Page 81 of Run Omega Run
The innocent wisdom in her statement made something warm bloom in my chest despite the ongoing ache of loss. She was creating her own framework for understanding absence and presence, building bridges between grief and hope that would serve her well throughout whatever challenges lay ahead.
As dusk painted the sky in shades of purple that would have made Mom smile, we remained on the porch steps, three members of a chosen family processing loss and love in the patient way that healing required.
The bunny, pressed between us like a bridge connecting past comfort to present safety, seemed to nod with approval as twilight settled over our chosen family's continuing story.
Chapter 36
Heather
Three Months Later
The morning air bit at my exposed skin like tiny needles, each breath forming small clouds that dissipated before I could accurately observe their shape. Mist clung to the mansion's grounds in gossamer threads that softened the edges of everything. The garden where we'd honored Mom and planted her ashes beneath a beautiful weeping willow tree, the oak trees that had witnessed our family's expansion, the security gates that Angus had installed just in case. My hands felt clammy inside my running gloves, palms slick with nervous moisture that had nothing to do with the cool temperature and everything to do with the butterflies performing acrobatics in my stomach.
The streets beyond our gates stretched clean and debris-free in ways that would have seemed impossible just months ago. Bennett had hired entire construction crews to hasten Shaker City's recovery. Broken concrete had been hauled away and replaced with smooth asphalt; fallen power lines had been buried underground. Damaged storefronts now showed fresh paint and intact windows that caught the early light, like the promise of better days.
I flexed my fingers inside the gloves, trying to work feeling back into digits that seemed determined to remain numb with anticipation. My heart performed its own marathon inside my chest, rhythm stuttering between excitement and apprehension in ways that made my breath catch unexpectedly. This was it... the marathon I'd been preparing for since before our world had burned down and been rebuilt stronger.
Dante appeared beside me, his marshmallow scent carrying undertones of pride and worry in equal measure. His large hands settled on my shoulders with a gentle touch, calming my scattered thoughts and grounding me in the present moment rather than the anxious projections of what might happen once the starting gun fired.
"You can do this," he said. "For her. For your mom, and all the moms out there who were lost before they should have been."
The words hit something deep in my chest, transforming my nervous energy into something more purposeful and determined. His hands tightened slightly on my shoulders, but before I could respond, Angus appeared with characteristic Highland enthusiasm, his massive arms scooping me off the ground and spinning me in circles that made the misty morning blur into streaks of gray and gold. Laughter erupted from my chest despite the nerves, his chocolate scent wrapping around me like comfort food as his centrifugal force temporarily banished anxiety in favor of pure joy.
"Angus!" Cole's voice carried a sharp disapproval. "You'll make her dizzy before the race!"
I found my footing as Angus set me down, grinning at Cole with satisfaction that came with making me laugh. "It's a marathon, not a race," I corrected automatically, though my smile took any sting out of the clarification.
Cole rolled his eyes but the smirk that accompanied the gesture revealed fondness that had grown considerably over the months we'd been together. The clinical reserve that had initially characterized his interactions with me had dissolved into something warmer, more openly affectionate.
"Do you have your protein bars?" he asked, hands already moving to check my gear with methodical thoroughness. "Water bottle? Electrolyte supplements?"
I patted the pocket in my running shorts, feeling the reassuring bulk of energy bars that he'd personally selected based on nutritional analysis and digestibility studies. "All here," I assured him, touched by care that extended to every detail of my race preparation. "Don't worry about me, I've got this handled."
"Make sure you're properly warmed up," he continued, ignoring my reassurance in favor of completing his mental checklist of potential medical complications. "Your muscles need adequate preparation to prevent injury, especially in this cool weather."
"Cole," I said gently, reaching out to touch his arm in ways that conveyed affection alongside mild exasperation. "I know how to prepare for a run. I promise my muscles will be ready." He smiled and nodded, kissing me on my forehead.
Bennett's voice cut through our exchange. "Yes, you bloody well do have this handled!" His peppermint scent carried conviction that made arguing impossible, pride radiating from him in waves I could feel warming my chest. "I've been running with you for months now, and every single time, you push harder and faster than the time before. If anyone can win this, it's you."
The absolute certainty in his voice sent a different kind of flutter through my stomach, this one warm and strengthening rather than anxious. Our training runs had become more than physical preparation; they'd been opportunities for connection,for testing each other's limits and discovering reserves of strength that neither of us had known existed.
Susie appeared from somewhere behind the group, her wild red hair tamed into a practical braid. "What are you going to do with the money if you win?" she asked directly, cutting straight to questions that adults preferred to approach slowly.
The question made me pause, hands stilling in their nervous adjustments of my gear. Months ago, the prize money had represented salvation, resources that could keep the orphanage running and provide security for children who'd already lost too much. But our circumstances had changed dramatically, abundance replacing scarcity in ways that still felt surreal.
