She stays silent for a few miles, the city giving way to trees before the familiar gates of our neighborhood come into view. It isn’t until the wrought iron gate closes behind us that she finally speaks.
“Your house,” she says, turning her body to face me. “But no serious talk in front of Aubrey. Of any variety. I’m not in the right headspace for anything that matters right now.”
Her words are soft but deliberate. And I hear the truth buried between them. She agreed to the surgery.
I grip the wheel tighter, forcing my expression neutral as my gut sinks. The last time she went under anesthesia…we both promised to never face that again.
Now all I can think about is finding a way through her walls before she shuts me out again, because this time, I’m not letting her face it alone.
The sun dips low as we turn onto my street, painting everything in that soft orange light that you don’t see in the city. Aubrey’s small frame bounces on the front porch swing, her legs kicking as Hannah’s K-9 stands guard.
When Aubrey spots us, her hand shoots up in an excited wave, and Oakley’s quiet sigh beside me softens into something almost like peace.
Yeah.
After everything we’ve lost, maybe this is how we begin to heal.
Chapter 18
Oakley Kate
Ican honestly say I never expected to use a little girl as a buffer between me and my ex-fiancé while settling into a home theater for a princess movie and finger foods, but there is a first time for everything.
Silas says the basement had already been converted into this cozy space when he bought the house, but he added the theater components to review game film with the guys. If the fluffy pink blankets and stuffed animals are anything to go by, the space hasn’t seen much hockey lately.
The couch is one of those U-shaped ones that have the platform built all the way across so it can function as a giant bed. Aubrey is curled into my side under a worn unicorn blanket as she silently mouths the words toThe Princess Diaries—the first one, of course. Her eyelids take a little longer to open each time she blinks as I comb my fingers through her hair, struggling to believe I’m in this house after swearing I’d never step foot in it.
And yet, the level of comfort, of contentment, that I feel in this dark room with a little girl, my ex-fiancé, and one of his best friends is something I haven’t felt since before I gave it all up.
When an ice wrap suddenly presses against my leg, I jump and bite back a curse as a stab of pain flicks up to my hip. I shoot daggers at Silas.
“You good?” he asks, not pausing his ministrations.
“Peachy keen,” I mumble as I look back at the screen, but the way his hands feel against my skin makes it a struggle to focus on Anne Hathaway teaching Abigail Breslin how to wave like a princess.
Rooker has been mostly quiet since we got here, but he’s watching us intently now.
“What?” I ask, my tone sharper than I intended.
I expect him to shy away from my directness, but instead, he chuckles. “The amount of sexual tension between the two of you is palpable, man.”
Silas grunts before cutting his eyes at Rooks, and I realize he’s been resting his hand on my leg for several minutes without a reason. Why does that set off the butterflies in my stomach?
“What is your deal, man?” he asks Rooks.
“No deal. The two of you just give off serious old married couple vibes. It’s adorable.”
“Can we not talk about this in front of the kid? The last thing she needs is mixed signals about what’s going on here,” I say, refusing to look at either guy as a blush spreads up my neck.
“She’s been asleep for ten minutes, Kates.”
I glance at Silas as he nods toward my side. Sure enough, Aubrey is down for the count, a faint snore drifting from her lips.
Rooker circles behind the couch and scoops my snuggle buddy into his arms with practiced ease. Aubrey snuggles deep into his chest as if she knows even in her sleep that one of her greatest protectors has her.
“I’ll tuck her in and see myself out,” he says gently so as not to disturb her. “You guys need to figure out whatever this”—hewaves a finger between the two of us—“is before we hit the road. We need Cap’s head on the ice.”
Silas settles into the spot where Aubrey had been, crossing an ankle over his knee and slinging his arm over the back of the couch. “He isn’t wrong,” he whispers. “Something is up with you, and it’s more than surgery nerves.”
