“You should take her and get her checked out.” I glanced up to see Blake nodding.
“I got you.” His arms wrapped around me, and he started walking me out of the house.
We were halfway down the hall when I turned. “Wait.” It was the first word I’d uttered since it all happened. I took a few steps toward his body. Warren was on his back against the hallway wall. His head was slumped to the side. Blood was pooled under him, his eyes were clouded over, but still held malice. How could a human be so evil? What could have happened to him that made him this way?
“I hate him.” They were quiet at first, but then the anger came. Donna always said that one day I would find my voice. She didn’t know when, but she said it was in there. “I hate you!” I screamed. The tears poured from my eyes. “Why did you hate me? What did I ever do to deserve your wrath? What?” My breathing became labored as I let the anger pour out. “I won. You hear me? I won, not you!” I turned to Blake. “I won.” I buried my face in his chest and cried. I’d won. I escaped. I was going to be happy. I survived. I was a survivor, and now my daughter would be too.
Epilogue
1 Year Later…
Blake
Work has been exhausting the last few nights. I’ve been on the night shift, and Brooke has been working days. We rarely see much of each other even though she moved in with me. We greet each other with a passing hug or kiss as we leave my apartment for our respective jobs, and occasionally she’ll meet me during my break for a coffee. I’m counting the days, two more to be exact, before I’m back on days.
It’s Christmas Eve, and I managed to work a double so when I go home tonight, I have tomorrow off. That is the one thing that’s hard about working in the hospital— you don’t get holidays off. We trade off each year so the same doctors don’t work the same holidays, unless they want to, and this year I was able to get Christmas off.
“Night, Donna.” I waved as I tossed my lab coat and stethoscope into my locker.
“Tell Brooke we said Merry Christmas.” She smiled as if she knew my secret.
“Will do.” I yawned. I was exhausted, and with the present I had planned, I knew I wouldn’t be going to bed anytime soon.
I bundled up, and made my way out to my car. After brushing the snow off, I hopped in and made the drive home. The sun was just beginning to peek over the horizon, and cast a pink and orange glow over the city. The snow glistened and quiet houses would soon be filled with the squeals of laughter as children realized Santa had come.
I pulled into my spot in the garage, and jogged up the steps to the penthouse. All was quiet as I tiptoed inside. I tossed my coat on the chair, made my way into the kitchen, and began brewing a pot of coffee. If she stayed on her usual schedule, Ava would be waking up in the next half hour.
As the smell of coffee filled the air, I shuffled down the hallway. I glanced into my room to see Brooke snuggled beneath the covers. The down comforter was pulled all the way up to her chin, and her brown hair was fanned out over the pillow. It still took my breath away every time I saw her.
I carefully pulled the door to a crack as to not wake her as I turned to head toward my office, now nursery for Ava. When I pushed the door open, Ava scrambled to stand. Her chubby arms reached for the sky as her mouth spread into a giant grin. “Dada!” she cooed as she clapped her hands at me.
“Hey, pretty girl.” I moved over to her crib and lifted her out. She was almost fifteen-months-old now and had started walking right around Thanksgiving. “Were you being good and letting Mommy sleep?” I carried her over to the changing table and changed her diaper. I never saw myself as a dad, but ever since I met these two, I’ve felt like I was meant to be here. This little girl has changed so much for me.
Ava kicked her feet as I worked to get a clean diaper on her. “Dada dada dada.” She grinned as her arms flailed around. Every time I hear it, it nearly brings me to my knees. At first I felt guilty. She isn’t my daughter by blood. I would never want to take a man’s place no matter how awful he is. I was discussing this at work one day, and Donna overheard me. She said that I was chosen to be Ava’s dad and I needed to stop feeling guilty, and embrace it. It was my purpose. Donna always knows the right thing to say. She’s like a mom to everyone despite the fact that we’re almost the same age.
“Let’s go out into the living room until Mommy wakes up.” I carry Ava down the hall and sit her on the carpet by the couch. After securing a baby gate at the entrance to the hallway, I make my way back into the kitchen to grab a mug of coffee. I can hear Ava babbling in the living room, and the sounds of a few of her toys as she plays quietly. Ava’s always been a good baby. Since she was born, she has never really cried and entertains herself really well.
I sat down with my coffee and attempted to read the morning
