Page 82 of Broken Destiny

Only after his headlights disappeared down the road did I finally close the door behind me, the weight of the evening settling heavily inside my chest.

Therapy?

The word followed me upstairs.

I wished I could go back and undo every decision that had led us here. Sometimes I even wished I had never met Randall Evans at all. If our paths had never crossed, I never would have worked for him, never would have met Caleb, and none of this would have happened.

The girls would never have been hurt.

But another truth pressed painfully against my chest almost immediately afterward.

I would never have had Emma.

I would never have met Cole.

My grip firmed around the banister, my body trembling as I walked slowly up the stairs, leaving me feeling torn between regret and gratitude, guilt and love.

I entered Lucas’s room first.

He was already asleep.

I leaned down and kissed his forehead, lingering for a moment as I brushed my fingers through his hair before quietly stepping back.

Then I walked into Emma’s room and tucked the blanket more securely around her tiny body before pressing a kiss to her forehead.

She shifted in her sleep, curling her fingers instinctively against her pillow.

As I stepped away from the bed, Geeta appeared in the doorway after returning from walking the dogs.

“Didi, you okay?” she asked softly.

I opened my mouth to answer, but no words came out, so I simply nodded.

Milo ambled quietly toward me, his nails clicking softly against the floor before he pressed himself against my leg. I crouched automatically, burying my fingers in his fur.

“I’m okay, boy,” I whispered, scratching behind his ears. “Come on. Let’s go to bed.”

Later, he curled himself beside me while I lay awake staring at the ceiling, exhaustion burning behind my eyes as the darkness slowly swallowed the room around me.

A couple of days later,Lucas asked, “When’s Caleb coming for dinner again?”

I turned around and looked at him. “Not anytime soon, honey. Why do you ask?”

“It’s been nice having him over,” he said. “It reminded me of the times we spent together before.”

This was exactly what I had been afraid of—him getting close to Caleb again, building hope in his young heart, only to be hurt when Caleb would not come around as often after the project was completed. Or maybe even sooner, once he was married.

“Baby, I don’t want you to have this hope that he’ll keep coming around,” I said gently.

“Why, Mama?” he asked innocently.

“Because he is getting married in a month and a half, remember?” I explained. “He will have his own family to look after.”

He nodded slowly.

“I’m sorry, honey,” I continued softly. “I don’t want you to expect too much.”

“I understand,” he replied quietly.