Page 72 of Almost Ours
I groan loudly and drop my head onto the table with a dramaticthud.
“Uggghhhhh,I know!” I say, my voice muffled against the wood. “Why is he like this?! I can’t do this right now, Nina.”
She laughs, reaching over to pat my back. “Oh, sweetheart, yousocan.”
I lift my head just enough to glare at her. “Not helping.”
She just grins and opens her mouth to say something else. My eyes flick past her shoulder and my stomach drops.
Ryan.
He’s coming down the stairs.
My eyes widen in panic, and I shake my head frantically, silently pleading with Nina toshut up, for the love of God.
Her smirk is barely contained as Ryan steps past her, catching my eye with a quick nod before heading for the door.
The second it clicks shut behind him, I exhale a breath and slump back into my chair.
Nina raises an eyebrow. “I really don’t understand why this is such a big deal.”
I rub a hand down my face. “Because it’snotthat simple.”
Nina scoffs. “Sure it is. Ryan’s great,you’regreat. Just quit toeing around this and get-together already.”
I shake my head. “It’s not that easy, Nina.”
Her teasing expression fades, replaced by something softer. She hesitates for a moment, then asks quietly, “Does this have anything to do with Connor’s dad?”
I freeze.
She watches me carefully. “You got really freaked out when Chief Dawson asked if they should call him.”
My throat tightens. I swallow hard, but it doesn’t help.
Nina doesn’t push. She just reaches for my hand, giving it a small squeeze. “You don’t have to tell me anything,” she says gently. “I just want you to know I’m here. Okay?”
I nod, my fingers tightening around hers for a second before letting go. Then I take a deep breath and gulp down some water, trying to steady myself.
If anyone would understand, it was Nina.
She had been through so much–raising Liam practically on her own, dealing with everything her sister put her through. She knew what it was like to carry more weight than she should have, to put someone else’s needs ahead of her own. She would never judge me.
She had opened up to me in a way she rarely did the other night, letting me see the weight she carried every day. If she trusted me with her story, then I owed her the same.
I met her eyes, my heart pounding in my chest. And then, I told her.
I told her about Reid–not the polished version I used to show the world, but the real one. I told her how the man I thought I loved had slowly chipped away at me, piece by piece. How the charm that once made me fall for him turned into a weapon he used to control me.
I told her about the subtle manipulation at first–cutting remarks disguised as jokes, the way he isolated me from friends and family, making me feel like I had no one except for him. Then how it escalated into shouting, threats, and finally the moments I try not to relive–the ones where his anger left bruises.
I explained how, for so long, I convinced myself to stay for Connor’s sake. Told myself that Reid would change, that it wasn’t always like this. Until one day, I looked at Connor and realized that staying wasn’t protecting him–it was teaching him.Teaching him that love looked like control. That silence meant safety. That fear was normal. And I couldn’t let that happen.
So I told Nina about the night I left. About the fear and the relief that hit me in equal measure as I packed a bag, took Connor, and walked out the door without looking back.
She didn’t interrupt, didn’t ask questions. She just listened, her hand gripping mine tightly as the words poured out.
By the time I finished, my throat felt raw, and my chest felt lighter but still tender, like I’d torn off a bandage too soon. Nina’s eyes shimmered with unshed tears as she pulled me into a hug, her embrace fierce and unwavering.
