Chapter 10 - The Rainbow After the Storm
One year later.
The summer sun streamed through the wide windows of a beautiful stone house overlooking the valleys of Boulder, Colorado. The scent of blooming lavender and fresh mountain pine filled the air.
I sat on a wooden bench on the back porch, watching my father push one-year-old Maya on a small wooden swing set in the yard. Her bright, musical laughter echoed through the valley, sweet and clear.
I had used the settlement funds from the liquidation of Michael’s former assets to build a sanctuary—a private estate where my father, my daughter, and I could live without fear.
Footsteps echoed on the wooden porch behind me.
Dominic walked out, carrying two glasses of iced tea. He wore a simple white shirt, his dark hair cut short, the scar on his jaw smoothed by the warm summer light.
Over the past year, he hadn't left our lives. What started as a security contract had transformed into something deep, steady, and quiet. He was there for Maya’s first steps. He was there when I bought the land for the house. He was the quiet foundation that held us together as we rebuilt our lives from the ashes.
"Dad is going to spoil her rotten," Dominic said with a soft laugh, handing me a glass and taking a seat beside me on the bench.
"He's earned the right," I smiled, leaning back against the cushion. "We all have."
Dominic looked out at the yard, watching Maya wave her tiny hands at a butterfly fluttering past her swing.
"I received a letter from the state department today," Dominic mentioned quietly. "Michael tried to appeal his sentence again based on claims of police misconduct."
My heart didn't even skip a beat. The name Michael no longer had the power to make me tremble.
"And?" I asked smoothly.
"Denied without hearing," Dominic replied. "He'll be seventy-two when he first sees a parole board."
I took a sip of my tea, feeling the warm sun against my face. "Good."
Dominic turned to look at me. He set his glass down on the side table and reached out, his warm, rough hand covering mine on the bench.
"Emily," he said, his voice dropping into that deep, sincere tone I had come to love. "My contract with your father ended six months ago."
I looked into his grey eyes. "I know."
"I stayed because..." He paused, searching for the right words—a man of action, unaccustomed to speechmaking. "I stayed because I can't imagine being anywhere else."
My heart fluttered—not with fear, but with a sweet, radiant warmth.
"You don't need a contract to stay, Dominic," I whispered, turning my hand over to intertwine my fingers with his. "You're family now. You have been since the moment you lifted me off that ledge."
Dominic leaned in, his cheek resting against mine for a long, quiet moment, before his lips gently brushed against mine in a kiss that felt like homecoming—soft, fierce, and full of promise.
May you like
Down in the yard, Maya let out a loud squeal of delight as my father pushed the swing higher into the afternoon sky.
The snow had melted. The storm was over. And in the warm sunlight of a new life, we were finally home.
