She looked like me. We could be sisters with a similar height and similar features. The only difference was in her eyes. Not the color. No, that was the same. But it was also what reflected in her gaze. She looked jaded, like me. Seemingly hurt by life.
The same pain shimmered in her brother’s eyes. As I watched them studying us studying them, I suspected they were thinking the same. That our lives were interwoven in all its complex and dangerous beauty.
The Glassmans had sheltered them, too. The children were also victims of them, even after living in all that luxury. But they’d been tortured in their own way.
The fallout of those years had yet to unravel.
None of us would ever be the same.
I would tell them my story. They would tell me theirs. And afterward, we would make our own way in the world. Because that was what we’d always craved, the freedom to make our own choices.
Knowing Archie was safe meant breathing without fear was possible again.
I had survived. Fallen in love.
Found myself.
Found him.
And that was all that mattered.
6 years later . . .
Cassius
Bright rays of sunlight beamed in through the center of the maze. This secret space in the middle held sacred memories. No one knew how to get in here. No one other than Anya and myself. It had become our secluded sanctuary.
Life had settled tremendously since I was a teenager and hid here with my sister. This space had once haunted my dreams—now, all that had softened, and I saw it differently. A place that had sheltered me when I needed it.
The place Anya and I had made love for the first time—all that affection pushed out the ghosts of my past.
I’d never thought this possible before her, but now, there was one more person who was learning the path in here.
It might take her years to figure the maze out, but for now, my daughter wobbled around it with the same awe Anya had once had when she’d entered here.
That moment of me letting the bird go free all those years ago would represent so much to us. The memories meant so much. I’d wanted to come in here to replay it, somehow send a message back to the man who’d once stood here, me, and reassure him all would be well.
Recalling opening my palms and letting that small bird fly free . . .
I couldn’t help but smile as I wandered back through the maze, marveling at how well I knew its pathways, forwards and backwards, and its leafy corridors that led me out into the garden.
I paused for a beat to soak in the sun.
No longer searching for vengeance. My life absorbed with trying to make sure the girls in my life were happy.
Back then, when all those walls came crashing down. After Glassman had died in the swamp. After Victoria had left New Orleans. Even after her children had stayed. I had begun a new life.
Alone.
Content.
Anya and I weren’t married right away.
What I knew with a stark realization was that after the life she had endured, she needed to make her own choices. And because I loved her, I gave that to her. Although I fought against the urge to demand she live with me right away, I didn’t.
I gave her time.
Anya and Archie had rented a house near Tulane University. She’d always wanted to study English, and it was there, in this prestigious institute, that she did. She wanted to see what being independent was.
I threw myself into the business, though more recently I had found a CEO who could take our company to the next level so I could pursue studying music, reading more, and rebuilding the chapel. I wanted no part of it to be recognizable. I’d wanted more time with Anya.
For a year, we were a normal couple.
It took everything I had inside me not to become a caveman and demand she come home, but I bit back that impulse and instead, waited for her to come to me.
And she did, eventually.
It only took a year. The longest year of my life, if I’m going to be honest.
Once she finished a normal college freshman year experience, she made me teach her how to drive. Then, after she’d garnered full independence, she felt ready for her and Archie to move in with me full-time and she would commute to Tulane.
Under my roof, I coaxed her to marry me, and she said yes. I didn’t give her much choice.
“What are you smirking at over there?” I heard my wife say from across the clearing of grass.
I stepped farther out onto the stretch of green in the middle of the maze and headed toward them. Toward Anya, who was standing with our daughter, cheering with each step she took. “Hurry up, she’s about to launch!”
“Taking her first steps?” I hurried closer.
“Wait. She’s changed her mind. Don’t hold your breath.”
“She’s ready,” I said.
She laughed. “Don’t pressure her.”
“Like I pressured you? Pretended to give you a choice? But you were always going to be my wife.”
She laughed out loud while rolling her eyes. “I knew how hard it was for you to back down and not act all caveman on my ass. That’s why I love you so much.”
“I thought you loved me for all the wicked things I do to you. . .” I trailed off, teasing her.
Her cheeks became bright red.
After everything we’d been through, the fact Anya still blushed was probably one of my favorite things about her.
No matter how awful her life had once been, there is still a sweet and innocent quality about her.
“Stop looking at me like that,” she giggled, “I’m trying to get our daughter to walk.”
“Here, let me help.” I moved to sit opposite them, lowering to my knees, lifting my hands up to encourage her to come my way.
“Come to me, Grace. Come on.” She carried my mom’s name, and in so many ways, she was like her—the same beauty, same kindness, an easy grace to her.
When Anya had suggested it, she’d moved me to tears.
“Dada,” Grace cooed, and then on shaky feet . . . she toddled over to me.
Joy rushed in as we watched her brave steps forward. When she made it the few feet between us, Anya clapped her hands in joy as our daughter wrapped her arms around my neck.
Grace hugged me. “Dada.”
“I’ll never get used to that.” Squeezing my eyes shut, I breathed through this happiness coming too hard and too fast.
I planted a kiss on her cheek. “I’m so proud of you.”
I felt Anya behind me before I saw her. I could always sense her presence. Like we were inextricably connected and always had been. She was my way through the maze of life, too.
Anya and Grace were everything I needed.
All I wanted.
Together, they took all my broken pieces and sealed them back together, making me whole again. Making me content.
And the new version of me felt younger and carefree. Like the shadows of the past were no longer hovering. Lifted away, evaporated into a bright, new horizon.
Because of them, I became the man I should have been had my life not changed so abruptly. When all had seemed lost. All hope gone. She’d found me amidst my pain.
Because of them, I was given a second chance at life. I was given the family I had always needed and desired and I would never let anything or anyone ever harm them again.
They would always be safe with me.
I was finally complete.
With them, I had found happiness.