Page 65 of The Bear's Second Chance Mate
June’s stomach dropped as if she’d missed a step in the dark. “Oli, sweetheart…”
“You said we’re leaving,” he interrupted, voice pitched and raw. “But…what about Herbert? And Stanley? I don’t want to go.”
She moved quickly, gathering him into her arms, but she could feel the damage already done. His small body, which had finally begun to relax in Bear Creek, went rigid against her. Silent tears soaked into her collar as he buried his face in her neck. He wouldn’t meet her eyes. He’d retreated into himself as a way of protecting himself.
And she was doing the exact same thing.
“We don’t have to decide right now,” June whispered into his hair, though she knew the clinic needed an answer by Friday.Three days. Seventy-two hours to choose between the career she’d built and the life they were just beginning to find.
Oli’s fingers twisted in her shirt, holding on as if she might disappear. “Herbert will be sad. And Stanley, too.”
June closed her eyes against the sting of tears. The connection Oli had fought so hard to make—with Stanley, with Herbert, with Bear Creek itself—was slipping through his fingers. And she was the one pulling the thread.
“Let’s talk about it tomorrow,” she murmured. “Do you want to sit at the table and draw while I cook dinner?”
Oli shook his head, shrinking away from her outstretched hand. “No. I don’t want to talk about it tomorrow.” His voice cracked as he clutched his sketchbook tighter to his chest. “I don’t want to leave. Ever.”
Before June could respond, he turned and fled the kitchen, his small feet pattering across the hardwood floor. The sound of his retreat felt like a door slamming shut in her chest.
She slumped back into her chair, the weight of his pain settling on her shoulders. What had she done? She’d promised him stability, a place to feel safe, and now she was considering uprooting him again. For what? A job title? A paycheck?
Barb rose from her seat and came around the table. Her arms encircled June in a warm, firm embrace that smelled of chamomile tea and the lavender hand cream she always used.
“You have to do what feels right for you and Oli,” Barb said, her voice gentler than June had ever heard it. “This is not a decision that should be made by overwrought emotions. Give yourself some time to think about it. You know Stanley will go with you, and the rabbit, too. They do have gardens in Fairhaven big enough for hutches.”
June nodded against her aunt’s shoulder, tears welling up. “I’d miss you, too.”
Barb sniffed loudly and pulled away, blinking rapidly. “You might have to take me, too.”
June laughed despite herself, wiping at her eyes. “I’d like that.”
“I don’t think your mate would,” Barb chuckled, her mouth quirking into that familiar half-smile.
“I think you would learn to get along,” June said, feeling the smallest spark of lightness return to her chest.
Barb squeezed her shoulder. “Yes, for you and your boy, we would move mountains.” Her eyes softened as she glanced toward the doorway Oli had disappeared through. “I’ll cook dinner. You go and talk to your boy.”
“Are you sure?” June asked, already half-rising from her chair.
Barb nodded firmly. “He needs you.”
June’s footsteps felt heavy as she climbed the stairs. What could she possibly say to make this better? The landing creaked beneath her weight as she approached Oli’s bedroom door, which stood slightly ajar. She pushed it open gently.
“Oli?” she called softly.
The room was empty. His bed was still neatly made, his stuffed animals arranged in their usual positions. The dinosaur nightlight cast long shadows across the floor, but there was no sign of her son.
A flutter of panic stirred in her chest. She checked the bathroom next—empty. The door to her bedroom stood open, the space undisturbed. She even peered into Barb’s room, though Oli never ventured in there unless Barb was in there.
The panic began to rise, climbing up her throat like bile. She swallowed it down, telling herself he was probably in the living room with his sketch pad. That had to be it.
She hurried back downstairs, calling his name. “Oli? Oli, where are you, sweetheart?”
Silence answered her. The living room was dark and empty.
June rushed back to the kitchen, her heart hammering against her ribs. “Barb, Oli’s gone.”
Barb’s face paled as she set down the wooden spoon she’d been holding. “What do you mean, gone?”
