Page 40 of Home Changes
“I want to be someone who’s healthy, you know? Not just for someone else.For me.” She hesitated, her fingers tightening as she clasped her hands together. “But if I’m ever in something real again …” She swallowed, heart pounding, “I want it to be built on truth. Not fear. Not habit. I guess that’s why I’m telling you all of this. Because to me, this is real.”
Seth looked at her, really looked. There was weight in his eyes. Not pity. Understanding. Like he knew what it meant to want to get it right this time, even when everything inside you was afraid to try.
“I think this is real,” he said. “I’m not smart enough to have all the answers, but I’ll be one hundred percent honest with you, always.”
The words settled between them like the promise it was meant to be. The space on the porch felt warmer somehow. Safer.
Allison smiled, not because she had the answers but because, maybe, she didn’t need to.
She shifted again, leaning her shoulder lightly onthe back of the swing. The wood was warm against her back. She didn’t press him. Didn’t fill the silence. She let it settle, let it breathe.
Seth finally spoke, his voice low and rough. “I was married once.”
Allison turned her head toward him, surprised. “You were?”
“Yeah. For about six months. Well, I lived with her for six months. The divorce took over a year. We were both handlers for military working dogs. Met in training, got together fast. It was one of those whirlwind things that felt right in the middle of all the chaos.” He grabbed his cup from the rail and ran a finger around the rim. “She cheated. Repeatedly. We worked different shifts, and I was the last one to figure it out, which probably says something about my intelligence.”
Allison didn’t say anything. He needed the space to let it out, just like she had earlier.
“I think I held onto her because we understood the job. Because she was familiar when nothing else was. But she didn’t respect me or us. Didn’t care the way I thought she did.”
He looked over at her, jaw tight. “That wrecked a lot of things inside me. Trust. Pride. Man, both of those took massive hits.” He gave a short, bitterlaugh. “I spent the next twenty years alone. I dated, but nothing serious. Then I retired and came back stateside. Two months later, my dad started slipping …” He trailed off, staring into the darkness.
“You came home,” Allison said softly.
“Yeah. He was confused when I got back. He was growly and mean. God forbid anyone know Chester Hansen couldn’t handle his life.”
“Was he always like that?”
“Proud? Stubborn as hell?” Seth gave a small nod. “Yeah. He wasn’t a bad dad, not exactly. Just … hard. Distance was his way of loving people. And silence was his version of showing you he trusted you. If he didn’t have to bark at you, you were golden.”
Allison sensed the ache in his voice wasn’t sharp or bitter. He just seemed tired and worn down.
“I resented him for a long time,” he said. “Still do, sometimes. But now? Watching him slip … It’s like the worst parts of our history don’t even matter anymore. I keep the best morsels of our time together in here.” He touched his chest, over his heart. “I just want to keep him safe. Give him some dignity.”
When he looked out at the land again, Allison followed his gaze. The fields stretched quiet and silver in the moonlight.
Seth continued, “So, yeah. Married and divorced when I was barely able to drink legally. A decorated career handling and training dogs. And now, back in my hometown, I care for a man who never once said, ‘I need help,’ until a couple of days ago.” His laugh was low, rueful. “So, we can both attest to having a bumpy road. Good thing we know where the ruts are now.”
Allison reached over and brushed her fingers against his. It wasn’t a grab. Just a touch. Gentle. Steady. And she wasn’t afraid to make the move, which was pure heaven. Her inner demons seemed to vanish around Seth. “You don’t have to drive that route all alone,” she whispered. “Whatever this is, and whatever the ending, I’m here for you. You don’t have to do this alone.”
Seth’s eyes met hers, quiet and searching. Something settled there in his eyes, something that looked a lot like hope. “Yeah,” he said. “I think I’m starting to believe that.”
He leaned in.
The kiss wasn’t hesitant. It wasn’t rushed either. Just a slow, claiming brush of lips that deepened as the silence wrapped around them. Her hand slid to his jaw. His arm curled around her waist.
She ended up in his lap, her body pressed againsthis, the swing groaning under the shift. His hands moved to her hips, his mouth trailing heat against her throat. The air between them grew electric. Breathless.
Desire flared, sharp and white hot and undeniably real.
Allison’s breath hitched as Seth’s mouth returned to hers, more insistent this time, less careful. His hands slid under her shirt, rough palms against the curve of her waist, anchoring her to him. Her heart beat so hard she felt it in her throat and heard it in her ears.
“This isn’t slow,” he murmured against her mouth, his voice low, gravel-edged.
She didn’t pretend to misunderstand. “I know,” she whispered, fingers gripping his shoulders as if to ground herself. “I don’t want to go slow with this. Not right now.”
“Then we’ll go slow later.”
