Page 39 of The One Who Changed Everything

The glow from the television painted his face in shades of blue and gold, highlighting the creases etched around his eyes—lines that spoke of smiles now rare and frowns all too common. In the shifting light, I saw a glimmer of the boy I remembered, the one who laughed easily and dreamed boldly before life demanded a sacrifice he was never prepared to give.

"Sometimes," I said, my voice barely above a whisper, "the hardest person to forgive is yourself."

Evan let out a breath, long and slow, his eyes locked on the screen but clearly not seeing it. The weight of his pain was almost tangible, stretching between us like a thread frayed thin with time.

Between us, Sophia stirred, nestling deeper into the couch cushions, her tiny hand curling instinctively around the fabric of Evan’s sleeve. He glanced down at her, his features softening in a way that made something shift inside me.

“She trusts you,” I murmured, my voice barely louder than the hum of the television. “She’s comfortable with you.”

His fingers twitched, but he didn’t pull away from her grasp. “I don’t know if I deserve that.”

The honesty in his voice wrapped around me, tugging me closer in a way I hadn’t expected. This man—this strong, steady firefighter who had walked back into our lives—was still carrying so much guilt. But I saw the way he looked at Sophia, the way he showed up for her, the way he tried. Maybe it wasn’t about deserving. Maybe it was about being willing.

And Evan was willing.

That scared me.

For so long, it had been just Sophia and me. I’d built our life on the certainty that no one else would swoop in and change things. I’d been both her safety net and her only constant. But now, here he was, showing up in ways I hadn’t let myself believe he ever would.

The weight of his presence wasn’t just in the room—it was in my heart, pressing against every wall I’d put up.

I cleared my throat and glanced down at Sophia, her small fingers still curled loosely around Evan’s sleeve. She trusted him, but more than that—she already cared about him. The thought sent a sharp pang through me.

If she got attached and he left…

No. I couldn’t go there.

Evan shifted beside me, his arm resting along the back of the couch. Not quite touching me, but close enough that the warmth of him sent an awareness prickling across my skin. I tried to ignore it, tried to focus on the movie, on Sophia, on anything but the man beside me.

“She’s amazing, you know,” he murmured.

I turned my head slightly, just enough to see the adoring look in his eyes as he watched our daughter sleep.

“I know,” I said, my voice quieter than I meant for it to be.

He exhaled, his fingers flexing where they rested against the couch. “I hate that I missed so much. I don’t know how to make up for it.”

I hesitated, searching for the right words. “You can’t get back the years we lost, Evan. But you can be here now.”

His gaze lifted to mine, searching, questioning. I could see the self-doubt, the hesitation that had nothing to do with whether or not he wanted to be here, but whether or not I’d let him.

I swallowed, knowing I had to take the hit to my own pride to reassure him. “And so far… you’re doing great.”

Something shifted in his expression.

And for the first time since he walked back into our lives, I realized that maybe I wasn’t just afraid of him leaving.

Maybe I was afraid of what it would mean if he stayed.

CHAPTER 17

Evan

The chief was mid-sentence about the new fire engine we were considering when my phone buzzed in my pocket. I slipped it out enough to see Sam’s name on the screen. "Sorry, Chief, I've got to take this," I said, already thumbing the screen to life.

"Hey, Sam, what’s up?" I stepped away from the chief’s desk, the background noise of the firehouse fading as I focused on the silence on the other end of the line.

"Hey… I—" A sigh. Then nothing.

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