Chapter 13
A year passed.
Then another.
Life settled into a beautiful routine.
Noah was nine years old now.
Taller.
Stronger.
Confident.
He was doing well in school.
Had lots of friends.
Played soccer.
Loved science.
Still obsessed with dinosaurs.
He rarely talked about Diane anymore.
The memories were fading.
Replaced by new, happy ones.
Ryan had changed too.
He was no longer the scared, quiet man he'd been.
He was confident.
Outspoken.
A leader.
He'd started a support group for men who'd grown up in abusive households.
Men who were struggling to break the cycle.
He helped them find their courage.
Their voice.
Their strength.
He was making a difference.
I went back to school.
Got my degree in social work.
I wanted to help families like ours.
To be the support system we'd needed.
To help children find their voice.
To help parents find their courage.
Our marriage was strong.
Stronger than it had ever been.
We still went to therapy.
Once a month.
To check in.
To keep growing.
To never take each other for granted.
Robert was doing well too.
He'd found peace.
He volunteered at a local senior center.
Helping other people who'd been in abusive relationships.
He and Noah were inseparable.
Every Saturday was their day.
One Saturday, they came home from the museum.
Noah was carrying a drawing.
"Mommy! Look what I drew!" he said.
He held up the paper.
It was a drawing of our family.
Me.
Ryan.
Noah.
Robert.
Emily.
All smiling.
All holding hands.
And in the background.
A big, bright sun.
"It's beautiful," I said.
"I'm going to frame it."
Noah beamed.
That evening, we had a special dinner.
Robert was there.
Emily and her husband.
Our closest friends.
We were celebrating.
Noah had just received an award at school.
For bravery.
For helping a new student who was being bullied.
He'd stood up for the kid.
Told the bullies to stop.
Gotten a teacher.
The principal had given him the award.
Called him a hero.
"I'm so proud of you," Ryan said.
He raised his glass.
"To Noah. The bravest boy I know."
Everyone raised their glasses.
"To Noah!"
Noah blushed.
But he was smiling.
Later, after everyone had left, Ryan and I sat on the porch.
The stars were bright.
The air was warm.
"Can you believe it's been three years?" Ryan said.
I shook my head.
"Sometimes it feels like yesterday," I said.
"Sometimes it feels like a lifetime ago."
Ryan took my hand.
The promise ring on my finger caught the moonlight.
"We've come so far," he said.
"We have," I said.
"And we couldn't have done it without you. You were the strong one. When I was weak."
Ryan shook his head.
"No," he said.
"You were the strong one. You believed in us. Even when I didn't believe in myself. You gave me the courage to stand up. To be the man I am today."
I leaned my head on his shoulder.
"We did it together," I said.
Inside the house, we could hear Noah.
Talking to his dinosaurs.
Making them fight imaginary battles.
Making them win.
Always win.
"He's going to be okay, isn't he?" I asked.
Ryan kissed the top of my head.
"He's more than okay," he said.
"He's amazing. He's going to change the world. I just know it."
I smiled.
I believed him.
Noah had already changed our world.
For the better.
He'd given Ryan the courage to face his past.
He'd given me the strength to fight for our family.
He'd brought our family back together.
Stronger.
Better.
More loving than ever.
I looked up at the stars.
And for a moment, I thought about Diane.
Fifteen years in prison.
She'd be eighty when she got out.
I didn't hate her.
Hate was too heavy a burden to carry.
I felt sorry for her.
She'd spent her whole life in anger.
And now she'd spend her old age in prison.
Alone.
But I didn't feel guilty.
Justice had been served.
Noah was safe.
Our family was whole.
That was what mattered.
Ryan squeezed my hand.
"I love you," he said.
"I love you too," I said.
And we sat there.
Together.
Watching the stars.
Listening to our son laugh inside.
Grateful.
May you like
Happy.
At peace.
