Page 29 of Nolan

My phone vibrates in my hand. I'm surprised that she's answered it this late at night, but that's Belle, always here when we need her.

A: I'm on my way. 15 minutes. Stay strong. I'm coming.

Relief washes over me, so intense I nearly sob. Annabelle is coming. Despite everything, the awkwardness after that kiss, my cowardly retreat, the tension that's been building between us, she's coming.

"Someone's meeting us at the hospital," I tell the paramedic, and saying it aloud makes it real, tangible. "Ashlynn's... her nanny. More than that, really."

The paramedic smiles. "Family comes in all forms."

Family. Yes. That's what Annabelle has become to us, isn't it? To Ashlynn, certainly. And to me...

I think about last night, the taste of her lips, the shock of finally doing what I've wanted to do for months. And then my panic, my retreat, my apology for something I didn't actually regret. God, I've been such a fool.

The ambulance slows as we approach the hospital, and I lean close to Ashlynn, pressing a kiss to her forehead, still burning beneath my lips.

"Help is coming, princess. Both kinds of help. The doctors will make you feel better, and Belle... Belle is on her way."

At the mention of Annabelle's name, Ashlynn's eyes flutter open, a ghost of a smile touching her lips before they close again. Even in her fever-daze, she knows who I'm talking about. Who we're waiting for.

As the ambulance doors open and the gurney is wheeled out, I follow, my hand still clutching Ashlynn's. The night air is coolagainst my skin, the hospital entrance blazing with light against the darkness.

I glance back over my shoulder, searching the night as if I could conjure Annabelle by sheer will. She's coming. And when she gets here, when Ashlynn is stable and safe, I have so much to tell her. So much to make right.

Because tonight has made one thing crystal clear: life is too short, too unpredictable, to keep running from what you want. From what you need.

And I need Annabelle. Not just as Ashlynn's caretaker, but as my partner, my confidante, my...

I follow the gurney through the hospital doors, my heart split between terror for my daughter and longing for the woman rushing to be by our side. Tonight has changed everything. There's no going back now.

And for the first time since I tasted Annabelle's lips and then fled like a coward, I don't want to go back. I want to move forward, together, the three of us, whatever that might mean.

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

Annabelle

My phone buzzes, jolting me awake from a deep sleep. The screen is blindingly bright in the darkness of my bedroom, and Nolan's name flashes across it. My heart skips a beat, not just because it's him calling, but because it's 2:17 AM. Nothing good comes from middle-of-the-night phone texts.

N: Ashlynn's fever spiked. In ambulance heading to Memorial Hospital. I know it's the middle of the night but please, if you can come... I can't do this alone. I need you here. We both do.

I'm already out of bed, fumbling for the light switch.

A: I'm on my way. 15 minutes. Stay strong. I'm coming.

I'm already pulling clothes from my drawer. There's no universe where I wouldn't go to them. Where I wouldn't go to her.

The drive to the hospital is a blur, my mind racing with possibilities. Is it just a fever? Something worse? I think of Ashlynn's tiny face, her sweet giggles, the way she calls me "Anna" because she can't quite manage "Annabelle" yet. My hands tighten on the steering wheel. She has to be okay.

Memorial Hospital's emergency entrance is harshly lit against the night sky. I park haphazardly and rush inside, the antiseptic smell hitting me as I approach the desk.

"I'm looking for Ashlynn King? Three years old, just brought in by ambulance?" My voice sounds steadier than I feel.

The nurse directs me to a waiting area, and that's when I see him,Nolan, pacing like a caged animal, his hair sticking up in that way that tells me he's been running his hands through it repeatedly. He's still in his pajama bottoms and a hastily thrown-on t-shirt. When our eyes meet, something crumbles in his expression.

"You came," he says, and the relief in his voice makes my chest ache.

"Of course I came." I move toward him without thinking, and he meets me halfway. His arms fold around me, pulling me against his chest in a desperate embrace that feels nothing like the hesitant kiss from last week, the one we've been awkwardly dancing around ever since.

"Thank you for being here," he murmurs into my hair. "I didn't know who else to text."

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