Chapter 10 - The Sun Always Rises
Later that evening, after our guests had departed and the sky had turned a deep, velvet purple over the mountains, the three of us walked out onto the back deck.
The summer air was cool and crisp, carrying the scent of pine needles and fresh earth. A gentle breeze rustled the leaves of the aspen trees surrounding our property.
Noah leaned against the wooden railing, looking out at the glittering lights of Boulder down in the valley. Daniel stood beside him, placing a warm, heavy hand on his son’s shoulder. I stepped up on Noah’s other side, wrapping my arm around his waist.
“Dad?” Noah asked, looking up into the clear, star-filled night sky.
“Yeah, Noah?”
“Remember when you told me that some storms last a long time, but they always end?”
Daniel smiled down at him. “I remember.”
“You were right,” Noah said softly, leaning into his father’s side. “It doesn’t feel cold anymore.”
Daniel looked across at me over Noah’s head. The silent understanding between us was absolute. We had faced the darkest, coldest night of our lives, and we had refused to let it consume us. We had fought for our son, we had demanded justice, and in doing so, we had liberated ourselves from a legacy of cruelty and conditional love.
I reached out and squeezed Noah’s hand—the same hand that had once been wrapped in gauze and pale from freezing wind. It was warm, strong, and steady.
May you like
“It’s never going to be cold again, baby,” I whispered.
Above us, the stars burned bright and clear across the Colorado sky, illuminating a future built on truth, unwavering protection, and an everlasting, unshakeable love.
