I stood, my legs steadier than they’d been in weeks. “Thanks, Jack.”
“Same time next week?”
“Yeah.” I paused at the door. “And Jackson? I’ll answer your texts this time.”
His laugh followed me out into the cold December afternoon. As I climbed into my truck, my phone buzzed with a text from Dad about starting the porch repairs when I was back in an hour.
It needed to be done, and we’d fix them.
But maybe Jackson was right. Maybe it was time to stopfixingthings and startfacingthem.
Chapter Thirty-Three
ELENA
Now, December 2024
I let myself hope.
Again.
I needed to.
And he seemedbetter. So much better.
Still, hope was a dangerous thing.
It wasn’t just me and my heart I was looking out for now. I had a daughter to think of, to protect.
The sound of car doors shutting outside didn’t make me jump like they did just days ago, almost like having Chase back in Sable Point brought me enough peace to begin settling my nerves. Two voices I easily recognized became increasingly clearer as they approached the house.
I stretched as life slowly seeped back into my sleep-stiffened muscles. Night shifts were wreaking havoc on mysystem. The blade of bright afternoon light slicing across my pillow through a thin crack in my blackout curtains indicated that it was probably time to get up anyways, and these visitors weren’t unwelcome.
After hefting myself over the edge of the bed as gracefully as I could these days, I slipped on my plush robe, the soft cotton warming my skin in the chilly air of the old house. My bare feet found the smooth, cold hardwood floors, each board creaking a different note as I padded toward the back door. When I rubbed my hands across my belly, my little girl responded with a flutter of movement, like butterfly wings beneath my palm. The gentle thump of her echoing stretch brought a smile to my face.
“Time to start our day, baby girl.” The words floated through the still morning air of the empty house, barely more than a murmur. “And it sounds like Daddy’s here.”
I caught my lower lip between my teeth, heart skipping at the word I’d just spoken so naturally.Daddy.The truth of it settled deep in my bones, even though I’d never dared voice it before. But now, with Chase back in Sable Point, back home where he belonged? The certainty blazed through me like wildfire.
It wasn’t about biology—it never had been. Chase might not have been here for every flutter or kick, but he’d shown me more kindness, more love, more gentleness in a handful of months together than Peter ever had—orcould. Chase was the kind of man who would protect and cherish a child, even one who wasn’t his by blood. My fingers traced idle patterns over my belly, the baby shifting beneath my palm as if in agreement.DNA be damned—this little girl already had a father in every way that mattered.
But was he ready for this? To be a dad?
This was where the danger came in. If I pushed him too hard, too fast, he could relapse. Then where would we be? On our own again.
Or maybe having something—someone—to fight for would be enough to keep him clean. I wasn’t enough to be that someone for him before, but maybe our daughter could be.
I pulled back the sheer curtain panel covering the window of the back door and peeked out. Chase and his dad were standing a few feet from the porch with their brows furrowed, fingers pointing this way and that, discussing the issue at hand—my deteriorating porch steps.
Chase had fixed a few little things here and there since he’d been home, and I appreciated it more than he likely knew. Maybe I wouldn’t need that handyman after all.
I used the panel next to the door to disarm the security system before gripping the knob and twisting, opening the back door to the cold December air.
“Morning, Evertons.”
“Mornin’, kiddo,” Jay greeted.
Chase swept his gaze over me, head to toe and back again, a gentle smile on his lips—lips I’d love to kiss again. My skin blazed at the thought, at the way he was looking at me.
