The Long Healing
Months passed.
The rhythm of their days became steady, gentle, full of ordinary beauty.
Sundays at the park. Pancake breakfasts. Pillow forts in the living room. Laughter echoing down the hallways where tension used to live.
But healing isn’t linear. Some nights, Sophie still woke crying. Other days, she’d freeze when someone raised their voice. Ethan learned to sit with her through it—to listen, to hold her, to let her heal at her own pace.
One evening, he found her watching over baby Noah’s crib. “Do you still think about her?” he asked softly.
Sophie nodded. “Sometimes. But I don’t hate her, Daddy. I just don’t want her to hurt anyone else.”
Ethan’s heart twisted. “You’re the bravest person I know,” he whispered. “And I promise—I’ll never let anything like that happen again.”
