“Goodnight, buddy.”
He trots off to Harper, who gives me a broken smile as she takes his hand to get him ready for bed.
I have been in fires that were out of control. Seen car accidents that I knew the passengers stood no chance of surviving. Sometimes, you can’t fix a thing, and as a firefighter, you have to roll with that.
But right now, sitting here unable to change their situation, I have never felt more helpless.
HARPER
Iwalk Mason down the hall and tuck him into bed, moving through the routine with careful precision because I need the structure more than he does. Pajamas. Teeth brushed. I got some of his things out of storage, and his stuffed dinosaur is positioned exactly where it belongs. He chatters sleepily while I smooth the blanket over his chest. “Are you okay, Mommy?”
“Yes,” I tell him, and this time it’s mostly true. “I promise.”
He accepts that the way kids do when they want to believe something is solid. When his breathing evens out, I sit there for an extra minute, my hand resting on his back when he rolls over, grounding myself in the warmth and certainty of him. Whatever happens next, whatever choices I make, they have to be made with my tiny miracle in mind.
I close his door quietly and lean my forehead against the wall.
Aiden heard everything. The way David said ‘man’ when he clearly meant something far worse, but edited himself in front of Mason. The custody talk. The lawyers… there’s no way Aiden didn’t hear that. The hallway carries sound too easily.
I can’t believe Aiden brought me ice cream after the initial confrontation. Can’t believe he didn’t complain about sittingthrough one of my true crime shows, didn’t roll his eyes or make a joke, just showed up quietly and did the thing that would make it hurt less.
He is exactly the person I thought he was six years ago. A good man, no matter how hard he’s tried to convince himself otherwise.
I find him on the balcony when I finally step back into the living room. The glass door is cracked open, city air slipping inside, cool against my skin. Aiden stands with his hands braced on the railing, his back to me, giving me space the way he always does when he thinks I might need it.
That, too, feels like proof.
I grab a blanket from the couch and wrap it around myself before stepping outside. The Columbus skyline stretches out in front of us, lights scattered like constellations, steady and distant. We don’t speak at first. We just stand there, side by side, breathing in the night, letting the silence do its work.
Finally, I break it.
“I’m sorry about David. He had no right to say those things.”
Aiden doesn’t turn right away. When he does, his expression is raw in a way I’ve only ever seen a handful of times. “Was he right? Was I the guy you couldn’t get over?”
I could lie. I could tell him David was jealous and insecure and grasping at whatever narrative made him feel powerful. I could tell Aiden that none of it mattered, that my marriage failed for reasons that had nothing to do with him. And because Aiden is a good man, he would believe me. Or he’d pretend to believe me to let me save face.
But I’m done lying. To him. To myself. To the truth that presses against my ribs, demanding release.
I stare out at the skyline for a moment longer, giving myself a breath to decide whether I’m brave enough to say this out loud. I’ve been careful for so long. Careful with my words, my choices,my heart. Careful in ways that felt like survival at the time and look suspiciously like fear in hindsight.
But he’s a good man, and I deserve that. Mason does, too.
“Yes.”
Aiden’s breath catches, sharp and quiet, but he doesn’t interrupt me. He doesn’t rush me. He waits, and that alone makes my heart ache.
I swallow hard, the memory bitter and familiar. “I told myself it was practical to marry him. That it was the grown-up thing to do. That wanting you was reckless and that marrying David was the right choice.”
Aiden’s jaw tightens, but his eyes stay locked on mine.
“I didn’t forget you,” I continue. “Couldn’t. Not when I said my vows. Not when I got pregnant. Not when I built my bar from the ground up. I learned how to function without you, but that’s not the same thing as moving on.”
The night air feels colder suddenly.
“I kept thinking something was wrong with me,” I admit. “That if I tried harder, loved better, showed up more, the feeling would disappear. Who falls in love in a single night? It’s ridiculous. Childish. But the feeling lingered…”
Aiden turns then, fully facing me, the intensity in his eyes unmistakable. He looks like a man bracing himself against a truth he’s been circling for years. “Calling it a mistake was the biggest lie I’ve ever told.”
