Page 92 of When We Are Complete

The ornate archway, once the crown of the site, lies strewn across the snow, broken into shards and half-buried beneath drifts. The sight of it all, this scene of ruin, could have sent Kelly reeling not so long ago. But as we stand there, she just stares at it with a calm acceptance.

I turn to her, ready to hold space or comfort her, give her what she needs. “How are you doing?”

She doesn’t pull her gaze from the wreckage but squeezes my hand—twice—her fingers so soft in mine. “I’m okay.” Dark strands of her hair curl around her face, and there’s a kind of peace in her expression. “I know it’s going to be okay. Really.”

Her eyes meet mine, clear and unburdened in a way I haven’t seen before, and I find myself lost in the quiet strength there. And for the first time, I realize that she doesn’t need saving—she never needed it—she just needed to find her way, with me right here beside her.

We climb into the truck—we’ll come back later and pick up her car—the heater coming to life as we pull out onto the snow-covered road, driving through the streets of Harbor’s Edge in silence, each of us taking in the scenes of destruction all around.

Tree branches lie scattered, their limbs blocking roads. A couple of power lines have gone down, and lamp posts and fences lay flat, buried under piles of snow. The storm has left its mark on everything. As I drive, her hand stays firmly in mine, and I’m holding the weight of something beautiful and breakable and fierce all at once, someone that’s weathered the storm and come out whole.

Kelly watches out the window, her gaze thoughtful. “I think I want to help out with the recovery. Volunteer with the Valiant Hearts. It’s something real I can put my energy into, something that means something.”

I glance over at her. “We could use someone like you.”

She looks over at me, her eyes bright and resolute. And for a moment, everything around us—the broken branches, the icy streets, the battered buildings—fades away. It’s just us, driving forward, ready to face whatever comes next, side by side.

I pull up outside Kelly and Nora’s place, watching her silhouette disappear through the doorway as she runs in to get changed. I wait in the truck, tapping my fingers on the steering wheel, this thing inside me that’s part excitement, part disbelief.And then, when she steps back outside, I lose my breath all over again.

Her face is fresh, free of all the weight she’s been carrying lately, and her hair catches the morning light and keeps it. She looks up at me, eyes bright, and for a second, I’m transported back to another time, another place.

It’s our first date, when Kelly was fifteen years old and the most beautiful thing I’d ever seen. I was sixteen, and meeting her on the boardwalk after school. She had her hair down, flicking around her shoulders in the summer breeze, and she laughed at the bad jokes I made as though she didn’t have a single care in the world.

Back then, I was a mess of nerves, trying to play it cool. We wandered down to the jetty, ice cream cones in hand, the sun making everything golden. She’d looked out over the water, and just sitting beside this girl with so much energy and drive, it was like seeing the world through her eyes—how big everything looked, how much possibility was out there. When I finally took her hand, soft, small and strong, it felt so right.

There, on the jetty, sea spray misting around us, I’d fallen for her. I’d fallen hard, with a girl who looked at me like I wasn’t some kid trying to show the world just how solid and dependable I could be. She was strong-willed, had this light that shone out of her, and I felt lucky just to be there with her.

Now, she’s walking back to the truck through the snow, still that same girl, and yetmore. This thing between us, it’s old and new, a full circle of the best kind.

When she climbs into the truck, I reach for her hand again with that same rush I had that day on the jetty, that same nervous thrill.

She squeezes back, once, twice, and the years slip away.

As we drive through the snow toward the high school, where the other Valiant Hearts are gathering, there’s a strange senseof time folding in on itself. The years between us, the choices we made, the storms we weathered—they all blend together, each moment part of something bigger I’m only beginning to understand.

Holding her hand, there’s the weight of time and love, of loss and forgiveness, all woven into this moment.

Life is less about starting over and more about recognizing when you’ve come full circle. Here we are, in the same place but not the same people, finding each other again after the storm.

Chapter 54

Kelly

I sitat my desk in my bedroom, looking out at the snow-covered landscape outside as the sun starts to set. It’s been a week since the big storms, and some of the snow is turning to slush, the pure white tarnished with patches of brown and gray.

People are back in their homes and power has been restored, and my laptop screen glows brightly against the dimming light outside. I take a deep breath, steadying myself as I click to join the virtual session. Dr. Bennett’s familiar face appears, framed by the calm, neutral tones of her office. She greets me with a warmth that softens the nerves in my chest.

“Hi, Kelly. I’m glad you reached out and organized this session. Why don’t you tell me a little about what’s been going on.”

I hesitate, fingers twisting together in my lap before reaching out and straightening the pens and notepad beside my computer, lining everything up neatly. For years, I’ve danced around the truth with her, giving just enough to make progressbut never enough to be exposed. But now I’m done with half-truths.

“Dr. Bennett, I—” I pause, my heart pounding harder than it should. “I think I need to be more honest. Completely honest.”

Her eyes soften, and her voice is gentle. “I’m here for whatever you want to share. No judgment.”

I exhale slowly, weighing the words before they even leave my lips. “It’s my eating disorder. It’s slipping back into my life.” I say it quietly, the words heavy, unfamiliar on my tongue. “I’ve been in denial for a while, but the food rules, restricting and not eating, it’s all come back, especially when I’m stressed.”

The screen is silent for a moment, her steady gaze holding mine. I look away, my fingers fidgeting. “And it’s not just that,” I add. “My anxiety’s been creeping in too. Ever since Mom died. The intrusive thoughts—I can’t seem to turn them off. And it scares me, Dr. Bennett. I’m afraid I’m falling back into the same place I was years ago and I don’t want to go there. I want to be honest about what I’m going through so you can help me.”

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