I reached out, resting my hand on his thigh. “I know, but I don’t think you understand just how deep her words run. It wasn’t just about how I looked on the outside—it was about how I acted, how I carried myself. Nothing I did was ever good enough for my mother. I could get straight A’s in college, but it didn’t matter because Jacob was going to take over the farm. I was never meant to lead or shine—I was destined to be a doll in a glass house.” I shook my head. “But I wasn’t a doll, Austin. I was stronger. I wanted more. For so long, I didn’t know how to do anything but what I’d been taught—what I’d been conditioned to be. When things got hard, I didn’t deal with them; I ran. My mother never taught me how to face life when it wasn’t perfect.”
“Hence the bucket list,” he said softly.
Our eyes met for a fleeting moment before I dropped my gaze back to the floor.
“Hence the bucket list,” I repeated. “I created it after I moved, to force myself to do things that scared me. To teach myself how to handle the hard stuff. Then you came into my life, and everything changed. And when Scarlette came into thepicture, I was terrified. Instead of doing what I’d been working so hard to improve on, I fell back on what I knew—I ran away.”
“It’s okay,” he said softly, his voice laced with sadness.
“It’s not okay.” Despite my best effort, my voice trembled. “You don’t deserve a partner who runs away when life gets hard. You deserve someone who loves you endlessly, who stands by you no matter what. I can’t imagine how it must’ve felt for you—your mom and Ledger leaving, your birth dad never being around, and then me. You must’ve felt so alone, and that’s on me. That’s my fault.”
I looked up, my lips twisting as I fought to keep it together. The tears were dangerously close, and I was seconds away from completely breaking down. I was desperate to get through this, to say what needed to be said before I fell apart entirely.
“I don’t want to run away anymore.” The words tumbled out as my chest tightened. “I want to come home and hear about Scarlette. I want to be the one you call when you’re overwhelmed or when something amazing happens. I don’t want to run. I want to stand by your side, and I’m so sorry—for mistrusting you, for doubting Nova. I let my insecurities get in the way of what really matters.”
Austin shook his head. “No. If your ex suddenly showed up with a baby you never knew about, I’d have reacted the same way. It’s human, Charlie.”
I nodded slowly, swallowing hard. “Then I’m sorry for running. That part is on me.”
He didn’t say anything, but he reached out, gently wrapping his fingers around mine, where it still rested on his thigh. His touch was steady, grounding, as he laced our fingers together and gave them a light squeeze. It wasn’t forgiveness spoken aloud, but it was enough to let me breathe again.
“Charlie,” he said softly.
I looked up and met his gaze.
Tears fell down his cheeks, and my heart ached at the sight.
“I spent years of my life being resentful of my mother, of my birth father, of Ledger, of hockey, even of Nova. I was sick. I hated my life. Every single day, I’d come home from work, and the silence in the house was so loud I’d need to drown it out.” He huffed out a breath and inhaled deeply. “Then I spent years avoiding being that person. When I was told my medicine wasn’t going to be prescribed, I was scared that if I didn’t have it, I would fall right back to the old me. It helps me, I can’t deny that, but what I missed was that I had so much more internal strength and happiness than I realized. Yet somehow my hyper-independence kicked in.”
“No. I agreed to us whether it was a sham or not because I wanted to have a friendship with you too. We both agreed to have or establish that friendship first.”
“Yeah, but I never wanted to be your friend, Charlie.”
“W-What?” I asked, confused.
“I never wanted to be your friend. I wanted you to be my wife. The whole time. I wanted to marry you because I was... am madly in love with you.”
I shook my head. “You didn’t even know me.”
“No, you’re wrong. You never judged me for the mess I was. You didn’t hold my past against me. You let me be myself, let me heal. You always put me first, even when you didn’t have to. I know you think you’ll never be my first, but that’s not what matters. Sure, I was married before. Yes, I have a child now. But you, Charlie, you’ll be my last. You’re the one I’ll fight for every single day. If it takes me begging on my knees to show you how much you belong in my life, I’ll do it. I’ll do it until you see what I already know.”
He closed his eyes, his voice raw, and something inside me cracked open.
I shifted, moving so I was facing him, my knees pressing into the bed. I cupped his cheeks, his stubble rough against my palms. His vulnerability, his honesty, was as devastating as it was beautiful. I couldn’t look away.
“Life after addiction is quiet. The kind of quiet that feels unbearable at first. You lose the chaos, the constant noise of needing something to survive. But then you’re left with everything you tried to avoid. All the mistakes, all the hurt. And it’s hard. God, it’s hard. But it’s worth it because, in that quiet, you start to rebuild. You find pieces of yourself you thought were gone forever. You start to feel whole again.”
He hesitated, sliding his hand over mine, his thumb brushing lightly against my skin. “But these last few days... that quiet wasn’t peaceful. It was empty. It was so loud, like a scream I couldn’t escape. I’ve worked so hard to rebuild, but without you, nothing felt steady. Nothing made sense.”
He dropped his gaze briefly before meeting mine again. “Loving you is like finding light after the storm has passed. Everything is still broken and messy, but that light makes it all worth it. You make it worth it. You’re the reason I believe in more—more love, more life, more than I ever thought I deserved. You’re the kind of love that makes life feel like poetry, Charlie. And I’d spend forever proving that to you, if you let me.”
His words hit me like waves, filling all the spaces I didn’t even know were empty. My chest tightened, tears brimming, and all I could do was hold onto him, afraid I’d fall apart if I let go.
“Let me love you, Charlie. Be my wife.”
I laughed. “I am your wife, silly.”
He shook his head, his eyes locked on mine. “No. Myrealwife, Charlie. Marry me all over again. Choose me. Start this life with me for real. Walk with me, through everything.”
