“Yes, ma’am.”
She smiled, the kind of smile that made men twice my size confess things. “There’s my boy.”
She padded away. I lay back on the bed and stared at the fan blades until they blurred.
I thought of the future I wanted, the one I’d been too scared to claim.
No more running.
Chapter Fifty Seven
Hunter
Three days after I landed, I was boarding another plane. But this time, I wasn’t running. I was going home to deal with the mess I’d made.
When I walked through that door, I would do so with an open heart and a plan to show Camille and the kids that I was all in. Ready to face the hard parts, to show up, to love deeper. Determined to be there, not just in body but in spirit, building new memories that might one day heal the old ones.
Therapy helped me peel back the guilt, but it didn’t erase the truth that I’d left her standing in that living room, and then I’d buried her in weeks of silence. If I wanted a shot at fixing it, a text wasn’t going to cut it.
So I showed up.
She was just stepping out of the clinic, hair pulled back, bag slung over her shoulder, her whole body carrying the weight of exhaustion. My chest squeezed at the sight of her.
“Camille,” I called softly.
She froze, eyes widening when she saw me by the truck.The guarded look in her face told me I was the last person she expected, or wanted, to see here.
“I need to talk to you,” I said, stepping closer.
Her lips pressed into a thin line. “I can’t. I’ve got to pick up the kids.”
“I already asked your mom,” I said quickly. “She’s got them for the evening.”
Her brow furrowed, surprise flickering across her face. “You… you talked to my mom?”
I nodded, heart pounding. “I told her I screwed up and that I wanted to fix it. She said she’d keep them for as long as we needed.”
For a moment, she just stood there, staring at me, the wall between us almost visible. Something flickered in her eyes, a mixture of hesitation, hope, and the hurt I had inflicted not so long ago. Doubt tugged at the edges of her expression, betraying the struggle within her. ??I shoved my hands into my pockets, fighting the urge to reach for her. “Please, Camille. Just let me take you somewhere. Just talk to me. If, after tonight, you still don’t want this, I’ll back off. But give me the chance to say the things I should’ve said weeks ago.”
Her silence stretched, leaving my pulse drumming in my ears.
But I didn’t move.
This time, I just waited.
Chapter Fifty Eight
Camille
For a moment, I thought I had misheard him. Did he say he’d actually gone to my mom and arranged for her to take the kids? It was such a Hunter thing to do. He was reckless, bold, and frustratingly thoughtful all at once.
The hollowness that lingered inside me was knotted with every quiet night between us. The unanswered texts. The way he’d stormed out and left me standing in the living room with three pairs of little eyes watching me break. Their confusion and worry mirrored what I felt inside, telling me, without words, that they sensed something was wrong. The twins continued their babbling of “Hunty,” while Zeke grew quieter, his questions held tightly behind a brave face. It was like sharing my heartbreak each day, their innocent hopefulness wrapping around my own doubts, pulling them into our uncertainty.
The hurt was still raw, sharp enough to make me hold my ground as I crossed my arms, allowing my bag to slip downmy shoulder. “You think one gesture makes up for weeks of nothing?”
His jaw worked, eyes locked on me, pleading. “No. I think showing up is the first step to proving I’m not running anymore.” I hated how much those words cracked me open.
Silence stretched between us, heavy and alive. Cars passed on the street, the hum of life moving on, while we stood stuck in our own mess. Part of me wanted to say yes. To slide into the passenger seat and finally hear the explanation I’d been craving. The other part wanted to walk away, to protect myself before hope sank its claws in again. So I stood there, torn in two, staring at him, hoping the answer might write itself across his face.
