Five years later.
The house smelled like warm bread and strawberry jam.31Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡLvlReAujyW
Angelique, now 9, sat by the window with a book in her lap and paint on her cheeks.
Samantha stood in the garden, barefoot in the morning dew, watching Ryan build their tiny greenhouse—finally pursuing his quiet dream of growing something that never needed fixing.
"That tomato's crooked," she teased.
"Still growing though," Ryan replied with a grin.31Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡMDIOmvqMFX
"Like me."
Samantha smiled and leaned against the post, her fingers tracing the gold band on her ring finger.
Later that afternoon, a package arrived.
Inside was a fresh copy of her second book—this time not about pain, but about peace.
Angelique peeked over her shoulder. "Is it about Daddy again?"
Samantha paused.
"Yes," she whispered.31Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡL9dBkqT12j
"But it's also about you. About how we found light after everything tried to put it out."
Angelique smiled and hugged her from behind.
That evening, as the stars came out and laughter filled the kitchen, Samantha looked at them—her daughter, her husband, her home.
No fear.31Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡM0o4FGvdRu
No ache.31Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡWGFPpLgdEQ
Just love.
She didn't just survive her story.
She rewrite it.31Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡWGqaDWzabK
And this ending?31Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡu3vY7hzonf
Was hers.
🕊️ The real victory was her peace.31Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ31W0bttLak
And peace... looked just like this.
31Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡcT70FgIb2u
