Page 51 of Truck Hard

“Stop.” She pulls her hand free, but only to cup my face between her palms. “We can’t change the past. What matters is now. What matters is that you’re here, that you want to be part of Cam’s life. That’s all I ever wanted for him.”

I lean into her touch, drowning in the warmth of her eyes. “I want to be part of both your lives. If you’ll let me.”

Her thumb traces my cheekbone. “I’d like that.”

The moment stretches between us, heavy with possibility. I want to kiss her. Want to pull her close and never let go. But it’s too soon. She’s still raw from Charlie’s visit, still processing everything that’s happened.

Instead, I turn my head slightly, pressing a kiss to her palm. She shivers, but doesn’t pull away.

“We’ll figure this out.” I promise. “All of it. Together.”

She nods, slowly lowering her hands. “One day at a time?”

“One day at a time.” I agree.

We sit in comfortable silence, shoulders touching, listening to the muffled sounds of Cam’s game upstairs.

It feels peaceful. Right.

“Tell me about him?” I ask suddenly. “What was he like growing up?”

A smile touches Hannah’s lips. “He was such a happy baby. Always laughing, always curious about everything. He startedwalking early. Couldn’t wait to explore the world. And he was so stubborn.” She laughs softly. “Just like you.”

Pride and grief war in my chest. I missed so much. His first steps, first words, first day of school. “Keep going?”

She settles more comfortably against me, head resting on my shoulder. “He loved cars from the moment he could recognize them. Used to line up his toy cars in perfect rows, organizing them by color. I always wondered if he got that from you—that attention to detail.”

“Probably from you.” I counter. “You were always the organized one.”

“Mm, true.” Her voice grows softer, reminiscent.

Above us, Cam’s game continues, the faint sounds of virtual combat drifting down. I make a mental note to ask him about it later, to show interest in the things he enjoys. To start building the connection we should have had all along.

I have no clue how long we sit there, but at some point Hannah falls asleep at my side. Eventually, I fall asleep as well, only waking when I hear the creak of the stairs.

Cam comes down to get a bite to eat, but I don’t move. Hannah needs her rest and I’ll sit here all day if that means she gets it.

Eventually the sun rises high in the sky, painting the room in a soft white glow and Hannah stirs. She sits up quickly rubbing her eyes.

“How long did I sleep?” She looks around the room, her nose wrinkled as she takes in the bright light.

“I didn’t want to make you,” I say, taking her hand and lacing our fingers together.

“Would you...” Hannah hesitates. “Would you like to stay for lunch? Or early dinner? It won’t be anything fancy. I’m not even sure what I have to cook. But—”

“I’d love to.” The words come out perhaps too quickly, too eagerly, but I don’t care. “Need any help?”

She smiles—a real smile that lights up her whole face. “You still remember your way around this kitchen?”

“Some things you never forget.” Like the way she used to dance while cooking, how she’d hum under her breath, how she’d always sneak tastes of whatever she was making.

“Good.” She stands, still holding her hand in mine. “Then come help me feed our son.”

Our son. The words send a thrill through me as I let her pull me to my feet. This is really happening. This is my family.

My chance to make things right.

Chapter 12

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