She was laying on my chest with her tiny little face turned toward the camera. And what looked like Creed’s tattooed hand holding her securely in place. Both our eyes were closed as if we were just sleeping. Peaceful as one. She looked exactly how Noah described her for me. My finger unconsciously started to trace her little button nose and tiny fingers that were lying on my chest next to her face.
She was so precious, so delicate, so beautiful. My heart ached from how full of love it was for this baby girl. Meeting her for the first time through this picture. Wanting to touch her, feel her, love her unconditionally, but I couldn’t because she was gone. All I had left were the memories of being pregnant, feeling her inside of me, and now... this photo.
Portraying a mother and daughter content in each other's arms.
“I’m so sorry, Maddie. I love and miss you so much,” I wept, mourning the loss of my baby girl and all that could have been. Staring at my precious daughter, smiling through my despair.
And then, out of nowhere, I suddenly felt him in the room like I had at prom.
“Pippin?”
With every last emotion, feeling, sentiment, memory pouring out of me, I peered up and looked him in the eyes. Knowing he already knew the truth because he had always felt me, too.
Our connection was alive and thriving all around us as if my memory was never gone to begin with. Right along with our love and the all the years of turmoil and passion, of lost times and heartache.
Of all the roads that led us to nowhere which finally would end here.
He visibly took a deep breath, murmuring, “How long Mia?” Gazing deep into my eyes, looking at his girl.
The one he never gave up hope would come back to him.
Me.
A war was raging in his eyes, but for the first time since I woke up, it wasn’t for me because he knew I was already there.
With him.
His internal battle took place right in front of me like he wanted to hold me in his arms and never let me go. Except things were different now.
I was different.
And so was he.
We weren’t the same people we had been before, and I think that was what scared him more than anything. Maybe realizing that just because I was his.
Didn’t mean I still might not also be Noah’s.
The serious expression on his face captivated me in the same way it always had. Which only added to the plaguing emotions that were placed in between us.
“How long have you had your memory back?” he elaborated, yearning to know how long it had been since I remembered him and our love.
“Two months, give or take.”
He jerked back like I had hit him, and in a way, I probably had.
“It didn’t come back all at once,” I added, hoping it would calm him.
“How?”
I shook my head, not wanting him to know. It would hurt him too much.
“How?” he repeated in a stern tone I was more than familiar with. Fighting a battle I knew I wouldn’t win.
“Creed, please... it doesn’t—”
“Ain’t gonna ask you again, Mia.”
“Noah carried me onto his bike,” I simply stated, not wanting to go into more detail.
He grimaced, didn’t even try to hide it. Proving my intuition right. I knew him just as much as he knew me. That was just the way we were and always had been.
“It was the first time I had been on it, I could never do it. Why do you think that is?”
“Cuz on my bike, I made you mine. Claimin’ you for the first time.”
“I—”
“Did he fuck you on it, too?”
It was my turn to jerk back, even though I expected him to ask me that. It was why I didn’t want to tell him, but it still hurt to hear.
“I just wanna know what made ya remember me. Was it the fact that you were on another man’s bike when you only belong on the back of mine... or the fact that he made you come again when it shoulda been me? Simple question, Mia.”
“Yes and yes. That what you want to hear, Creed? Make you feel better that you know now?” I paused, letting my questions sink in. “But it was his words that really put things into perspective for me.”
“And what were those?”
“That he claimed me and that I was his.”
“Are you, Pippin? Are you really his now? That what you came to tell me? Stab that knife a little deeper in my fuckin’ heart, watch me bleed out for you? Again.”
“I don't know why I'm here, okay? One minute I’m walking on the beach, the next I’m walking into this house... our house.”
“Is that right? Took you two goddamn months to find your way home? Did I not mean anythin’ to you?”
“That's not fair...”
“Life ain’t fuckin’ fair. Trust me, I would fuckin’ know.” He turned, breaking our connection. Running his hands through his hair in a frustrated gesture, pacing the room.
I honestly didn’t know what to expect out of this, but that didn’t stop me from having to come here. Needing to tell him. Even if it hurt both of us.
Instead, I held up the photo of Maddie and me, needing my own answers. “And this?”
He glanced over, shifting his eyes from me to the photo. Contemplating what to say, “She was still alive when I laid her on your chest, Pippin. Needed ya to know just cuz you were knocked out, don’t mean you weren’t there.”
My lips trembled, taking in his words. Recalling all the times I told him I couldn’t wait to be the first person to hold her. Place her on my chest and tell her how much I loved her. How much I wanted her, waiting impatiently for this moment. The one where she was finally here, in my arms. With me.
“Thank you. Thank you so much for taking this. If it wasn’t for this picture, I wouldn’t ever know what she looked like,” I wept, looking at it once again.
I heard him walking toward me, stopping when we were about a foot apart. He crouched down in front of me, grabbing the stack of envelopes on my lap. “You found my letters.”
I nodded, locking eyes with him again.
“I was gonna give them to you the first night we slept in our bed. Here, in our new home. The place I made perfect for you. For us. I wanted all of this to be a surprise,” he shared, opening his arms, gesturing around the room. “Every time I came back from the safe house... I’d spend a few hours here wit’ Ma. She helped me buy everythin’, put it together. Waitin’ for furniture to be delivered when I couldn’t be here. You were always wit’ me, Mia. No matter where I went, where I’ve gone, what I’ve seen and what I’ve done... you have never not been wit’ me. You’ve always been my home.”
“I know,” I murmured loud enough for him to hear.
“What happens now?”
“I honestly don’t know. I came here because I couldn’t ignore it any longer. Never expecting any of this, though.”
“Then what, huh? You leave? Go back to him? That how this works?”
“How long have you lived here, Creed? Has it been this entire time?” I questioned, needing to know.
He shook his head no. “After...” His face fell, taking a deep breath. Holding his head in between his hands. “I couldn’t after what happened. It was all set—