For two months straight, I’d worked on me.
I got healthy, changed my life, and finally started bonding with my son the way it was always supposed to be.
The medication I was on helped so immensely that I finally saw through a set of eyes that weren’t plagued by dark thoughts, recriminations, and dread.
No longer did I cry when Holt cried.
No longer did I feel like jumping off the nearest bridge every time I thought about having to take care of him for the rest of my life.
No longer did I refuse to eat because eating sounded awful, and took too much energy, and what was even the point of eating when I didn’t want to be on this planet anyway?
I’d gained back some of the weight that I’d lost since Holt’s birth. I hadn’t realized that I had lost quite so much.
All because of Copper’s cooking.
Every night when we got home from his office, he would start dinner, and I would start Holt’s nighttime routine.
Copper had put the routine in place originally, and I held steady, making sure that Holt never deviated from it.
He was fed and promptly in bed by seven in the evening, just in time for Copper to put the food on the table once I’d rocked Holt to sleep.
I finally felt good in my skin to the point where I was dressing like I used to dress—cutoff shorts, tank top, and flip-flops.
I did my hair every day.
I wore makeup.
I got enough sleep, because the man I was living with was truly that great of a guy that he would do the night shift if he sensed I needed a break—something I hadn’t needed as of late because Holt was not only sleeping through the night, but he was sleeping well into the morning.
I was even considering talking to my family again—something that I thought I’d never do again because of how dark everything felt in the aftermath.
I was…happy.
I was also very aware of the man that had given my life back to me.
Today was no different.
We were at Copper’s club’s clubhouse—the Truth Tellers MC really knew how to make a fantastic hangout—and I was admiring the walls of the barndominium.
They were made of wood.
Seriously, from the outside this place looked like a random metal building in the middle of nowhere, but when you came inside, it looked like a lodge in the middle of Montana.
Only, when you looked out the windows of the “lodge” you saw rows and rows of motorcycles with tall pine trees in the background, and not mountains.
“This place is so nice,” I said to no one in particular.
I’d been to the clubhouse multiple times and met almost everyone there was to meet over the months that we’d been doing this.
But for the first time, nearly all of them were in attendance.
It was Webber who grinned. “You can thank Det—Audric. Audric got out of the Army and started his plumbing business. Though, that turned into the designing of bathrooms along with the plumbing, and in turn turned into full out new-home construction. He specializes in barndominiums now.”
Audric had once gone by the name Detroit in the club. Apparently, his late wife had been the one to give him the name, and he hadn’t been able to be called that since her passing.
“It’s gorgeous.” I said, my eyes moving to another gorgeous thing in the room—Copper.
“What’s that look for?”
