Chapter 242: Chapter Two Hundred and Thirty-Nine - Done Good

Willow sat in the back of the cab for a moment after closing the door, hands folded loosely in her lap as the city slid past the window. The driver pulled away from the curb smoothly, merging into traffic without comment, and she let herself breathe for the first time since leaving the building.

Her reflection hovered faintly in the glass, composed and calm, still carrying the warmth of what had just unfolded. She adjusted the strap of her bag on her shoulder, grounding herself in the present and allowing the tension she had carried for hours to finally loosen. For the first time in days, she did not feel rushed or suspended.

She reached for her phone.

Lorrylne answered before the second ring finished.

"Well," Lorrylne said, her voice already carrying expectation, "judging by the timing, I’m guessing it worked."

Willow smiled, the sound of it soft and genuine. "It worked."

There was a pause on the other end, not for drama but for relief settling into place.

"I knew it would," Lorrylne said. "Zane doesn’t need convincing. He needs clarity on where he stands with you."

Willow leaned her head back against the seat. "I hope I gave him that today. How is Zana."

"She’s sticky, loud, and very pleased with herself," Lorrylne replied. "We’re at the park. Ice cream was involved, mostly on her hands and my sleeve. She doesn’t know what it is, but she likes the cold. We tried the swing and she seems to like the movement."

Willow smiled to herself. "That sounds perfect."

"She keeps turning her head," Lorrylne added gently. "Every time she hears footsteps or a man’s voice nearby. She settles for a second, then looks again."

Willow’s chest tightened. "She’s expecting him."

"She doesn’t know how to name it," Lorrylne said. "But she feels it."

Willow hesitated before asking, "Could I come over."

"Of course," Lorrylne replied without pause. "We’ll be home soon."

Willow inhaled, steadying herself. "I was thinking. Would you like to have dinner with me tonight, before we take her home."

The silence that followed was thoughtful rather than uncertain.

"That sounds lovely," Lorrylne said at last. "I think we’d all like that."

The call ended easily.

Willow watched the city pass as the cab carried her forward. She no longer felt as though she were catching up to her life. Instead, she felt as though she was arriving where she belonged.

When she reached her home, she paid the driver and stepped into the evening air. Inside, she changed into something comfortable but intentional, not a statement and not armor, simply herself. She moved through the kitchen calmly, choosing food that felt welcoming rather than impressive, something meant to gather people instead of staging them. As she cooked, the rhythm steadied her, and the scent of the food filled the space, grounding her further.

Once everything was ready, she packed it carefully into insulated containers, stacking them with the kind of quiet attention she gave to everything that mattered. Dinner was on her tonight, and she wanted it to feel like care instead of performance.

She grabbed her keys, lifted the bags with both hands, and headed to her car.

The drive to Lorrylne’s was smooth and familiar, the streets washed in early evening light. She parked, gathered the food again, and walked up to the door with a steadiness she had not felt in a long time.

Lorrylne opened it almost immediately. Zana was nestled securely against her shoulder, bundled and alert. The baby’s eyes tracked the change in light and widened when Willow came into view. There was no smile and no reaching cry, only a sudden stillness and focus. Zana’s body shifted, and a soft sound left her throat, as if something inside her had aligned.

Willow knelt instinctively, keeping her movements slow. She held out her hand, letting Zana see it before touching her fingers gently to the baby’s arm.

"Hi," Willow whispered.

Zana responded by curling her fingers around Willow’s index finger with surprising strength, anchoring herself there.

Lorrylne smiled. "She was waiting for her mama."

Willow swallowed as her throat tightened. "I missed her."

"I know," Lorrylne said softly, stepping aside to let Willow enter. "Come in. Put the food in the kitchen and then come back to her."

Willow did as she was told, grateful for the guidance, grateful for the normalcy of being directed by someone who loved them both. When she returned, Lorrylne adjusted Zana slightly so Willow could be closer without overwhelming her. Zana’s gaze stayed fixed, wide and serious, as if memorizing Willow again.

Zane arrived a few minutes later.

The door opened and he stepped inside, jacket still on, his eyes immediately finding the small figure in Lorrylne’s arms. He crossed the room without speaking, his presence registering before he reached them.

Zana sensed him. Her head turned, her body stirring as a low sound escaped her throat and her gaze locked onto his face. Zane reached out and took her carefully, settling her against his chest as if this were the most natural thing in the world. His shoulders eased the moment she was in his arms, as if the day finally released its last tension.

Willow watched from the kitchen doorway as something deep and quiet settled in her chest.

Dinner unfolded simply.

Zana rested nearby, content, occasionally fussing and soothed by familiar voices and steady movement. Lorrylne moved easily between kitchen and table. Zane helped without being asked. Willow accepted help without hesitation. The three of them spoke about small things: the park, the mess, the way Zana had discovered her own hands and found them endlessly fascinating.

"She stared at them for ten minutes," Lorrylne said. "Like they had personally betrayed her."

Zane smiled. "She does that with reflections too."

"She’s observant," Willow said, watching Zana’s tiny fingers curl and uncurl as if she were testing the world for solidity.

"She’s yours," Lorrylne replied gently, looking between them. "Both of you."

The words landed without weight because they fit.

As dinner wound down, Zana grew drowsy. Zane lifted her smoothly and paced the room until her breathing deepened, her head resting beneath his chin. Willow felt something soften in her chest as she watched him, and she recognized the quiet truth in his movements. This was not effort for him. This was instinct.

After a while, Willow stood. "We should get her home."

Zane nodded. "I’ll get the car seat."

At the door, Lorrylne hugged Willow, holding her just long enough to communicate more than words could.

"You did well," she said quietly.

"Thank you," Willow replied, meaning it.