My mind kept drifting backward.
After our fight, Eric and I had fallen asleep tangled together. He’d held me so tightly it bordered on desperate, like he was afraid I’d slip away if he loosened his grip.
Yesterday, when I woke, he was already dressed. Composed in a way that made everything harder. He’d handed me coffee, pressed a careful kiss to my mouth, and told me he was spending the day with his family.
No invitation.
Last night, he’d called to say he was staying with his family. The words had cut sharper than I’d expected. Of course he should be with them. I would have done the same.
It still felt like being edged out.
Today, though, he’d asked me to come. To be here before they took him in. To wish them luck.
I’d promised that much. But nothing beyond it.
The decision to leave had settled quietly inside me before I even arrived.
Once everyone had returned to the waiting room and the adrenaline of the sendoff began to fade, I stood.
“I’m going to head out,” I said.
The silence that followed was immediate. Shock flickered across their faces.
I forced my voice steady. “Can someone call and let me know how it goes?”
Sylvie reached for me first. I stepped into her space and kissed her once on each cheek, the familiar Quebecois greeting suddenly heavy with finality. She broke down, gripping my hands like I was taking something with me when I walked away.
Even Celeste—intimidating, domineering Celeste—had tears in her eyes. Marc and Glenn each hesitated before pulling me into firm, wordless hugs. Embraces that felt like forgiveness I didn’t deserve.
From the doorway, I turned back for one last look.
They’d drawn together without thinking, closing ranks in the center of the waiting room. Arms looped around waists. Hands settled on shoulders. Bodies angled inward, forming a tight circle that shut out the rest of the world. They held each other while they waited for the two missing pieces who would make them whole again.
This was what family looked like.
The sight pressed hard against my chest, tightening my throat.
They had exactly what I’d promised to give Hunter. Not just relatives. True belonging.
Family wasn’t about blood or obligation. It was acceptance and alliance, people who chose to love you despite your flaws and stand by you when everything fell apart.
I’d made that promise for my son, but standing there watching the Alexanders, I realized how desperately I wanted it for myself too.
A new kind of hope bloomed in my chest, terrifying in its intensity.
Maybe I could have this. Maybe I could build something real and lasting.
I just had to put myself out in the world and try.
Chapter Thirty-Five
Jamie
It wasn’t just the Alexanders I left behind when I pointed my car east. Hunter stayed too. Dylan had promised to take good care of him, with his mom and stepdad on standby, ready to help if needed.
They were getting to know each other now, feeling their way through something that should have existed years ago. Testing boundaries. Learning how to stand in the same room as father and son without dragging the past in between them. It was long overdue, and the truth of that pressed hard against my ribs as the highway unspooled ahead of me.
For years, I’d blamed Dylan for not showing up. Accused him of indifference. But I’d been the one reinforcing the distance. I built the walls. I justified every barrier as protection, telling myself I was shielding my child from instability when I was also shielding myself.
