And for the first time in a long time, I was choosing hope over fear.
Choosing vulnerability over safety.
Choosing to believe that maybe, just maybe, Derek was worth the risk.
And that still terrified me more than anything.
But it also felt like the first real breath I’d taken in years.
Chapter Thirty-Six
Derek
Five weeks.
Five weeks of showing up at Kat’s door every morning. Five weeks of breakfast with my daughter and the woman I loved. Five weeks of slowly, carefully building something that felt more fragile than glass and more precious than anything I’d ever held.
And now I was about to fuck it all up by taking Kat on an actual date.
I sat in my truck outside her house, hands gripping the steering wheel, trying to remember how to breathe like a normal human being instead of a man on the edge of a goddamn panic attack.
You’ve got this,I told myself.You’ve been having meals with her for weeks. This is just dinner. Somewhere else. Alone.
Yeah. That was the problem.
Alone with Kat meant no Frankie as a buffer. No easy conversation about schoolwork or what movie they wanted to watch. Just me and her and all the shit we’d been dancing around while we pretended breakfast was casual and normal and not the most important part of my entire fucking day.
I checked my reflection in the rearview mirror. I’d shaved. Put on a button-down shirt that Sam swore made me look “approachable” instead of “like you’re about to murder someone.” I’d even worn the boots Jack said were “date boots” instead of my usual work boots, though I still wasn’t entirely sure what the fuck the difference was.
You look fine,I told myself.Stop stalling.
I climbed out of the truck and walked up to the porch, my heart hammering against my ribs like it was trying to break free. I raised my hand to knock, then hesitated.
What if she’s changed her mind? What if she opens the door and tells me she can’t do this, that it is too much, too fast, too—
The door swung open before I could finish the thought.
Maggie stood there, one hand on her hip, a knowing smirk on her face.
“Well, well,” she said, looking me up and down. “Don’t you clean up nice.”
I blinked at her. “Where’s Kat?”
“Still getting ready.” Maggie stepped aside, gesturing for me to come in. “You’re early.”
“I’m on time.”
“Same thing.” She closed the door behind me and called over her shoulder, “Rhoda! Derek’s here!”
Rhoda appeared from the kitchen, wiping her hands on a dish towel. Her eyes lit up when she saw me, and I immediately knew I was in trouble.
“Oh, Derek,” she said, her voice dripping with amusement. “You look nervous.”
“I’m not nervous.”
“You’re sweating.”
“It’s warm outside.”
