Page 45 of Breaking Through

"They're busy debating whether Sarah's conspiracy theories about organized squirrel crime are better than their raccoon stories." His shoulder brushed mine. "Though I think you could win for best wildlife encounters. Maya shared the angry geese incident, but I'm keeping it quiet."

"She's such a traitor."

"Wade." A familiar voice made me turn. Dr. Fieldstone stood there, her silver hair swept up elegantly, but her eyes were the same ones that had watched me desperately try to piece myself together in her office three years ago. "That was quite a speech."

Holden started to step away, but I caught his sleeve. "Stay?" The word came out rougher than intended.

He settled back beside me, warm and solid, while Dr. Fieldstone's gaze tracked the movement with professional interest.

"Looks like you've found something worth fighting for."

"Someone." I was correcting her before I could stop myself. Heat crept up the back of my neck.

Her smile deepened the laugh lines around her eyes. "I noticed. You're a different man than the one who left Chicago three years back. There's light in your eyes again."

"I still have nightmares."

"Of course you do." She gestured toward a quiet corner of the room, and we followed. "But you're not letting them write the whole story anymore, are you?"

I glanced at Holden, who was pretending to study a genuinely awful painting of the old firehouse while listening to every word. "No. I'm learning there might be room for other chapters."

"Good." She touched my arm lightly. "You know what struck me about your speech? You talked about the kids left behind and the wedding plans left wanting, but today, you also included stories about what came after. We got to hear about the trails you've built and the lives you're still touching. That's major progress, Wade."

"It's different now." I struggled to find the right words. "Before, everything struck me like I was only killing time until the guilt would finally smother me and win. But lately..."

"Lately?"

"Lately, I'm starting to think surviving might have been the point all along." My voice dropped in volume. "Maybe I didn't make it out just to punish myself."

Holden's hand found mine, and our fingers wove together for a moment before he stepped away. Dr. Fieldstone watched the gesture with quiet approval.

"You know what I see?" She leaned closer, her voice pitched for privacy. "I see a man who's finally letting himself heal. You aren't merely existing and getting by. You're living. That's what your friends would have wanted for you."

"Jenkins would have loved Blue Harbor. He always talked about teaching his kids to fish."

"See?" Her smile was gentle. "You're remembering them as people now, not merely as losses. That's huge."

A burst of laughter from across the room drew our attention. My old crew had surrounded Holden's phone, probably looking at more wildlife photos. Their joy wasn't disrespectful to the day's solemnity—it was proof that life continued and that healing was possible.

"Speaking of progress, your young man has quite a gift for photography." Dr. Fieldstone's eyes twinkled. "He showed me some of his work while you were talking to the Chief. I particularly liked the one of you emerging from the lake."

I blushed intensely. "That was just..."

"A perfect moment captured." She patted my arm.

Before I could respond, she disappeared into the crowd with the same quietly purposeful energy I remembered from our sessions. Her words lingered, mixing with the day's emotions into something like hope.

Holden joined me again. "You okay?"

I gazed at him—taking a long look—seeing how he'd loosened his tie just enough to breathe and how his hair curled slightly despite his attempts to tame it.

"Yeah. I think I am."

Rodriguez spotted us first, his weathered face breaking into a grin that hadn't changed in three years. "Forrester! Get over hereand explain how you went from fighting fires to dealing with criminal squirrels."

I let him pull me into a bone-crushing hug, something unknotting in my chest when he didn't hesitate to touch me. Some of my old crew had walked on eggshells after the warehouse fire like my scars might be contagious.

"The squirrels are the worst. At least fire follows basic laws of physics."

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