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Peyton got three years.
Less than Maya. But enough.
That last glance of her in court was empty and hopeless.
I just turned away from her gaze.
Lily held my hand tightly. She’d grown taller. And the scars had become fainter under her skirt.
“Daddy, can we go now?”
I nodded. The weight lifted at last.
Emma drove us. She asked nothing, just handed me tissues.
I realized I was crying.
Not from sadness. But from relief.
Outside, unfamiliar scenery flew by. We were headed to a seaside town.
No one knew us there. No pointing fingers.
Lily pressed against the window, excited.
“Daddy, look! So many flowers!”
Emma glanced via the mirror. “There’s a flower market there. Didn’t you want to open a shop?”
I paused.
Yeah, I’d mentioned that once. During those sleepless night, I talked about fresh starts for comfort.
She remembered it all.
Our new home was a cottage by the sea. Sunflowers filled the yard.
Lily ran to the garden, studying them closely.
“Aunt Emma, will these always face the sun?”
“Yes. They always turn toward the light.”
Suddenly, I felt like crying tears of warmth and joy.
That night, helping Lily unpack, she asked, “Daddy, will Mom come find us?”
I’d wondered that endlessly.
“She won’t,” I said softly but firmly.
Lily nodded. “Good. I don’t want to see her.”
Her words hurt.
Once, she’d longed for Peyton, thrilled by her smile.
Now, nothing left.
I couldn’t sleep. So I stood on the balcony watching the ocean. Emma brought milk to me.
“What’s on your mind?”
“I’m wondering... if it was worth it — all those years wasted on revenge.”
Emma leaned on the railing. “Was it?”
I thought long. “Yes. Having Lily back is enough.”
Then she said nothing, just stayed with me.
The sea breeze was cool. I felt free for the first time.
Next day, Lily started at her new school. She’d nervously tried on outfits since morning.
“Daddy, will the kids think I’m weird?”
“Why?”
She pointed at her legs. “Because of these.”
I knelt, looking seriously at her. “Lily, this wasn’t your fault. Those who matter won’t care.”
She nodded, but still worried.
Emma drove us to school.
On the way, she told Lily, “If anyone bullies you, tell me, okay?”
Lily giggled. “Aunt Emma, are you scary?”
“Only to bad people,” she said seriously, making Lily laugh.
Watching them, I felt warm. This was family.
A month later, my flower shop opened.
Lily helped after school. She was talented at arrangements.
Customers praised her skill.
“Daddy, life feels better now,” she said, arranging baby’s breath.
I ruffled her hair. “Yeah. Much better.”
One night, Emma seemed nervous. She fidgeted, hesitating.
“What’s wrong?” I asked.
“Oliver, I…” She took a breath. “I was thinking… if you’re willing…”
My heart raced. I knew what she meant.
“I’m not ready yet,” I interrupted. “Give me time.”
She nodded. “I’ll wait.”
Suddenly, I wanted to cry.
Finally, there was someone who respected me and would wait for me.
In bed, I thought of Peyton, wondering if she regretted it in prison, and if she ever thought of Lily.
But it didn’t matter anymore.
We were growing toward the light.
