That's What You Get

Chapter Thirty-One: What Comes To Light

Mikey stood in the kitchen of his new place, a worn dish towel slung over his shoulder as he leaned against the counter, letting the hum of the kettle fill the space. The windows were open, finally, and sunlight spilled in like it belonged there. Like he did.

It wasn't big, and it wasn't perfect, but it was his.

Three months had passed since Pete's sentencing. Testifying had nearly unraveled him, but he had done it. He'd looked Pete in the eye, told the truth, and walked away with his spine intact. There were still nights where he startled awake, breathing hard and gripping the sheets as if they could hold him together. But there were also mornings where he made coffee for no one but himself. Mornings where quiet didn't mean fear.

Dani visited often. She brought the baby, a little girl named Aria Grace, and Mikey had immediately fallen in love with the soft weight of her against his chest. She had Dani's mouth and a pair of wide, curious eyes that seemed to take in the whole world without blinking.

Things between Dani and Patrick had looked good. From the outside, at least. They were planning a small adoption ceremony for Luca and Lincoln, settling into family life. Dani had taken a few months off after Aria was born, and when she went back to work, she left Mikey with a carefully written schedule, two backup diaper bags, and the kind of trust he hadn't felt he deserved until recently.

But it happened on a Tuesday.

Mikey was folding laundry when his phone lit up with Dani's name. When he answered, all he heard was breathing, shallow, trembling, then a muffled voice in the background.

"Dani?"

A pause. Then: "Can we come over?"

She showed up fifteen minutes later, Lincoln on one hip, Aria strapped to her chest in a soft gray sling, and Luca trailing silently behind her. There was a cut on her lip, a swelling bruise forming along the edge of her jaw. She didn't cry. Just handed Mikey the baby like it was routine and said, "I need to lie down for a bit."

He didn't ask questions. He put cartoons on for the boys and held Aria until her breathing matched his.

It wasn't until the next day that Dani told him.

"He lost it," she said quietly. "Over something stupid. I don't even remember. One second it was just noise, and the next... I couldn't shield the boys fast enough."

Mikey clenched his jaw, his hand tightening on the mug he was holding.

"He saw Luca watching," she whispered. "I think that's the only reason he stopped."

She stayed for four days.

When she finally went back to work, her uniform was pressed and her hair neatly braided, but her shoulders didn't sit quite right. Long sleeved blues in the May heat, it didn't add up. Skye noticed.

The detective cornered her after roll call, voice low. "You're moving slow. That a new bruise under your collar?"

Dani had tried to wave it off, but Skye didn't let it go. She waited, and when Dani finally slipped....

Just a word, just a crack.

"He didn't mean to do it," She had said.

Skye filed a report.

Patrick was arrested later that evening.

Mikey didn't say, "I told you so."

He just made up the spare bed again and held Aria while Dani gave her statement.

Her mind was quieter after Patrick's arrest. Not peaceful, just heavy.

She moved slower, like she was holding tension in her bones. She kept looking over her shoulder, checking the locks twice. Her badge sat on the kitchen table next to her gun, untouched. Aria cried more often, like she was feeding off her mother's unrest.

Luca barely spoke.

He followed Mikey around the house like a shadow, never in the way, just there. Watching. Listening. He flinched every time a door closed too hard.

Lincoln seemed mostly okay, but he asked where Patrick was three times in one day, and each time, Dani had to excuse herself to cry in the bathroom.

Mikey held the line for all of them. Quiet, steady, present. He cooked. He made sure the boys stayed on schedule. He walked the floor with Aria when she wouldn't sleep. He kept a nightlight on in the hall and slept on the couch with the bedroom doors cracked, just in case one of them might need him.

He didn't ask Dani if she was okay. He didn't need to.

She wasn't.

"Court date's been set," she said one evening, rubbing her temple as she stared at her phone. "They'll offer him a plea, but I know him. He'll deny it. He'll say I provoked him. That I'm emotional. Postpartum. Whatever works."

She laughed, bitter and small. "I'm a cop. I knew better."

"You did what you had to do," Mikey said quietly.

"No," she muttered. "I did what I was thought I had to "do. That's not the same thing."

There was no victory in Patrick's arrest. Just grief. For the life Dani thought she had. For the father she thought he could be. For the pieces of her kids she couldn't protect fast enough.

Skye came by with groceries the next day, under the guise of just checking in.

"She can stay with me," Skye told Mikey in the kitchen. "You've done enough."

But Mikey shook his head. "She's not ready to move again. And the boys feel safe here."

Skye studied him, then nodded. "Alright. But if he posts bail, I'll call you."

Mikey didn't say that he'd already made sure the locks were changed and the cameras were up. Or that he'd quietly signed up for a concealed carry class. Just in case.

Dani slept in the guest room now with Aria in a bassinet beside her. The boys shared Mikey's bed most nights. He took the couch without complaint, wrapping himself in a familiar quiet that didn't feel like hiding anymore.

One night, after the kids were down and Dani had finally stopped pretending to clean, she sat next to Mikey and let her head fall against his shoulder.

"He's never getting near them again," she whispered.

Mikey turned slightly, resting his cheek on her hair. "No. He's not."

The silence held between them, finally not fragile, but strong. Like the weight of everything they'd survived was finally shifting into something that didn't have to be carried alone.