Victoria nods, her jaw tight. “I won’t ever forgive myself for that either,” she says quietly. “But I want to try to change. I want to be better. For her. I want to be the mother she deserves, even if it’s years too late.”
I feel some of the tension in my shoulders ease. This is what I’ve wanted for years. Not for myself—I’ve made my peace with what happened between Victoria and me—but for Chloe. Forher to have a mother who actually shows up, who prioritizes her, who makes her feel like she matters.
“That would be good,” I say. “She still needs her mom. She always has.”
Victoria looks at me for a long moment, and something in her expression shifts, becomes more contemplative. “You look different than you did a few years ago,” she says. “Happy. Settled. Content in a way you never were when we were together. Even before everything fell apart.”
“I’m in a good place,” I admit. “Better than I’ve been in a long time.”
“It shows.” She reaches across the bar and touches my arm, her hand warm against my sleeve. The touch is brief, almost tentative. “I’m glad you found Emma. That you have someone who appreciates you the way you deserve. Someone who sees what I was too blind to see.”
The touch is apologetic, but there’s something else underneath it too. Something wistful. Nostalgic. Like she’s mourning a version of us that never existed, a future we might have had if everything had been different. If she had been different. If I had been different. If we’d been able to grow together instead of apart.
I don’t pull away, but I don’t lean into it either. I just let her hand rest there for a moment while I process everything she’s said. “I appreciate you being honest about all this,” I tell her. “The regrets, wanting to change. But words are easy, Vic. What matters for Chloe is actually following through. Being consistent. Not making promises you can’t keep and then breaking her heart all over again.”
“I know,” she says, nodding. “That’s exactly why moving back is such a serious consideration. I can’t do this halfway anymore. Either I commit to being Chloe’s mom for real, being present and reliable and actually there for her, or I need to step back completely. The in-between isn’t fair to her. It never was.”
We sit there for a moment in the quiet restaurant. I want tobelieve her. I want to hope that she’s capable of becoming the mother Chloe deserves. But I’ve been disappointed too many times to trust it completely.
All I can do is wait and see if her actions match her words.
Victoria’s looking at me with something in her expression I can’t quite name. She squeezes my arm gently, and something in her eyes looks almost hopeful. Like maybe she believes she can actually do this. Like maybe she’s finally ready to be the mother she should have been all along.
“Thank you for listening,” she says softly. “For not just shutting me down. For giving me a chance to explain.”
“I want what’s best for Chloe,” I tell her. “If you’re serious about this, about being more present, then I’m not going to stand in the way of that. But I mean it, Victoria. Don’t make promises to her that you can’t keep. She’s been hurt enough.”
“I am serious,” she says. “More serious than I’ve been about anything in a long time. I’m going to prove it to you. To her.”
The moment hangs between us, loaded with history and regret and possibility. Victoria’s hand is still on my arm. The restaurant is silent around us, holding its breath.
And all I can think about is Emma. About getting home to her. About telling her everything and letting her help me figure out how to navigate this new development. About building the future I actually want instead of dwelling on the past that almost broke me.
CHAPTER 24
Emma
The drive to Harbor & Ash isn’t long, just ten minutes through the dark streets of Dark River, but it gives me time to run through my plan one more time to make sure I haven’t forgotten anything.
A thermos of mulled wine made from that Solstice House bottle Theo loves sits in the cupholder. My ice skates from college are in the passenger seat, white leather slightly scuffed from years of use but the blades still sharp because I take care of things I love. A change of clothes in my overnight bag for after skating—soft leggings, a cozy sweater—and underneath that, the black lace lingerie set I bought last week. A surprise for later, once we get back to his place. Then a pair of thick wool socks tucked into my coat pocket for Theo because rental skates are always cold and uncomfortable, and I want him to be comfortable tonight.
Everything accounted for. Everything ready for the romantic surprise I’ve been planning for three days.
The whole thing started at the grocery store. I was wandering through the aisles when I spotted this huge vintagehockey poster displayed near the registers and ran into Calvin. We got to talking about the poster, and he mentioned that Theo had been obsessed with hockey as a teenager, and had wanted to be a professional player for years. According to Calvin he had the skills for it too, but ended up staying close to home.
That conversation sent me down a rabbit hole of research when I got home. I searched for ice skating rinks in the area, not expecting to find much since Dark River isn’t exactly a winter sports destination.
But twenty minutes outside of town, tucked into the hills near the county line, there’s this little outdoor rink that stays open until midnight during winter. They string up lights everywhere and create a whole retro magical winter wonderland experience. The photos online looked incredible, exactly the kind of place I’d want to discover with someone I love.
So that’s the plan. A surprise visit to the restaurant at the end of his shift, then a drive out to the rink for a night of skating under the stars. Something spontaneous and romantic and perfectly us.
I’ve been letting Victoria’s mean-girl energy at pickup get under my skin lately, letting my own insecurities spiral into something bigger than they needed to be. That’s not who I am. I’m confident. I’m secure. I don’t let other women make me feel small or question my worth. I grew up with four sisters and survived the competitive jungle of an elite east coast university. I can handle one ex-wife with boundary issues.
Tonight is about reclaiming that confidence. I pull into the Harbor & Ash parking lot, finding a spot near the entrance. The lot is mostly empty now, just a few cars belonging to the closing crew, the dinner rush long since ended. I turn off the engine and sit for a moment, checking my reflection in the rearview mirror, smoothing down a flyaway strand of hair. I look pretty damn good if I do say so myself.
I grab my skates and the thermos and climb out of the car, locking it behind me with a chirp of the remote. The night air iscold and crisp, carrying the faint salt smell of the Sound, and I can see my breath fogging in front of me as I walk toward the restaurant entrance. Above me, stars are scattered across the clear sky like scattered diamonds. Perfect. They’ll look magical from the outdoor rink.
Through the windows, I can see the dining room is mostly dark, just a few lights still on near the bar, the warm glow suggesting the intimate quiet of a restaurant winding down for the night. They should be almost done closing up. Perfect timing.
