Her heartbeat pounds against my side. Every thump reminds me that she’s still here, fighting despite every awful thing the universe has thrown at her.
Her words echo through me.
I don’t want to take three steps back with you, Chase.
I realize just how many times she’s had to rebuild what’s been stolen from her, what her mother broke.
Emotion floods me as I think how hard it must have been for her to let me in.
“I promise, Erin.” My voice comes out rough. “I won’t let the shadows of your past consume you. I’ll love you loud and fierce, even when you think you’re too broken. I’ll show up and be here for you when you can’t show up for yourself. You’ll never have to go through anything alone ever again. Not while I’m breathing.”
My eyes feel gritty,the way they always do after I’ve cried myself empty. My throat is tight and scratchy, like I swallowed a handful of sand in my sleep.
I wake with my cheek pressed against Chase’s collarbone. His eyes are heavy but focused and I sense he’s been watching me all night, purposely staying awake to keep the nightmares from finding me.
He coaxes me out of the tent once the sun is up, hands gentle, movements unhurried.
Inside, morning light spills across the table, catching the steam rising from the waffles.
A consistent throb pulses behind my eyes, but I pretend not to notice. I don’t even take aspirin for it, not wanting to draw attention to myself.
Buttery waffles, roasted coffee, and a hint of vanilla hang heavy in the air. Normally, I’d stuff my face, but today, the sweetness turns my stomach.
I drag the fork through my waffles without lifting it once. I just stare at my plate, utensil in my hand as Roman’s clinks against his dish. With every enthusiastic bite, the metal scratches, making my head ache.
My mind drags, watching him talk to his dad, who beams back at him as if his son is his entire universe and his sole purpose in life is to make sure that Roman stays happy.
The clattering of a fork against the wooden table pulls me from my thoughts. Roman climbs down from his chair and stands beside me, taking mine from my hand.
“Here,” he says, cutting my waffles for me into little bite-sized chunks that match his. When he’s done, he shoots me a grin and goes back to his seat.
My eyes flick over to Brax, who sends his son a wink for being helpful before sipping his coffee.
Roman waits eagerly for me to eat. I stab the fork into my waffle and swirl it around the fluffy strawberry compote that’s in a white ceramic pot on my plate and slide the fork into my mouth.
Holy heck.
“Dad makes the best waffles in the whole universe,” Roman says proudly as he steals another one from the plate in the middle of the table and hoovers it up instantly.
“Every year at Roman’s school, there’s a family picnic. The waffles are always a hit,” Chase says after he swallows his food.
“That sounds fun. When’s the next one?” I ask.
Roman shrugs. “We’re not going this year.”
“Why not, bud?” Chase asks.
Roman groans way too dramatically for a six-year-old. “Because all the single moms flirt with Dad, and the last girl I had a crush on told me I couldn’t have a crush on her because there was a chance my dad would marry her mom and we’d be siblings, and you shouldn’t have crushes on your siblings because that’s nesting.”
Brax chokes on his coffee and turns bright red while Chase throws his head back in laughter. I press my hand to my mouth, trying to stifle the amusement bubbling up inside me.
Brax shoots Chase aI will kill you if that leaves this tablelook.
“I also happen to be traveling back from an out-of-town conference that week,” Brax says, not bothering to correct his son’s mispronunciation of the word. As I look over at Brax, I can tell he’d rather sit through hours of heckling and comments about ‘nesting’ if it meant he could be next to Roman.
“I could go to the picnic with you?” I offer. “I’m not bad at following recipes, but I can’t promise they’ll be as tasty as your dad’s,” I tell Roman.
“Hey, bud, I’m sure if you ask Elena really nicely and give her your best secret smile, she’ll help out with the waffles,” Chase says.
