Page 94 of Colt
And the most terrifying.
Because part of me kept waiting for the other shoe to drop. For something to rip this away from me the way it had been ripped away before. I’d wake up reaching for her and find empty space, and it would take a second too long to remember she wasn’t gone.
With Death’s Head gone, the weight I’d been carrying for seven years had lifted. I could breathe again. Could focus on what mattered—my wife and sons.
But the fear lingered, whispering in quiet moments.What if this doesn’t last? What if you lose them again?
We fell into a rhythm anyway. I’d come by Betty’s every morning for breakfast, help the boys get ready for school, drive them myself when my schedule allowed. Afternoons were for homework and riding lessons and the thousand small moments that made up a life. Evenings were for dinner together, all of us around Betty’s table, laughing and talking and being a family.
And slowly—so slowly I almost didn’t notice—the fear started to fade.
Thatside of things was well and truly back on track. Every time we had a moment alone—boys at school, Betty running errands—we ended up tangled together somewhere in the house. Lilac kept one ear on the door, always half-listening for small footsteps.They’re going to catch us, she’d whisper, and I’d say,so lock the door, and then she’d stop worrying.
Fuck, I loved her.
?
The idea had been forming for a while. Weeks, maybe. But the night it finally came out, I’d been sitting on the couch with Lilac tucked against my side, boys long asleep down the hall, and I’d looked around at the cramped living room—Betty’s reading chair, the boys’ drawings stuck to the fridge, Lilac’s library book face-down on the side table—and thoughtwe’re already a family. We’re just not living like one.
I had a house on club land. Built it years ago, had this idea in the back of my head that I’d want it someday. Been sitting empty ever since because I’d never felt the need for more than my room at the compound. I’d never had a reason.
Now I had three.
“Move in with me,” I said.
She tilted her head to look at me. “Okay.”
Just like that. No hesitation, no conditions. I hadn’t even finished the thought.
“You didn’t let me make the case. I was prepared to convince you,” I said.
“You don’t need to.” She sat up straighter, turning to face me properly. “Colt. I spent seven years not knowing what I’d lost. I’m not going to spend another week pretending with you isn’texactly where we should be.” She said it like it was simple, like it had already been decided. “The boys get to live with their dad. You get to be there every day. I get—” she hesitated. “I get to stop missing you every time you go home.”
I felt it land.
“What about Betty?”
“She comes too, obviously.” She raised an eyebrow. “You were going to ask, weren’t you?”
“I was going to ask.”
“Good.” She settled back against me. “Tell her tomorrow. She’ll pretend she needs time to think about it and then immediately start packing.”
I laughed, low and quiet so as not to wake the boys. She was right. She was completely right.
“There’s one more thing,” she said, after a moment. Her voice had shifted—still calm, but careful.
“What?”
“Glitch said something, a while back. About the divorce papers.” She paused. “That my signature was forged. That technically we’re still married. That he could make all the legal mess disappear, or—” she stopped. “He said it was up to us.”
I’d known that. Glitch had told me the same thing, separately, and I’d been sitting on it—not wanting to push, not wanting to make her feel like I was angling for something she wasn’t ready for.
“What do you want?” I asked.
She was quiet for long enough that I didn’t try to fill it. Lilac thought in full sentences; she’d say it when she had it.
“I want to marry you,” she said. “Again. Properly. With the boys there, and Betty, and your brothers.” She looked up at me. “I know it’s—I still don’t have the memories back. I might never. But I don’t need them. I know who you are now. I know who we are now. That’s enough.”
