Page 105 of Truck Hard

Jenny pulls me aside as I’m gathering my things. “Hey, can I tell you something?” When I nod, she continues. “You may not realize this, but you light up when you talk about Liam? That’s real. That’s your heart telling you what it wants. Maybe it’s time to listen to it instead of your fears.”

Her words follow me up the stairs and out into the night air. The parking lot is darker now, but somehow it feels less threatening than before. As I unlock my car, I catch a glimpse of my reflection in the window. There are tear tracks on my cheeks and my eyes are red, but I look… lighter somehow. Like I’ve set down a burden I didn’t even know I was carrying.

The drive home gives me time to process everything I’ve heard tonight. Every story shared, every piece of advice given. But mostly I think about what Jenny said about listening to my heart.

What is my heart trying to tell me? When I strip away the fear and doubt, what do I really want?

The answer comes with startling clarity. I want Liam. I want the life he’s offering—not just for Cam’s sake, but for my own. I want to feel safe and loved and cherished. I want to trust again, to laugh again, to live without constantly looking over my shoulder.

Charlie took so much from me, but he doesn’t get to take this too. He doesn’t get to rob me of the chance at real happiness, at the kind of love I always dreamed of finding.

As I pull into my driveway, my hand itches to reach for my phone. To call Liam right now and tell him everything I’verealized. But it’s late, and this conversation deserves more than a rushed phone call.

Tomorrow, I promise myself as I head inside. Tomorrow I’ll find the courage to be honest with him. To let him see all of me—broken pieces and all—and trust that he won’t run away.

For tonight, though, I feel something I haven’t felt in years—hope. Real, tangible hope for the future. And for the first time since Charlie entered my life, I actually believe I deserve it.

Cam’s laughter drifts down from upstairs, probably playing video games again. The sound warms my heart, reminding me why I need to be brave. My son deserves to see his mother happy, whole, and loved. He deserves to see what a healthy relationship looks like.

We both do.

I climb the stairs to my bedroom, already planning what I’ll say to Liam tomorrow. But when I reach for my phone to set my alarm, I notice a text from him sent hours ago.

Liam

Hope you’re okay. Missing you.

The simple words would have sent me running in panic just this morning. Now they make my heart ache with longing.

My fingers hover over the keyboard as I debate responding. Part of me wants to pour out everything I’m feeling right now, but I know this conversation needs to happen face to face.

Still, I can’t leave him wondering if I’ve slipped away completely. Can’t let him think I don’t care.

Taking a deep breath, I type.

Hannah

Can we talk?

The message sits there for a moment before I hit send, my heart pounding. But it feels right. It feels like the first step toward the future I want—the future we all deserve.

Now I just have to be brave enough to take the next step. To let him in completely, with all my fears and scars and hopes for tomorrow.

For the first time in longer than I can remember, I’m actually looking forward to tomorrow.

Chapter 23

Healing Through Connection

Liam

“Son of a bitch,” I mutter as a nail bends sideways, again. My frustration echoes through the half-finished second floor of Garret’s house. The late afternoon sun streams through the unfinished walls, casting long shadows across the plywood floor. I’ve been wrestling with these stairs for hours, and my patience is wearing thin.

“Language!” Charlotte’s voice floats up from the kitchen below, followed by Rayne’s giggling. The sound of their laughter mingles with the scent of something sweet baking—probably those sugar cookies Rayne’s been begging to make all week.

“Sorry!” I call back, though I can’t help but smile. The simplicity of this moment strikes me—my brother’s family, happy and whole. The house may be a work in progress, but the love filling it is already fully formed.

Garret emerges from the bathroom he’s been tiling, wiping dust from his hands. “Need help with that?”

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