Page 48 of Wynter's Second Chance

The idea of losing Wynter was unbearable. He was the first man who made me believe that I could actually be happy again, after all these years of being alone.

But if anything happened to Rory—if I lost him—my heart would break in ways I couldn’t even imagine.

Where were they?

I looked down at my phone again, and then I heard it—the soft thud of footsteps outside the door. My heart leaped in my chest, a flood of relief washing over me as I rushed to the door, throwing it open without thinking.

“Rory!” I practically yanked him into my arms, holding him close, as though the world would fall apart if I didn’t. His skin was cold, his cheeks flushed, but otherwise, he seemed… okay.

He wriggled in my arms, trying to pull away, embarrassed by my display of affection, but I couldn’t stop myself. I kissed the top of his head, the side of his face, his hair, as if my touch could somehow erase the fear and worry I’d been carrying.

“I’m all right, Dad.” His voice was small, almost shy, like he was bracing for my anger.

“Oh, Rory.” I squeezed him tighter, the tension in my chest easing just a little. “Rory, Rory.” My eyes stung, but I held back the tears. I couldn’t scare him. Not now.

He stared up at me, dark brown eyes filled with guilt, his lips trembling. “I’m sorry I hurt you.”

“Don’t apologize,” I whispered, brushing my fingers down his arms, still not quite believing he was standing here in front of me, safe and sound. “You’re back. That’s all that matters right now.”

I could still feel the cold in his skin, the tension in his body, but something in me softened. He was here, and that was the only thing I cared about for now.

Then, my gaze drifted over to Wynter, who was still standing on the threshold, looking as worried as I felt. Rory gave his hand a small tug, pulling him into the house.

“Let’s go in,” I said, stepping back to let them both inside. My heart was still pounding in my chest, but I was trying to stay calm. “We’ll talk in the kitchen.”

We moved to the kitchen, everyone sitting around the table. I could feel the weight of the silence, the tension hanging in the air, and I wasn’t sure how to break it.

I had no idea how to handle this. Years of parenthood hadn’t prepared me for a moment like this. What was I supposed to say to my son who had done something so dangerous, even with the best of intentions?

“I’m making hot chocolate,” I muttered, needing to do something to keep my hands busy. If I didn’t, I was afraid I’d lose control of the emotions swirling inside me—anger, fear, relief.

Rory shifted in his seat. “I thought maybe I could… help with dinner later,” he said softly, the words filled with guilt, but he didn’t meet my eyes. He kept staring down at the table, his fingers tracing the wood.

I shook my head, swallowing hard. “We’ll talk about dinner in a minute. First, tell me what happened. Why did you go to the bank?” I needed to understand.

Rory shifted again, his shoulders stiff. “I thought I could get the money to help you, Dad.” His voice was small, almost apologetic. “I didn’t mean to… I didn’t mean for it to go like this.”

I finished pouring the hot chocolate into three mugs and placed them on the table, my hands trembling slightly. “That was so… so thoughtful of you, Rory,” I said, my voice breaking a little. “But you’ve got to understand, you can’t put yourself in that kind of danger. Do you know how scared I was?”

Rory bit his lip, his eyes flickering between me and Wynter. “Wynter said I shaved five years off his life. How many years did I shave off yours?”

I glanced over at Wynter, a small smirk pulling at my lips despite the situation. “I think you shaved ten off mine.”

Rory let out a small laugh, but it was tight. “That many?”

“Yep.” I reached for the mugs, handing one to each of them. “So, what do I get for that?”

Rory leaned back in his chair, looking defeated, then glanced up at me, his lips pouting. “A month grounded?”

I nodded. “That’s right, a month.”

He sighed, shaking his head. “Well, I guess I’ll start right away.” He stood and wrapped his arms around me. “I’m sorry, Dad. I thought I could do it. I thought I could come back before you found out I was gone.”

“That’s…” I took a deep breath, my fingers brushing the back of his head. “Promise me, Rory. No more sneaking off like this. Ever.”

“I already promised Wynter,” he said, his voice quiet but sincere. “But sure, I’ll promise you too.”

I kissed the top of his head. “Good. And if you want to make it up to me, you can come down later and set the table.”

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