Page 74 of Axe Backwards
But no.
Instead, he sat right next to me and put his arm around my shoulders. I was hit with a wave of warmth from his strong body and the desire to burrow into his chest.
“I meant what I said.” His voice was soft yet urgent. “You are perfect. You are so good at what you do. Your passion is inspiring.”
I clutched my hands in my lap and fixed my focus on them.
“It’s clear by the conviction you possess when you talk about food insecurity that you want to help every single client who walks through that door.”
My chest tightened. “I do.”
“Exactly. Superhero. Don’t let your toxic mother and ex-husband convince you otherwise.”
Tears pricked at the backs of my eyes. This man was so good to me.
“When I came back, it meant escaping them and all the stories I’d told myself over the years. I can be myself in Lovewell.”
“Of course you can. The town loves you for who you really are.”
“I ran away from my life and took the job to help Aunt Lou. I wasn’t sure I’d stick with the food pantry, but it didn’t take long to realize it was my calling. And the more time I spend here, the more I feel like my old self. I wear the clothes I want to wear. I can grow out my hair.”
With a smile, he tugged on the ends of my hair. “I like your ponytails. And you love running the food pantry.”
I really, really did. I didn’t notice it at first. In the beginning, I did it to help Aunt Lou and to keep myself busy. Now? It was a part of me.
“Most days it feels like I’m pushing a rock up a hill. But it gives me purpose and allows me to use my energy for good. The headaches are endless. Handling suppliers and grants and managing clogged sinks and broken freezers and deliveries is exhausting. There are days I dream of going back to the corporate world.”
He sat beside me, his blue eyes darker. The intensity of his stare made my stomach drop.
“Then I’ll send a family home with groceries and know kids are being fed because of my efforts, and it’s all worth it.”
He broke out in a slow smile, those dimples taunting me.
“Good. I’m glad you can acknowledge how amazing you are.”
I snorted. “What about you? Do you miss the fires?”
In an instant, the joy in his expression was gone.
“Honestly?” He took off his hat and ran his hand through his hair. “Yes. I do.” A sharp burst of air left him. “It’s a shitty thing to say. I know that. Fire is terrible. It destroys lives and homes. But when we’d load up to deploy to a fire, the buzz, the focus, would take over. Knowing that even if I didn’t come back, I was doing something good. That my life would be meaningful.”
My stomach plummeted. I’d never left for work wondering if I’d come home alive.
“I miss that version of myself. The man who can home in on what needs to be done rather than the kid with ADHD who didn’t read until third grade. When I’m coordinating a response, I’m sharp, and all the noise disappears. The world gets clear. And I’m good at it. Or at least I was.”
I grasped his hand. “You’re a great dad. And you have so much potential. Yes, your life has changed, but it’s far from over. Trust me. I started over in Lovewell, and I’m better than ever.”
He pulled me close and wrapped his arms around me.
I did the same, putting my head on his shoulder.
“I’m scared,” he said softly. “What if I can’t do it? What if I can’t build a good life for my baby girl or be the dad she needs?”
“It’s okay to be scared.” I held him a little tighter. “But don’t you dare think you’re not enough. You, Noah Hebert, are amazing. And your little girl is lucky to have you.”
He lowered his head, and we stayed like that, supporting one another for a long moment.
“And,” I said, “I’m lucky to have you too.”
