“Hey, Al,” Matt says softly, placing a hand on my back.
“Yeah?”
“You look great.” He flashes a half-grin, then presses the button that opens the double doors to the waiting room.
I hear Megan before I see her. “Shut up, you did not!” she laughs, elbowing Jensen just as I spot her.
They both stand, and Megan practically runs to me, throwing her arms around my shoulders. I do the same, swallowing the lump rising in my throat. I’m too happy to see her to cry.
“Oh my God.” She squeezes tighter. “I’ve missed you so much.”
“I’ve missed you too.”
She pulls back, and my eyes shift—drawn to Jensen standing just behind her.
His gaze finds mine. Quiet. Patient. Loving.
Something tightens in my chest, hot and aching, impossible to ignore. I don’t think. I just move. One step toward him, then another.
“Hey, Al,” he says softly, arms parting—just enough to welcome me, but not too much. Like he’s giving me room to choose.
I don’t hesitate. I walk straight into him and collapse, my hands twisting in the front of his shirt. Every tear I’ve swallowed over the last forty-eight hours breaks free as I fall apart in hisarms. I melt into him, releasing everything while his arms wrap tightly around me—like he’s been waiting to catch me all along.
For weeks I’ve avoided him, but now, without saying a word, he’s given me exactly what I needed.
I feel his lips press to the top of my head as he whispers, “Hey, baby… I’ve got you.”
He feels safe.
He feelsgood.
He feels…
Like home.
Chapter Fourteen
JENSEN
I pull her in closer,resisting the urge to bury my face in her hair. Emotion surges through me, hard and fast, but I swallow it. This is all I’ve wanted for five months—hell, for a long time. To be here for Alley. Really be here. Clean. Sober. Her safe person again.
A sob wrenches out of her as she trembles in my arms.
“Hey, baby… I’ve got you.” The words tumble out. It’s what I’d say. It’s what I’ve always said.
I glance up, catching Megan’s and Matt’s eyes. I almost forgot they were there. Megan’s eyes are misty, and Matt just looks proud.
Alley slowly stills against me, and a part of me wishes this moment would never end. Because I don’t know what it means or if I’ll get another chance to comfort her. But God, I hope it’s not the last.
Her sobs quiet, her hands loosening their grip on my shirt. She presses her palms to my chest, and I ease my hold, letting her pull back.
She wipes at her cheeks. “Sorry,” she mumbles.
“Don’t be sorry,” I whisper back.
Her hands trail down to my abdomen, fingers lingering like she’s trying to remember me. Then she slides them to my sides and around my back, wrapping her arms around me. She presses her ear to my chest and exhales.
I take an even deeper breath, afraid to move—to ruin this. For months, I’ve put in the work. Every day. To grow. To be the best version of me I can be. And Ihavegrown. Iambetter. But no amount of push-ups, cycling, clean eating, or staying sober can fill this hole in my chest the way Alley just did.
