But the scary part is that our safety net is gone. What’s left is choice. And I don’t know if either of us is ready to make it without hiding from the consequences.
forty-five
CHLOE
I’m frozen.
As the implications of Aiden’s discovery settle around us, my thoughts do the exact opposite.
I probably should get off his lap, but I don’t want to. It feels like we’re in a bubble, safe from any choices that might change things.
Things that matter.
Does learning I didn’t have to marry Aiden after all change how I feel about him?
No.
It might be the only question I can answer with certainty at the moment, but it’s probably the most important one.
But I think I also have to be honest about the fact that I don’t know if I’d been so open to a second chance without that pressure point. Without the studio leak, without the ecosystem I’d built for Phoebe and me, collapsing.
Even still…it feels like we were always meant to end up here. Married and building a life together.
He looks worried, and my brain is supplying too many reasons as to why. Ones that match the hurt I’m feeling, by no fault of his.
I just feel a little betrayed, maybe a little manipulated. I’d be shocked if he didn’t, too.
He wrestled that stipulation beside his grief—back when the house was quiet, and the farm felt too big, when everything he touched carried his dad’s absence. And that’s another thing that didn’t need to be tangled up in loss.
My phone buzzes.
I ignore it, because this—us—is more important.
But then it rings again, and unease settles between my shoulders.
“Everything okay?” he murmurs as I tug my phone out of my back pocket.
The other shoe drops when I see Mom’s photo light up my screen. Since they went back home the day after Christmas, she’s called less. Hovered less. Multiple phone calls in a row are usually never a great sign, but especially not in our current circumstances.
My gut is screaming in panic.
“I know we need to talk about this—” I start, glancing at Aiden.
“Take it,” he says immediately. His voice is steady, but his eyes don’t leave my face.
I swipe to answer. “Mom?”
“Chloe,” she starts, and that sets the tone immediately.
Her tone is off. It’s too controlled. Like the time she told us they had to put our dog down, and she knew if we fell apart, that we would, too.
My chest tightens. “What’s wrong?”
“It’s your dad.”
All the blood drains from my head, and Aiden grabs the phone as it slips from my hand. His grip on me tightens as he sets it on the desk, his thumb pressing the speaker button.
“He collapsed this morning,” she continues. “At work. They think it’s his heart. He’s stable now, but they’re keeping him overnight.”
