Semua Bab Scars She Carries, Love She Deserves: Bab 31 - Bab 40

Chapter Thirty-One — Little Hands, Big QuestionsLila had been quiet all morning.She sat at the kitchen table, a stack of blank printer paper in front of her and an open box of crayons beside her elbow. Her small fingers gripped a purple crayon so hard the wrapper peeled back in spirals. Each line she drew was heavy, as if she was pressing something deeper into the page—something she didn’t yet have words for.Elena watched her daughter out of the corner of her eye as she whisked pancake batter in a chipped mixing bowl. Jack leaned against the counter near the coffee maker, pretending to check emails on his phone but really stealing glances at both of them every few seconds.The silence between them wasn’t peaceful—it was taut. Fragile. The kind that made Elena’s stomach twist because she knew something was coming.She scraped the skillet with the spatula, flipped a pancake that came out a little lopsided. Lila didn’t comment. Usually she would giggle and say, “That one looks like a

Chapter Thirty-Three — The Last DoorThe courthouse smelled the same as it always had — stale coffee and old wood polish and the faint echo of too many whispered prayers for mercy.Elena sat on the cold bench outside the family courtroom, her lawyer beside her, a slim stack of meticulously organized files on her lap. Lila’s therapist’s report. Police call logs. The last judge’s notes from two years ago. And now — Lila’s own words, clear as sunlight.Jack was there too, of course. He stood just behind her, a quiet pillar she could lean back into without ever tipping over. She’d chosen a navy dress that made her feel both soft and sharp. Her hair was up. Her hands were steady. Her heart was a jackhammer behind her ribs.Inside the courtroom, Brandon waited with his attorney — a new one this time, cheaper than the last. He didn’t look at her at first. But when he did, he smirked. That old, infuriating half-grin that once convinced her she was powerless.Elena didn’t flinch.When the bail

Chapter Thirty-Five — Salt and StarsThe ocean gave them everything they needed that day: cold waves to shock laughter out of tight chests, sun-warmed towels to collapse onto, and a horizon wide enough to make old fears feel small by comparison. It was like the sea itself whispered, See? There is more room than you think.Lila claimed the sand like a queen building her first kingdom. She dragged Jack into the tide again and again until his jeans were soaked to the thighs, squealing each time he lifted her over a crashing wave, his deep laugh lost in the wind.Elena watched them at first from her spot near the dunes, toes buried in the fine, damp sand, fingers curled around her journal though she hadn’t opened it yet. Once, she would have needed a dozen photos to prove this was real. Now, she pressed it into memory instead—the weight of the sun on her shoulders, the scent of salt tangled in her hair, the sound of Jack’s voice carrying over Lila’s giggles.Once, she’d memorized the foot

Chapter Thirty-Seven — The Kitchen DanceThe scent of cinnamon and vanilla filled the apartment before the sun had fully risen. Jack had set the coffee to brew and dug through the cabinets for pancake mix before Elena even stirred. It wasn’t a special occasion. That was the point.Elena padded into the kitchen with her journal still in hand, rubbing the sleep from her eyes. She wore one of Jack’s t-shirts, soft and oversized, and her hair was a mess of curls that hadn’t yet seen a brush. Jack turned at the sound of her bare feet and smiled.“Morning, beautiful,” he said, flipping a pancake.“You’re really committing to the breakfast promise,” she murmured, stretching. “You even found the cinnamon.”“I take my kitchen dances seriously,” he said. “Coffee’s ready. Sit. I’ll pour.”She settled at the small table, watching him move around the kitchen like he’d always belonged there. It wasn’t just the comfort of routine—it was the safety in it. The warmth.Lila appeared minutes later, wild

Chapter Thirty-Nine — Turning PagesIt started with a quiet email.Just a few lines from a small indie publisher Elena had almost forgotten submitting to months earlier.We read your manuscript. We cried. We believe others will too.Her breath caught. She read the message twice, then a third time. By the fourth, her hands were shaking.Jack looked up from the kitchen sink, where he was rinsing off blueberries for Lila. "You okay?"She turned the screen toward him, speechless.He dried his hands, crossed the room, and read over her shoulder. Then he grinned so wide it made her tear up."Elena. This is it."She laughed through her tears. "I didn’t think anyone would want it."He took her face in his hands. "I wanted it. I always will. And now someone else does too. That’s not an accident."They told Lila together. She didn’t quite understand what a publisher was, but when Jack explained it as, "Mommy’s book is going to be in libraries and bookstores," her face lit up."Can I read it?"E