I want to talk to the police.

She sounds determined, her eyes looking at me intently, waiting for my reaction. There is not a trace of doubt in her expression or tone and the first thing that comes to my mind is what changed?

"Why?" My question is out before I have time to determine my tone. Therefore, surprise is laced in the word, and I can imagine my expression matches that surprise as well.

My hands are resting on her sides, my thumbs moving up and down as if she needs it to feel less tense. In reality, she is the one that seems calm and collected while I'm on full alert.

"I don't want to let him get away with what he did. The day he took me, he took my life, and only now I'm able to take it back. That control, any control I'm taking lately really, it's giving me confidence. And I..."

The next words die in her throat as her cheeks flush. The eye contact she held with me during her convincing explanation is gone too; she is now looking at the chains around my neck, the fingers of her right hand following the golden material.

"You..?" I encourage her, my hands now sliding up and down her sides instead of just my thumbs.

"I like feeling like that. Confident instead of scared. Stronger than I was before. I feel like that comes a little closer to who I was meant to be before he took me. If he hadn't taken me."

Her eyes still follow the path her fingers make, her cheeks red still too. Her voice is soft, like it always was the first few days she lived with me. And for the first time in few hours, or maybe even a day or two, she looks like that girl in the hospital again.

Unsure of everything and almost afraid to speak out loud.

I hate seeing her like this, especially because every time it happens to sneak in after we had a major breakthrough. Right now, I can only savior the fact that she is still in my lap, that she is still searching for that physical contact with me, and that she is allowing me to touch her.

"Of course, I know that it's silly to think that." She shakes her head and a heavy breath fans over me. "There is no what if. He took me, and he formed me. Maybe that's also a reason why I want to talk to the police. I want him to know that even though he will always have a hand on me, I will always resist."

I lift my hands to her cheeks and then move her head so her grey-blue hues find mine. Her cheeks feel hot too, and she seems surprised by my action.

"You can be however the fuck you want to be now. That hand he had on you, it's gone. He's lost that grip, Jo. And you should never be ashamed for liking your feelings. You deserve to feel fucking euphoric, every day for the rest of your life. And it's your damn right to haunt that feeling until it satisfies you."

Her eyes widen slightly, her eyes moving over my features for a moment. Her hands are on my shoulders now, her fingers gripping the fabric of my shirt.

"And if you want to tell your story to them," I continue, my voice soft while I lean my forehead against hers. "Then that's your choice. And yours alone. I'm fucking happy you want to, fucking proud you dare to."

A light, soft giggle tumbles from her lips. "I don't think I've ever heard you swear this much."

The left corner of my mouth pulls up too, my thumbs moving over her cheekbones. "Yeah, sorry. I tend to do that when I'm passionate about something." I shrug and give her a chaste kiss. "And I'm fucking passionate about you. I can't help it."

She laughs and then tightens her arms around my neck, puts her torso flush against mine, and hides her face in the crook of my neck. "I will talk to them."

I pull her against me even more by lacing my arms around her waist. I kiss her head, and then bow mine so I can smell her hair. She smells so fucking familiar. She smells like mine.

Until now, I never really appreciated hugs. Until her, I never felt the need to hold someone as close as I'm holding her now. It's insane; I'm literally crushing her against me, hoping to feel her even closer. It seems to be one of those things that is only good then you do it with someone you truly love.

I've hugged her before, but not like this. Not this desperate and strong. Not with our breaths in sync and this fucking close.

After minutes, I press my lips against her ear. "You know that they'll want to know everything, right?"

She nods, taking a deep breath before sitting up again. "I know."

I nod, moving some strands of hair behind her ear. She leans into my hand a little, her eyes fluttering for a second. And then, her blue eyes determinedly look at me again. "Do you remember what you promised me?"

"What?" I ask her even before I've properly thought about what I promised her. I want her to tell me.

"You promised that you'll never look at me differently, no matter what you hear about me."

"That promise still stands. Even more now than when I said it to you." I try to let her hear that I mean it. That I mean it with all that I have.

She takes a deep breath, one that closes her eyes and seems to rock through her whole from. And then her eyes open again. "I'm going to tell you what happened."

And just like that, she looks vulnerable as hell. She still sounds determined, but her demeanor shows anything but determinacy. Her words tell me she means it; she is informing me, not asking me if I want to know.

She is telling me she is going to tell me everything, and all I can do is nod my head while I tighten my grip on my waist.

I have no idea if I'm ready to hear this. I don't even know if I want to know what they did to her. But I do know that this is not about me. At all.

This is about her. Jo. The Jo that she needs to become. The strong mother that she wants to be for her daughter and the brave woman she needs to become to take back her control and put that bastard behind bars. And she wants to tell me.

"I'll listen."

"I know," she softly says. "Can I tell you tonight? In bed? I'm not sure how long it will take me, and I don't think Daisy will sleep long enough to tell you now."

I nod again, loving the way she chooses my bed to tell me just like all the other times she told me what she's been through. My bed seems to be her safe haven.

But Jesus, tonight sounds so damn far away, and I know that if I don't occupy my thoughts with anything else in the next couple of hours, I will only speculate about how horrible the details actually are.

We need distraction. Both of us.

I lean forward and capture her lips. Her soft, full lips that by now feel so familiar, her taste seems to have mingled with mine permanently. It's not just her taste and mine, it's ours.

And that all without using my tongue. It's intense and insane at the same time.

When I pull back, I place my forehead against hers again. "Want to go for a walk when Dais wakes? It's not that cold outside. We can go for a stroll in the park?"

Her face lights up which tells me she also needs the distraction, and her head bops up and down enthusiastically. "I'd like that. I'll feed her when she wakes and then we can go."

"Okay," I grin, her reaction infectious.

Even after everything she's been through, she still sees the beauty in the small things in life. It's remarkable. She is remarkable.

For a day in January, the weather is surprisingly soft. There is no cold, sharp breeze, and the sun even peaks through the clouds ever so often. It's still cold, but nothing a thick jacket and beanie can't fix.

Jo is walking next to me, carrying Daisy against her chest in the carrier that Maisie left for her. She is wearing her hair in a ponytail, and Daisy is wearing a old-yellow cap. Only her nose is poking out, and she is sleeping once again.

"Do you come here a lot?" Jo's cheeks are pink, as is the tip of her nose. Her hand brushed against mine a few times, and I've finally found the courage to grab it in mine.

Our fingers are laced, her cold palm is pressing against mine. And it feels fucking natural to walk around like this. I didn't miss how her cheeks heated up a little more when I took her hand, but now, after a few minutes have passed, she is at ease too.

It feels fucking right.

"Not as much as I used to," I admit. "I used to take Diesel, my dog, to the park near my mum's house every day. Since he passed, I haven't been walking in the park as much. I do meet friends here sometimes to play football and have a drink, but mostly in the summer."

"You play football too?" Her expression is surprised, and it makes me realize that I didn't even tell her about our amateur team.

"Yeah, I do actually." A smile overtakes my face as I think about it. The last time I played with the M-Boys, was the morning before I found her. It feels like a bloody lifetime ago. "We have an amateur team. Morgz is in there, as well as Felix. All of them are friends really. We usually play a game on Saturdays."

She smiles, no doubt because she sees and hears my excitement. "Sounds like you have a lot of fun doing that."

"I do," I agree immediately. "Whenever I don't have to work, I'll make sure to be there."

"When's the next game?" She then asks while she stops walking. Because she is holding my hand, she forces me to halt as well.

"Next Saturday, I reckon. It's still on a break now because of the holidays."

She nods and then continues to walk. "You should go if you're not working. Maybe Daisy and I can cheer you on?"

Her cheeks flush a little more once her words are out, and the idea of both of them aside the football field is warming my entire body to the core.

"Fuck yeah, you can." I smile broadly and pull her against me by her arm so Dais is pressed in between us. "You definitely can."

She giggles, her expression in between shock and surprise. "I feel like the real Hero really swears a lot."

I chuckle and lace my arms around her waist, her hands finding my chest. I know that I filtered my words immensely the first few days she lived with me. And I reckon that just slipped in unconsciously.

But evidently, she isn't the only one that feels more comfortable and at ease. She isn't the only one that changed and is more used to their new surroundings. I am too.

"I kinda do swear from time to time. I've been talking like that for ages. Does it bother you?" I scan her face and immediately spot how she shakes her head.

"It's funny. Although, you have to watch your mouth when Daisy is older. We don't want her first word to be... fuck." She whispers the last word after hesitating, and for more than one reason, it feels as if my jaws are about to break.

One; Jo that says fuck. I've never heard her say fuck. I fucking adore hearing her say fuck.

Two; the fact that she -so effortlessly- talks about when Dais is older, as if nothing will change. As if she'll still be here, with me, when Dais is old enough to say that famous first word.

Three; she thinks it's funny when I swear. Bless her.

"We don't want that," I agree while sliding my lips over Dais' cap-covered head. "Her first word will obviously be mummy, won't it, Dais?"

I don't miss how Jo's pupils dilate as she follows the movements of my lips against her daughter's head for a moment.

"And her second one," I mumble when she doesn't verbally react, partly because I want to break the silence and partly because I feel like the next words are hanging in between us. "Will be Hero."

Her eyebrows lift slightly, the corner of her mouth pulling up a little too. "Hero?"

I hum and then lift my face slightly so the tip of her cold nose is touching mine. "I mean, I bloody well hope so. She'll break my heart if it's another guy's name."

At this, a nervous, soft giggle falls from her lips, "What if it's not Hero, but something else that she'll call you?"

And although I think this is where I wanted to lead this conversation to, it shocks me that she's catching on to this so quickly. It must mean she has thought about this too. Christ, I hope she has thought about this too.

"Something else?" I don't dare to say more. I want her to lead this. I want to know where her head is in this. I need to know if she sees things -the future- like I do.

Jo nods, but her eyes slowly move down to Dais, who is not getting anything from our conversation. She's sleeping soundly, like the warm bundle of love she is.

"Like what then?" I press, my arms pulling them both against me a little more.

She takes a deep breath and then kisses Dais's head before she dares to make eye contact again. And she looks vulnerable all of the sudden, as if this talk has been bugging her for a while now.

And I feel my heart sink. What if she doesn't want to say what I'm thinking about?

"Jo, I-"

"The other day, when we were at that restaurant," she starts, her soft voice cutting me off. "That guy called her our daughter. And even though I think it took us both by surprise, I couldn't blame him for saying it. It's what he saw. He saw a father that was holding his hungry daughter."

I swallow the words I was going to tell her, and instead close my mouth and listen while my whole body seems to sense that this, the words she is going to tell me right now, will be even more life-changing than all the other shit that happened after she birthed that lovely, tiny human that's sound asleep.

"And it made me realize that, if we continue to live like this, Daisy will think it too. She will think you're her dad. And she will call you her dad unless we tell her you're someone else."

Suddenly her expression changes, and determination washes over her features. "And the more I watched you with her the following days, during New Year's Eve and at your mom's today, the more it made sense that what I want is for her to have you like that. I want her to have you as her dad. But of course, I know that's something huge for you to decide. You barely know us and asking something that big from you isn't fair. You might not even want to have that responsibility right now, and-"

I cut her off by moving my hands to her face and pulling her in for a kiss, my mouth crashing to hers as my heart tries to drum out of my chest.

But fuck, this feels liberating as hell.

My kiss takes her by surprise completely. The words die in her throat, and only after a few seconds she puts pressure on her lips too.

"You have no idea how good it is to hear you say this. How fucking proud and honored I feel at this moment." Our lips still have contact, and even though I'm not fully registering it yet, my breathy tone is full of emotion.

"I don't want you to think you're tied to me now too," she whispers back, her eyes closed and one hand moving to mine that's still on her cheek. "If you and I won't be together or you meet someone else, then that's okay."

I shake my head, even chuckling slightly as I think over how insane her words sound to me. "That won't happen, love. It will never happen. The moment I met you, was the moment you hooked me. I didn't know it back then, but there will never be someone that will make me feel like you do. Like you and Dais do. It's impossible."

She hums, although I can tell she doesn't believe me completely. And I understand. I understand that she has no idea of how deep my feelings for her go. Sometimes I even think I don't know half of it myself.

Because how can I be so consumed by someone in such a short time? How can I feel such a connection with someone I barely know?

"You don't have to believe me now," I say when we have been silent for a short minute. "We've got all the time in the world. And all that time will eventually tell you how devoted I am to you and your daughter. Eventually, I'll be even able to explain why and how. I promise. For now, let's just take that time, okay?"

She opens her eyes at the same time as that she takes a deep breath, and then she nods her head. Her nose slides against mine as she does so, and her warm breath fights the cold somewhat. "Okay."

I smile and shortly kiss her again. She's overwhelmed, even though she technically is the one that brought this subject up in the first place. I'm overwhelmed too.

But fucking hell, I can't bloody wait for Dais to say her second word.

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