“You okay?”
The question settled in my chest like a stone. Was I okay? In what universe would that word ever apply again?
“In what context?” I tried to keep my voice steady. The weariness behind it gave me away.
His expression darkened, a flicker of pain there that nearly cracked me open.
“If anything happens,” he said, voice cautious but firm, “something like last night…do you promise you’ll come to me?”
My breath hitched. He meant the panic attack. Not the cameras. Not the threat of my father hanging over my head. But that moment, curled in his arms, spiraling into the dark with no way out.
I wasn’t close to that now, but I wasn’t steady, either. It was like looking at my reflection on water—I knew what was real, but it wavered. One big splash could shatter me.
“I’ll be all right,” I said.
His grip on my chin tightened a fraction. “But you’ll tell me when you’re struggling? Please?”
My skin heated at the way he looked at me. There was desperation in him, but there was something else too. Something wanting. Something fragile. Like I could bring him to his knees with a word.
I didn’t know whether I could keep that promise, but I nodded anyway.
Some tension in his body eased, his shoulders dropping slightly.
“Okay,” he murmured. Then he let me go and faced the door. “You ready?”
I wasn’t.
“Yes,” I said.
He stepped forward, pulled the front door open, and held it for me.
Just like that, I was back in the house I’d once called home, and the house I’d vowed never to come back to.
Ispentacoupleofdays getting settled in at the bed-and-breakfast. If rejection was what I expected when I came to stay, it wasn’t anything I experienced.
Raleigh and Warner were beyond kind and hospitable.
They were downright loving.
Raleigh made every meal from scratch and served it at the kitchen table. Eating had become something I looked forward to daily. It felt so normal. So critical to sit and eat a meal with people who honestly seemed to care.
Not being alone was one of the things keeping me together. Fox worked long hours trying to find my father, and I was with him most days at Hearthstone Security. The office had plenty of room for me to work on the documentary. My editor back in the city had been requesting more footage, and collaborated with me on changes to the script to accommodate the Shadow Stalker interview.
Before I knew it, Sunday night family dinner had rolled around.
The kitchen smelled like warm bread, garlic, and a dash of basil. My stomach twisted, both from hunger and nerves. The home was absolutely bustling, almost bursting at the seams with the Ramsey clan.
Though I’d been at the house for a couple of days, I hadn’t seen everyone yet—not like this.
Reid had grown into a whole man since I’d last seen him. I barely recognized him at first, his very pregnant wife tucked under his arm as she sipped a mug of hot tea. He and Lark stood in the corner of the kitchen, speaking softly between themselves as a very bubbly girl with dark-brown curls bounced around, doing her best to help Graham set the table.
Emersyn and August were sitting with Warner, Fox’s dad, and Roman. They seemed to be in some kind of discussion about a certain portion of the wraparound porch that needed mending.
I felt awkward as hell, standing as close to the entryway as possible, out of the way of everyone and everything. It had been so long since I’d seen most of these people. I was afraid to mess this up.
Fox wasn’t anywhere to be seen yet. He had checked in with me earlier in the day, but I hadn’t seen him since. I didn’t want to admit how much I needed him by my side at this moment.
“You sure you don’t need any help, Ma?” Roman tried, yet again, to help his mom, who was fluttering between pots and pans.
