Page 64 of Almost Ours
What was starting out as a solid friendship–easy conversation, shared laughs–has quietly turned into something else. Somewhere along the way, she stopped being just Connor’s mom to me.
And after yesterday… it’s like a switch flipped.
The idea of not seeing them–both of them–feels wrong. Like I’m missing something I need.
I tell myself it’s just about checking in, making sure Connor’s okay. Making sure Harper’s okay. But the truth is, I want to see her. I need to see her.
Yesterday was the worst day of my life.
I didn’t know I could feel that kind of terror.
I close my eyes, and it’s all still there–the cracking ice, the darkness below, the shock of cold in my lungs. The way my heart stopped when I saw that flash of fire-red beneath the surface.
For those agonizing moments, it felt like we were gone.
If I hadn’t seen Shane’s arm reaching through, if I had been just five seconds slower–
I shake the thought away, pushing my free hand through my hair.
It doesn’t matter now.
We made it out.
Someone was looking out for us, and I’ll be grateful for that for the rest of my life.
But if I had to do it again?
If I had to dive into that freezing black water, claw through the ice, feel my lungs burn and my muscles lock up just to bring Connor back?
There’s no question in my mind.
I’d do it. Every damn time.
I glance back at my phone, exhaling sharply. Screw it.
I grab my keys and head for the door.
The smellof fresh coffee and warm pastries hits me the second I step into the bakery. It’s comforting–familiar–yet it doesn’t quite settle the restlessness in my chest.
I’m here for two things: coffee for Harper and a cookie for Connor. Small things, but things I know they’ll both need.
The place is quiet, only a few customers scattered at tables, and behind the counter, Benny looks likehell. His usually perfectly styled hair is a mess, his eyes rimmed red, and he’s nursing a giant cup of coffee like it’s his last lifeline.
He sees me and lets out a dramatic sigh, throwing a hand over his chest. “Oh, thankGod. I wasn’t sure I’d survive another minute without an update.”
I huff a quiet laugh. “Morning to you too, Benny.”
“Morning? Is it even morning?” He checks his watch, squinting. “Christ. I haven’t slept. Not a wink.”
I raise an eyebrow. “You weren’t the one who went for a swim in a frozen pond.”
Benny waves me off. “Oh please. I’ve beentraumatized. Do you know what it’s like, sitting at home, pacing for hours,worrying?”
“Yes,” I said dryly. “Yes, I do.”
Benny pauses, his dramatics slipping just slightly. “Right,” he mutters. “Guess you do.”
We stand in silence for a second before he clears his throat. “You’re on your way over there now?”
