“There’s one more thing,” I say, and my voice lowers, cautious. “Last night… he asked if no one had told me anything about him. I didn’t understand what he meant. But it felt… loaded.”
The women exchange glances, silent and thick with meaning.
“What?” I ask, my chest tightening. “What is it?”
Rachel speaks carefully. “It’s not really our story to tell, Kate.”
“But we can tell you this much,” Emily adds gently. “He lost someone. Someone he loved a long time ago. And it wrecked him.”
Was that what he meant by a life he almost had?
I swallow the lump in my throat. “Like… a partner?”
Ava nods. “Yeah. And maybe more than that. It’s why he holds back. The reason he doesn’t let people in. You’re not doing anything wrong. He’s still scarred from something you can’t see.”
I stare down at my hands, my nails pressing crescent moons into my palm. My heart aches—not just for myself, but for him. For the man who holds me like he means it and disappears like he doesn’t.
Rachel reaches for my hand again. “You don’t have to fix him, Kate. But if you care about him… maybe don’t walk away just yet. Give him a chance to open the door himself.”
I nod, slow and unsure, as a breeze sweeps over the field and the faint cheer of kids playing filters through the air.
But deep inside, the ache doesn’t lessen.
If he doesn’t open that door soon... I know I’ll have to walk away.
Even if I don’t want to.
Margaret’s voice floats over just as I manage to draw a full breath again.
“Brought my famous blueberry muffins,” she calls out with that warm, singsong tone of hers, holding up a tin covered with a floral kitchen towel. “Thought I’d share with the prettiest bunch of women on this side of the field.”
She’s smiling wide as she approaches, cheeks flushed from the sun, her fire department polo tucked neatly into her jeans. The scent of vanilla and warm sugar follows her like a comfort blanket, and it makes me smile.
She sets the tin down on the bleacher bench between us and leans in with a teasing smile. “Your boys look happy out there.”
My heart stumbles.
My boys?
I glance automatically toward the field, and just like that—there they are.
Noah is crouched low on one knee, catching Parker mid-run as if it’s the most natural thing in the world. Parker’s arms are flung around his neck in a full-bodied hug, his little legs off the ground. And Noah… he’s smiling.
Smiling like he's found something he never thought he'd have again.
My heart stutters. My chest tightens, and something hot presses behind my eyes.
I try to laugh it off, pushing the feeling down so deep I barely recognize it. “They do make quite the pair,” I murmur, reachingfor a muffin I’m not hungry for just to have something in my hands.
Emily arches a brow at me. “You know people are already saying it.”
I glance at her, confused. “Saying what?”
“That you, Parker, and Noah…” She lifts a shoulder in a delicate shrug, lips tugging upward. “Look like a family in the making.”
My mouth opens, then closes again. A flutter kicks up, and I don’t want to name it.
But the moment barely gets time to settle before it’s ripped apart by a voice that curls around me like smoke.