Page 120 of Your Second Chance
The world around me seemed to fade, the chatter of the parents, the shuffling of feet—it all disappeared.
Everything inside me was shaking. My knees felt weak, my chest felt hollow, and my vision blurred with the sheer weight of what was happening.
This couldn’t be real. It couldn’t be happening.
But it was.
He stood there, taller than I remembered, but thinner. His curly blonde hair was shorter, a little unruly, but still unmistakable. His face had aged, faint lines etched around his eyes and mouth, and yet, when he turned toward Scarlette, the resemblance was undeniable.
Her eyes. The way her curls bounced as she tilted her head to look up at him—it was sofucking obviousthey were related that my stomach churned.
I wanted to vomit. I turned to Luna, my breath coming in shallow gasps. She must have seen the panic on my face because she grabbed my hand, squeezing it firmly.
“We have to get her and go home,” she whispered, her voice steady despite the chaos swirling around us.
I nodded quickly, swallowing down the bile rising in my throat. “Don’t scare her,” I managed, my voice low and strained. “Be happy and let’s go.”
“Process later,” Luna said, her tone leaving no room for debate.
Taking a deep breath, I squared my shoulders and started toward him, every step feeling heavier than the last. My heart pounded in my chest as I forced a smile, praying to whatever higher power existed that he was sober—that this wouldn’t turn into something even worse.
Luna stepped in to grab her first, but the moment he turned around, he whispered, “Nova?”
Ledger, Auburn’s husband, turned around next and then Auburn followed. “Nova?” Ledger asked.
“Mum. I was the conductor.” Scarlette laughed and grabbed my legs.
I looked down at Scarlette and swallowed. I had to keep it together. I would ignore them. I’d grab Scarlette, and maybe they’d seen the stories. The baby was Ollie’s.
Fuck, because she was Ollie’s in every way that mattered.
He was going todiewhen he found out. This was everything he feared, everything we’d worked so hard to avoid, unraveling while he was thousands of miles away in England.
What if he didn’t want to come anymore? What if this—this—was too much? My mind raced, spiraling through every worst-case scenario. How would I even begin to explain this to him? How could I possibly make him understand what I couldn’t even process myself?
The air felt thick, heavy, suffocating. My hands were trembling, and my knees wobbled like they might give out at any moment.
“Stop,” I whispered to myself, clenching my fists, trying to ground myself. I blinked hard, forcing the tears threatening to spill to retreat. I couldn’t spiral.
I sucked in a shaky breath as I tried to steady myself.
“I’m so proud of you, baby. You did so well.” It was all I was able to get out.
“Weird seeing you here, Hart.” Luna grabbed Scarlette’s hand and then looped her free one in mine and gestured at the door. “Merry Christmas.”
She pulled the two of us out of the school, and I grabbed Scarlette as we practically ran to the car.
“Why did we come so fucking late?” I grumbled.
“Language, Mum.” Scarlette reprimanded me, and I put her down because I was worried I’d fall on the ice.
“Sorry, baby. My fault.”
“He looks okay,” Luna whispered as the three of us sprinted toward the car.
Okay meant sober... but for how long? Then the thought of whether or not that made me an asshole fluttered through my head. I looked down at Scarlette, who was complaining that her feet hurt because we walked too far.
“Don’t let this sink you.”
