Page 63 of Almost Ours
I crawled back into bed beside him, tucking myself around his small frame, my lips brushing the top of his head.
Nina showedup at the hospital mid-morning, looking like she’d barely slept. She had a coffee in one hand and a bag in the other–probably muffins or something equally comforting.
“Liam wanted to come, but I left him with Jaxxon,” she said, setting the coffee down beside my untouched one from earlier. “Figured it’d be easier that way.”
“Thanks,” I murmured, giving her a tired smile.
Connor was already on his feet, eager to go. He was still pale, though his energy had returned, and he was full of it–eyes shining with the kind of determination that told me he was more than ready to put this behind him.
As I stuffed the last of his things into his bag, there was a knock at the door.
“Mrs. Bishop?”
I turned, my stomach already tightening. Chief Dawson stood there, one hand braced casually against the door, his eyes scanning the room like he owned it.
I stiffened, bracing for the lecture. For thehow could you let your kid on unsafe icespiel.
Instead, he gave me a slow, assessing nod. “Heard about the little mishap down at the pond. Figured I should come check in. See how you’re holding up.”
The way he said it–like he was humouring me–made my grip on Connor’s bag tighten. “We’re… fine. Thank you. Nina’s taking us home.”
He leaned a little on the doorframe, his gaze lingering just long enough to make my skin crawl. “Good. We don’t want a repeat of last night. Some folks just… don’t have the experience to judge ice properly.” His tone wasn’t angry–worse. It was patronizing. Like I was a kid who’d been caught doing something stupid.
I swallowed hard, heat creeping up my neck, Connor tugged absently at his hoodie strings, oblivious to the tension in the room.
Beside me, Nina shifted, her arms crossing as she opened her mouth. “Alright, listen–”
“By the way,” Dawson cut in, his voice smooth. “Should we be contacting Connor’s father? Seems like something he ought to know.”
The words landed like a punch to the ribs. My breath hitched. I could feel myself shrinking, shoulders curling in like I could make myself smaller.
Nina’s head snapped toward him fully now, her voice sharp. “That’s not your business, Dawson.”
He smirked faintly, eyes still on me. “Just asking. Figured a kid’s father might want to know when his son nearly drowns.”
Nina took a deliberate step forward, putting herself between us. “You figured wrong. Harper said she’s fine. Connor’s fine. End of story.”
The chief held her gaze for a moment before straightening from the doorframe. “Alright then.”
When he finally walked off, I exhaled, realizing I’d been holding my breath the entire time.
Connor’s voice cut through the tension like a knife. “Can wepleasego home now?”
I forced a smile and ran a hand through his curls, my fingers lingering there for a moment. I knew my smile didn’t reach my eyes, but for him, it had to be enough. “Yeah, bud. Let’s go home.”
As I spoke, something inside me shifted–a quiet realization that I hadn’t fully let myself feel until now. Despite the fear, the chaos, and the uncertainty, I was still standing. I was still here, still holding my son close, still moving forward.
I thought of Ryan, of Nina and Shane, of everyone who had been there for us. They had given me more strength than I realized. I wasn’t alone in this. Not anymore anyway.
And just like that, we walked out of the hospital–together.
There was a weight to my steps, but it was lighter than it had been. A weight that had been replaced with something stronger–something I hadn’t known I had in me until now.
I stand in my kitchen,phone in hand, staring at Harper’s contact like it might tell me what to do. Do I text? Call? Just show up?
It’s ridiculous, how long I’ve been standing here, overthinking it.
How could I not?
