Whispered Promises

Brie wasn’t willing to tell him and looked desperately at Sir.

Sir immediately took charge of the situation. “Dad, Brie has been through more than any of us can imagine. She needs sleep and time to recover. Let’s save questions for later.”

Although unsatisfied by Sir’s suggestion, her father eventually nodded to him, then turned to Brie. “You know I love you, little girl.”

She muttered quietly, “I know, Daddy.”

“Mama!”

Brie’s face lit up when she saw Hope toddling toward her with Shadow following behind. Leaning down, Brie held out her arms to her daughter.

Her heart burst with joy when she was able to sweep Hope up in her arms. Hope hugged her neck so tightly that Brie could barely breathe, but she didn’t mind.

Holding Hope had some kind of magical power over Brie. The uneasiness that had been tormenting her since leaving the compound instantly lifted. “I’ve missed you, sweet pea!”

Hope giggled as Brie kissed her all over.

Turning to her father, Brie asked, “Where’s Antony?”

“He’s upstairs napping. Would you like me to get him?”

“I’ll do it,” Sir insisted.

Brie closed her eyes, twisting where she stood as she held Hope close—purposely losing herself in her daughter’s love and innocent joy.

She was conscious of the fact that her father was standing beside her in uncomfortable silence. He was kind enough not to interrupt the precious moment between her and her child.

Squeezing Hope a little tighter, Brie finally opened her eyes and looked out the window to the shore. The waves were rolling in as they always had. She found it comforting that they remained unaffected by any outside influence—just like Sir’s love.

She thought back to the poem he’d left on her pillow the day she had returned from the hospital after giving birth to Hope.

To the mother of my child.

I love you, Brianna.

You are my life.

My love.

My hope.

Be confident in my love for you.

It is eternal and constant

Like the waves of the ocean.

~Thane Davis

The waves would always remind Brie of the strength of his love, and she was grateful they had the power to soothe her battered soul now.

Everything will be okay, she told herself.

“Here you go, sweetheart,” her mom announced sweetly, holding out a sandwich on a plate. “There’s nothing like a PB&J to make everything better.”

Brie chuckled. That had been her mother’s signature remedy whenever she had been hurt as a kid—whether it was from falling off her bike, getting sick, or having her young heart broken by a boy.

She understood the message behind her mom fixing the simple dish and was touched. Moving Hope to her hip, Brie took the plate and smiled hesitantly. “Thanks, Mom.”