Page 403 of All the Ways I'd Live for You
It still doesn’t feel real sometimes. That I have a daughter. A family. A future that doesn’t end in blood.
I dump the finished popcorn into the biggest bowl we have and shake the movie theater butter seasoning Brooke likes over the top.
“Travis said he and Naomi will be here in twenty minutes,” Brooke says while setting Mila gently into her bouncer next to the couch. She tucks a soft blanket around her and places a teether in her hand.
Mila grabs it immediately and starts gnawing on it with complete focus.
I follow her to the TV room. “What’s on the movie agenda?”
“Movies,” Brooke says with a little smirk. “We’re doing a Scream marathon.”
I shake my head and set the bowl on the coffee table. “Very on brand.”
Luna is already perched on the back of the couch like she owns the place, her tail wrapped neatly around her paws as she watches Krueger with mild judgment.
Krueger lies stretched out in front of the fireplace, his massive body blocking half the rug. His head lifts the moment Mila makes a noise, eyes tracking her every movement with the quiet intensity of a dog who has fully accepted his role as her personal security detail.
Brooke grabs two sodas from the kitchen while I dim the lights in the living room. When she comes back, we settle onto the couch the same way we do every Friday night.
She leans back into me, resting her head against my chest, and stretches one hand toward the bouncer to gently touch Mila’s tiny foot.
Our daughter wiggles in response, letting out a small burst of babbling while kicking her legs against the blanket.
I wrap my arms around Brooke and pull her closer, holding her against me while the steady rhythm of her breathing gradually settles into sync with mine.
Five years later and I’m still hopelessly in love with the girl I once stalked across a diner.
I was never the hero of this story. I knew that early. I knew it the first time I chose violence because it felt easier than mercy, the first time I realized I could live with blood on my hands and still sleep at night. I’m what people call a monster. A villain. A killer. A man shaped by damage and consequence. The monster in me never disappears. But now he has a home.
And her name is Brooke.
Brooke never tries to change me. She sees the same darkness in herself and doesn’t look away. She doesn’t ask me to be better. She asks me to be honest. Somewhere between the bodies and the grief and the choices we couldn’t undo, we learn how to carry that darkness without letting it hollow us out. We didn't become good people. We became each other’s reason to start living.
I choose her and she chooses me.
I press a kiss to the top of her head and lower my voice so only she can hear it.
“I love you to death.”
She tilts her head back to look at me, a smile pulling at the corner of her mouth.
“I love you too, even beyond that.”
Mila shifts in her bouncer and lets out a soft sound that draws Brooke’s attention immediately. Brooke leans down and picks her up, and I help settle her between us on the couch.
Mila rests her head against Brooke while one tiny hand grabs the front of my shirt.
The three of us sit tangled together in the kind of peace I never believed I’d earn.
Not until her.
Not until us.
And now?
Now I live for her.
THE END
