My Fire Captain Husband Locked Me In To Attend Her Birthday Chapter 12

My Fire Captain Husband Locked Me In To Attend Her Birthday Chapter 12

I moved out of that house before winter hit.

New furniture. Nothing left from before.

Lenore came over to help and looked around, hands on her hips. “Finally. This place actually

looks like someone lives here.”

I slid the last box of books onto the shelf and straightened up. “Drinks are in the kitchen. Help

yourself.”

She tossed her jacket on the couch and scrolled through her phone, then stopped. “Got

something for you.

“What?”

“The state fire academy turned Dominic’s case into an internal cautionary training module.” She turned her screen toward me. “First thing they play for new recruits, those two 911 tapes.”

I looked at the screenshot. The last line jumped out: [Every call for help must be answered. No family dispute, no personal grudge, overrides that duty.]

Lenore grinned. “Nothing like a public flogging to kick off a fire academy lecture.”

I said, “Yeah.”

She set her phone down. “Oh, and after Dominic got hauled in, Lydia showed up at the station raising absolute hell. Ended up getting booked herself for shoving a deputy. They kept her a few days. And word is, his dad put the old family place on the market just to cover the legal bills and

restitution.”

I unscrewed a water bottle and didn’t answer.

Lenore watched me. “You really let it go?”

I walked to the window and pulled the curtains all the way open.

Sunlight flooded the floor.

“Yeah.”

She stood up, tapped her water bottle against mine. “Then congratulations. Fresh start.”

I tapped back. “For me.”

After that, I went back to work.

For years I’d built my life around Dominic. Around that house. Around trying to get pregnant.

Now I built it around myself.

Clients. Drafting. Proposals. Site visits. Review meetings. Workouts. Regular meals. Real sleep.

Day by day, my life came back into my own hands.

Three months later, I went to the courthouse to sign the final enforcement paperwork.

At the end of the corridor, a clerk stopped me. “Ms. Ashford, there’s someone here to see you. Will you speak with him?”

I looked up. “Who?”

“Dominic Vance.”

I stood there for two breaths. Then I nodded.

Through the glass, I saw him.

Months had hollowed him out. Eyes sunken. Skin gray. He looked like a ghost of someone who

used to exist.

He lifted his gaze to mine. His voice came out rough. “Willa.”

I didn’t move.

He flattened his palm against the glass. His voice shook. “I dream about that night. Every single night. I see you in the fire, screaming for me. I see you jump. I hear the doctor say the baby’s gone. I know I don’t deserve your forgiveness. But I’m so sorry.”

I looked at him, and my voice came out perfectly even. “If regret fixed anything, what would we

need the law for?”

He flinched like I’d hit him.

A long pause. Then he forced the words out. “If the baby had made it, do you think I would’ve felt them kick by now?”

I stared at him. A cold, sad smile touched my lips.

“Dominic. You finally remembered you were supposed to be a father.” I paused. “Too bad your child knew the truth before you ever did. Before they died, they already knew you were never father

material.”

He stood there, frozen, like something vital had been ripped out of him.

I turned and walked away. Behind me, I heard the low, broken sound of him crying.

I didn’t look back.

Not this time.

Not ever.