CHAPTER FIFTEEN

AMELIA

The words hang in the air. “I’m here now. And I’m not going anywhere. Not without you or our son.”

His sincerity gives me pause. I want to believe him, to let go of the pain and betrayal that have haunted me for so long. But the scars on my heart, the ones time has barely begun to heal, whisper warnings of the dangers that come with hope.

“We need to talk about what’s going to happen next.” His gaze breaks down the walls I’ve put up to protect myself.

“Listen, Nathan––”

A high-pitched shout stops my response. “Mommy!”

“I’d better go see what’s going on.”

“Okay.”

I go inside and find Dylan in the living room.

“Mommy!” His chubby hands reach up toward me, his smile so bright it makes my heart swell. I scoop him into my arms and bury my face in his soft curls, breathing in his sweetness.

“Hey, little man. You ready for a walk?”

He nods, his bright eyes shining. I carry him to the front hall, where his stroller waits. As I buckle him in, my hands tremble. I take a steadying breath before pushing the stroller back out onto the porch.

Nathan is still there, his expression hovering between hope and uncertainty. He steps forward, his gaze flicking between me and Dylan.

Dylan waves at him. “Hi.”

Nathan crouches, bringing himself to eye level with our son. “Are we going for a walk?” His tone is soft and careful, as if any sudden move might break their delicate bond.

“Yes. Mommy, go.” Dylan’s command is firm, and I can’t help but smile at his assertiveness, a trait inherited from both sides.

“Okay, buddy. Let’s go.”

Together, Nathan and I maneuver the stroller down the porch steps, our hands brushing occasionally, each touch sending a jolt through me, stirring feelings I’ve tried so hard to bury.

The street unfolds before us, tree-lined and serene. Our footsteps crunch on the pavement, and the stillness of the neighborhood makes it feel like the perfect time for a walk.

“Did you come straight back home when you left college?” Nathan asks, not long into our stroll.

I gaze at the road ahead and focus on the houses and manicured lawns. “Yeah, but I didn’t stay long. I went to Dallas to find a job. I needed steady work before Dylan was born.”

Dylan’s chatter fills the air, his little voice rising with excitement over every discovery—a squirrel darting up a tree, a butterfly fluttering past, a dog walking by. His enthusiasm is contagious, and despite everything, I can’t help but smile.

“Didn’t your parents help?” His hesitant tone suggests uncertainty about pressing further.

A familiar figure approaches us on the sidewalk before I can answer. Mrs. Allen, my old teacher and the town’s unofficial gossip eyes us.

“Amelia, it’s so good to see you! I’m sure your parents are thrilled to have you and your little one back home. And who is this?” Her gaze moves to Nathan, full of questions she’s eager to ask.

I open my mouth to answer, but Nathan steps in, his voice confident. “Nathan Grant. Nice to meet you.”

Mrs. Allen’s eyebrows shoot up. “Amelia, do you have a new friend? I’m so happy for you, especially after losing your husband. I was worried you might not find anyone else.”

Heat rushes to my face, embarrassment blooming as I struggle to respond. But before I can, Nathan massages my back. “Yes, I’m Amelia’s fiancé.”

Mrs. Allen gasps, and I can see the gears turning in her head. The gossip mill is already working overtime.

“We should get going,” Nathan says, his tone polite but final. “Nice meeting you.”

We walk away, leaving Mrs. Allen with her phone already to her ear, no doubt spreading the news across town.

Nathan’s voice drops low as we turn the corner, his eyes burning into mine. “When the hell did you get married?”

I bite back my frustration, glancing down to check on Dylan. He’s asleep, his face peaceful, his breathing steady.

“I was never married. Dad was so upset that I got pregnant out of wedlock that, to save face, he told everyone I’d lost my husband. He didn’t want people talking.”

His gaze softens, and he rubs my arm.

“He didn’t want me around after that,” I continue, my voice strained. “He was ashamed of me. That’s another reason why I left for Dallas.”

He takes my hand and gives me the strength to keep going and share the rest of the story. “I was lucky. Ester took a chance on me and gave me a job at The Main Event. I was supposed to handle the books, but I’m good at organizing, so I started planning events. When she retired, Jules and I bought her out.”

I glance up at him, searching his eyes, needing him to understand the weight of my journey—the battles I’ve fought to give Dylan a good life. “I did everything I could to make a home for him.”

He cups my cheek and brushes away a tear with his thumb.

“I know you did, baby. I know.”

His lips claim mine in a kiss that’s both tender and desperate. When we finally pull apart, I rest my forehead against his, and for a moment, everything else fades—the past, the misunderstandings, even the uncertainty of the future. All that matters is the here and now, the two of us, and the life we’ve been given a second chance to build.

“We’ll be okay,” he murmurs, his voice steady, filled with confidence I want to believe in. “We’ll make it work.”

I nod, but a flicker of doubt remains. As much as I want to trust him, the scars run deep. “I hope so.”

He kisses me one last time, lingering as if drawing strength from the connection. “We will.”

After a moment, we turn back to the house, the weight of what lies ahead pressing in. As we step through the door, it feels like crossing a threshold into something new—uncharted, yet filled with the possibility of healing.

Mom helps us pack, and after a tearful goodbye, we leave.

As we drive away, I glance in the rearview mirror, watching the house shrink into the distance. I swallow against the tightness in my chest, my thoughts racing ahead. This isn’t just about us anymore; it’s about our son and our future.