“I’m sorry you feel that way, Zac. But remember this, none of what’s happened is your fault. None of it, okay? You might not believe it right now, but your dad still loves and cares about you. He might have changed, but his love for you hasn’t. I love that you want to protect your mother. You’re a good kid, Zac. You have so many great things about you. And I just know your parents are proud of you no matter what. I’m proud of you.”
He keeps his gaze fixed on the glue gun, lingering there for a moment longer, as if he’s quietly absorbing everything I’ve said. Then he nods once—quietly, before picking it upagain and returning to his task, carefully gluing the pop sticks on the roof of the model house. He doesn’t bring it up again. Instead, he initiates a lighter conversation about wanting to outdo his classmate, Sebastian, who he insists isreallygood at making things.
We spend the next hour and a half constructing and talking, until Hope reappears in the doorway to let us know lunch is ready. We eat at the dining table, where we scoff down the best chicken pot pie I’ve ever had, the heavy mood that was earlier now lifted, replaced by laughter and easy chatter.
After our meal, Zac proudly shows his mother his almost-completed house, walking her through each step of how we built the model. All that’s left now is the painting, which he has decided to finish on his own. Hope listens in quiet awe, a genuine smile of pride lighting her face as she takes in every word her son says.
I hang back, watching the way they interact with each other so naturally, and feel a warmth bloom in my chest. Adrian may have shattered the family they once were, but in this moment, it’s clear they’ve built something new—something stronger, better.
Watching Hope dote on her son and celebrate his accomplishment is all the proof I need that the family they are now is closer than ever.
When it’s time to say goodbye, Zac wraps his arms around me in a tight hug, and I return it without hesitation, squeezing him right back. As soon as he pulls away, he thanks me once more for my help, promising to share his prize money withme if he wins. I tell him he deserves to keep it all, that he’s the one who worked so hard for it. He seems to accept that, then goes back to his model house, to start on the painting process.
Hope walks me to the door, and the silence between us no longer feels uncomfortable, only calm, natural in a way it wasn’t before.
“I know I’ve probably said it a dozen times today, but thank you, Kaden—for helping Zac with his project, and for your kindness and generosity. I feel like my list of things I owe you for just keeps growing longer.”
I let out a quiet chuckle. “It was my pleasure, Hope. I’d happily do it again. It was a lot of fun. Zac’s a bright kid, hella talented too. If I had a son like him, I’d build a museum of everything he creates, and display it proudly for everyone to see.”
Something shifts in her expression—subtle, almost impossible to read. But the quickening rise and fall of her chest, and the small, unguarded smile tugging at her lips, tells me my words have reached somewhere no one else has. Her gaze drops, lashes fluttering as she fixates on something near her shoe. When she finally looks up again, her icy-blue eyes glisten with unshed tears.
“You know, Kaden, we might not know each other very well, but even in the short time we’ve spent together, I’m so grateful you sent me that message over a year ago.”
“So am I, Hope. So am I.”
She steps closer, her movements deliberate and slow, and slides her arms around my back. I wrap my own around her,drawing her body flush against me, until my face rests in the crook of her neck. I close my eyes, breathing her in, letting her scent and warmth soak into me like a summer’s breeze. We stand there holding each other, neither of us willing to be the first to let go. It’s only when Zac’s voice calls from the living room that we finally break apart.
“Drive safely, Kaden.”
“I will. Take care, Hope. And thanks for lunch.”
She nods, but doesn’t say anything more.
I climb into my car, my movements unrushed, not wanting to leave her just yet. She stands in the same spot, arms crossed, but not in a guarded or hostile way—just watching.
When I finally pull out of the driveway, I give her one last wave before I’m on the road, inching further away from her house.
Something is shifting inside me—between us. Something I’m not ready to name. Because even if I wanted to, I can’t let myself feel it—at least not yet.
Not while so much remains unspoken. And not while she still has no idea of the person I once was.
Chapter 28
Hope
It’s been six days since Kaden came to my home and helped Zac with his school project. Six days since that hug that almost crossed every line for me, stirring a rush of confusing, unexpected feelings I hadn’t felt in years.
Not since the early days with Adrian. That fluttering, breathless sensation in your stomach, when you realise you’re starting to feel something for someone.
At first, I tried to deny it—telling myself it was just the loneliness making me feel this way. But ever since that afternoon at my place, when he worked alongside my son, patiently helping him build a model house, something changed.
Everything I initially thought about Kaden had begun to shift.
He doesn’t know this, but I heard every word he and Zac shared in the living room, even when they tried to keep their voices low. I heard it all—how Zac felt about his dad, and the tender words of praise and encouragement coming from Kaden.
I was almost in tears just listening to them. I wanted nothing more than to gather them both into my arms and never let go.
My heart ached for Zac, for the pain he’s been quietly carrying. For everything his father is putting him through, puttingusthrough. I wanted to cross the room, pull him close, and whisper that things would get better. That his father is just trying to find his way in this new life, and that no matter what, he would always love him, always care.
