I’m stronger than this.
The crunch of boots on ice resonates behind me, and I can tell it’s my husband before he speaks. After fourteen years, I know the sound of his footsteps, the pattern of his breathing, the way the air changes when he’s near. It’s muscle memory, bone-deep knowledge will likely be in my DNA until the day I die.
“Let me help,” he says, his voice soft in a way that makes my chest ache.
I keep my eyes on the tangled line. “I’ve got it.”
“Rach.” The old nickname hits me like a physical blow. “Please.”
Thatpleaseundoes me somehow. It’s not just about the fishing line. We both know that. And suddenly, I’m too tired to keep fighting.
My hands still as he steps closer, and I breathe in the familiar scent of him—coffee and wool and that same cologne he’s worn since college. My body remembers this, remembers him, even as my mind screams at me to maintain the distance I’ve so carefully built.
His fingers brush mine as he takes the tangled line, and even through two layers of gloves, the contact sends a jolt through my system. I catch my breath, hoping he doesn’t notice, but of course he does. Karan has always noticed everything about me, except when it matters most.
“Remember the first time we came here?” His voice is low, meant only for me as he works on the knots. “You told me ice fishing was the most ridiculous way to spend a vacation.”
Despite everything, my lips curve up slightly. “It is ridiculous.”
“But you came back. Every time, you came with me.”
“I didn’t come for the fishing.” The words slip out before I can stop them.
His fingers pause on the line, and I watch them, these hands I know so well. Hands that used to cup my face when we kissed, that cradled our boys when they were newborns, that now spend more time typing code than touching anything real.
“I know I haven’t been here lately,” he says. “Not really here, even when I was physically present.”
I look up at him then, really look, for the first time since our fight last night. His eyes are the same deep brown that made me forget my lecture notes that first day I caught a glimpse of him in that CEGEP humanities class, but something in them appears different now.
“Karan…” I start, not sure what I'm going to say.
“I want to be here now,” he cuts in, his voice urgent. “Not just for this vacation. For all of it. For the ridiculous ice fishing trips and the quiet mornings and the chaos of getting the boys ready for school. For you.”
A gust of wind whips my hair across my face, and before I can react, his hand is there, tucking it back under my hat. It’s such a familiar gesture, one he’s performed countless times over the years, and my throat tightens at the muscle memory of it.
This time, I don’t pull away.
“Words are easy,” I say softly, but I can hear the waver in my own voice, sense the crack forming in the walls I’ve built.
“Then let me show you.” The tangled line falls forgotten between us as he takes my hands in his. “Give me the chance to show you.”
Around us, the family continues their ice fishing. Corey’s excited chatter echoes to my ears, along with Cayce’s dramatic retelling of some weird dream he’s supposedly had to his cousins, and Jocelyne calling out that lunch will be ready soon. But in this moment, all I can focus on is the warmth of Karan’s hands around mine, the earnest plea in his eyes, the weight of fourteen years between us.
I look down at our joined hands, then back up at him. The man I fell in love with along the shores of the Saint Lawrence river. The father of my children. The stranger he became. The person standing before me now, asking for another chance.
And slowly, standing on the edge of something both terrifying and hopeful, I nod.
Chapter 22
Karan
“Who wants to help me with lunch?”
Auntie Anjali hasn’t stripped out of her snow suit yet, and she’s already thinking about food. I can’t help but smile. Though my situation with Rachel is precarious at best, being surrounded by the known comforts of my family is a relief.
“I will.” Rachel’s voice hits me straight in the sternum.
Since I took over helping the twins out of their suits, Rachel is already out of hers, now dragging her wet outdoor clothes towards the fire stove to hang them to dry.
