Page 27 of The Love Comeback
“Yeah, well, the way he left made getting over him pretty easy.” I shrug, trying to appear more nonchalant than I feel. “Colton and I did a lot of therapy. It helped. Colton’s in a good place now, all things considered. And I’m … I’m okay. We’re okay.”
Kade nods, watching me with those intense amber eyes that seem to see straight through me. He moves closer, stopping just a foot away from me. “Well, it’s okay if you’re not okay sometimes too, you know? You don’t have to be strong all the time, El.”
The nickname, so casual on his lips, breaks something loose inside me. I’ve spent five years being strong—forColton, for myself. Five years of keeping it together, of solving problems and making decisions and shouldering responsibilities that should’ve been shared between two parents.
“I’m tired sometimes,” I whisper, the admission feeling dangerous. “Of being the only one. The only parent, the only decision-maker, the only one who knows where the Band-Aids are or how Colton likes his sandwiches cut or what to do when he has nightmares about the crash.”
To my horror, tears well in my eyes, hot and unexpected. I blink, trying to force them away. “I’m sorry, I don’t even know why I’m telling you all this.”
Kade doesn’t hesitate. He closes the distance between us and wraps his arms around me, pulling me against his chest. The embrace is so sudden, so unexpected, that I freeze for a moment before melting into it. His body is solid and warm, his heartbeat steady against my cheek.
“You’re doing a great job,” he murmurs. “Anyone can see how much Colton adores you. How much he’s thriving. That’s all because of you.”
I close my eyes, allowing myself this moment of weakness, of leaning on someone else. His hands are gentle, one resting between my shoulder blades, the other at the small of my back. The embrace feels both familiar and new—the same Kade who held me in high school, but different too. Stronger, steadier, more sure of himself.
“Thank you,” I manage, my voice muffled against his shirt. “For listening. For understanding.”
“Always,” he replies, and I can feel the word rumble in hischest.
We embrace each other for what feels like both an eternity and not nearly long enough. I should pull away—I know I should—but for just this moment, I let myself be held, supported, seen. For just this moment, I’m not the only adult in the room, the only one carrying the weight.
And it feels dangerously good.
When we eventually pull away, my cheeks flush warm with embarrassment. I’m not usually like this—all emotional and needy. I’ve spent five years building myself into someone who doesn’t fall apart, who doesn’t need anyone else. And here I am, practically crying on Kade’s shoulder after one evening of unpacking boxes.
Pull it together, Ella.
“Sorry about all that,” I mutter, taking a step back and tucking my hair behind my ear. “I don’t normally…”
“Don’t apologize,” Kade says, his voice gentle. “Really. It’s okay.”
I nod, not trusting myself to say more. The moment stretches between us, a bit awkward now, the ease from earlier replaced by something heavier.
I clear my throat and turn back to the boxes.
“Let’s finish up this one,” I suggest, gesturing to the box of photos we’ve been working on. “I still need to figure out where everything’s going to go.”
Kade nods, moving back to the box. The air feels different now—still warm,but charged with unspoken things.
“This place is going to look great once you’ve got everything set up,” Kade encourages, returning to the easy conversation of before. “Good bones, as they say.”
“Yeah, it’s coming along nicely,” I agree, relief washing over me at the change of subject. “Colton’s already talking about wanting to paint his room blue like the Glaciers’ jerseys.”
“Smart kid.” Kade grins and reaches into the box. He pulls out another frame, this one holding a photo of Brett in his college hockey uniform, arm slung around Katie, both of them laughing.
“Man, Brett was something else on the ice. I always thought he could’ve gone pro if he’d wanted to.”
“He probably would’ve.” I nod. “But everything changed when Katie got pregnant with Colton their junior year of college. But he never complained about giving up hockey. Not once. Said being Colton’s dad was worth more than any trophy.”
Kade smiles. “That’s just who Brett was.”
“Oh, most definitely.”
We continue to work in silence for a few minutes. It’s nice, how comfortable it feels.
Kade pulls out another frame, this one different from the family photos we’ve been unpacking. It’s smaller, silver, the glass slightly scratched from years of moves. He turns it over, and I see the exact moment he registers what he’s looking at.
“Oh wow,” he breathes, a smile spreading across his face. “Look at us.”
