I needed to make amends. I had no idea how or if it was even possible, but I wanted to try. Seeing how he’d taken care of the house, knowing how good things were before we lost Mom and Trina—there had to be something salvageable between us.
I just hoped it wasn’t too late.
Maybe if I reconciled with Dad, I could send for Hunter. My father and son should meet at least once. My decisions had impacted them both so deeply.
I’d probably done Hunter a disservice keeping him from this place. He’d never experienced life outside Toronto’s rat race. Never seen the forests surrounding this place, gone to a real farmer’s market, or skied at the resort. He’d never had a backyard to play in. And he’d never spent a lazy Sunday watching old movies with his whole family.
He might not ever get some of those moments, and most of that was my fault. I’d robbed him of what could’ve been the best parts of his childhood.
Pain bloomed in my chest, indecision cracking my heart.
Part of me wanted to run back to the life I’d built over the last decade. Back to the predictable. The safe. I could pack up, leave Copper Ridge in the rearview mirror, and pretend this detour had never happened.
But that part of me was operating out of fear.
Fear that I might want to stay and make a new life here. For me and my son.
Toronto had lost some of its luster compared to Copper Ridge. The nostalgia and longing for this place were easy to ignore when I wasn’t immersed in it. But being here again—breathing this air, walking these streets—made the lie harder to hold.
I’d missed it. The town. The people. The version of myself I’d once been.
And if I left now, I’d miss Eric most of all. I wasn’t ready to move on without him.
Maybe this thing between us was purely circumstance, a forced connection built on need and fear. Two exhausted people clinging to comfort. Maybe the pull between us was just adrenaline and grief masquerading as chemistry.
Hell, under normal circumstances, we might bore each other senseless.
Maybe.
But when I’d woken this morning with my cheek pressed to his chest, his arm heavy and sure around my waist, everything had felt right. Not dramatic. Not reckless. Just…right.
He made staying feel possible.
Every reason I had to leave blurred when he touched me. The past didn’t disappear, but it didn’t feel as unmanageable when I was in his arms.
The sound of footsteps in the hallway pulled me from my thoughts. Dylan appeared in the doorway, strutting into my father’s hospital room like he belonged there. Like he owned the damn place.
“Hey there, Princess. You’re looking good this evening.” Cocky as always.
“What are you doing here?” If I wasn’t worried about waking my dad, I might’ve yelled.
“Thought I’d check in, see how you’re holding up.” He smiled like this was normal. “How’s he doing?”
“I don’t know. Fine, I guess. He’s been sleeping all day. But, really Dylan, why are you here?”
“Just finished my shift. Thought we could talk.” He hesitated, staring like he was daring me to make the first move.
“You want to talk again?”
“I was hoping we could continue our conversation from the other day.”
Thirty seconds in the room and I’d had enough. Talking wasn’t something we’d ever done successfully, even as a couple.
“I wanted you to know you were right.” His gaze dropped. “I should be taking more responsibility for Hunter. I want to. I’ve just been afraid. I don’t know what I’m doing. I wasn’t prepared to be a dad.”
Finally. After ten years, he was finally admitting what I’d been saying all along. The validation should have been sweet, but all I felt was exhaustion.
“Welcome to parenthood, Dylan. You think I had the first clue about being a mom? You think I was prepared? What kind of excuse is that?”
