I watch him sleep for a little while, overcome with relief after the day I’ve had. Things could have gone a lot differently. I press my lips together, choking back the emotional exhaustion as I watch him sleep in peace. I realize as I’m staring at him that I’m looking at him the same way Lily looks at Emerson, like she’s so full of pride.

I pull the blanket off the back of the couch and drape it over him, then I walk to the table where Josh’s homework is laid out. Everything is completed, even the family tree assignment.

He drew a tiny seedling sprouting from the ground with two small branches. One says Josh and one says Atlas.

Chapter Thirty-Four Lily

I almost missed the note, I was in such a rush this morning. It was shoved under my front door and was caught on the entry rug.

I had Emmy on my hip, a purse and a diaper bag on my shoulder, and coffee in my free hand. I managed to bend and pick up the note without spilling any of it. Supermom.

I had to wait until I got a quiet moment at work to open it. When I unfold the note and see Atlas’s handwriting, I feel a shiver of relief run through me. Not because I thought the note would be from anyone other than Atlas. We’ve been together several months now, and he leaves me notes all the time. But this is one of the first notes he’s left that a small part of me hasn’t dreaded opening, in the off chance the note was from Ryle.

I make a mental note of the significance of this moment.

I do that a lot. Mentally note significant things that are clues my life is finally getting back to normal. I don’t do it as often as I used to, but that’s a good thing. Ryle is such a small part of my life now, I sometimes forget how eternally complicated I used to believe it would be.

He’s still a part of Emmy’s life, but I’ve been demanding more structure from him. He sometimes tries to push back on how strict I am with her visits, but I’m never going to be comfortable until she can tell me in her own words what her visits with Ryle are like. I’m hoping anger management is helping, but only time will tell.

The contact Ryle and I do have is still sometimes terse, but all I’ve ever wanted out of our divorce was my freedom from fear, and I truly feel like I have that.

I’m hiding in my office storage closet, sitting cross-legged on the floor because I wanted to read this letter uninterrupted. It’s been months since I forced Atlas to hide out in here, but it still smells like him.

I unfold the note and trace the little open heart he drew at the top left-hand corner of the first page. I’m already smiling as I begin to read.