Page 24 of Your Second Chance
Mum let out a bark of laughter, and Dad chuckled, raising his glass. “That’s our boy.”
I groaned, leaning back in my chair. “I can’t believe I brought you here.”
Nova smiled, that teasing glint in her eye still firmly in place. “You really have no one to blame but yourself, Ollie.”
9
nova
Being with Ollie’s family, I realized how much I missed my mom. I missed Aunt Mae. I missed the three of us together. This feeling—the camaraderie, the warmth—was what I’d been missing. Being here filled that hollow part of me, even if for a little while.
There was so much warmth in the room. The kind that didn’t come from the fire or the afternoon sun, but from the laughter, the easy conversation, and the shared stories.
We’d spent the entire afternoon laughing. Ollie’s mum had dug out his secondary school yearbooks, flipping through the pages with pride as I doubled over at his awkward teenage photos. His dad joined in, pulling out old newspaper clippings from when Ollie had played rugby, recounting stories of his glory days on the pitch.
Ollie groaned, rubbing his temples. “Why do you keep all this stuff? Honestly, it’s like you’re waiting for moments like this.”
“Of course we are,” his mum said with a mischievous grin. “You’re our only son. We’ve been waiting years for this.”
“This is annoying,” Ollie muttered.
Underneath the table, he set his hand on my thigh, squeezing gently. My gaze shot up to meet his, startled, but the look in hiseyes wasn’t teasing or cocky. It was searching, like he needed reassurance.
I nodded quickly, the warmth of his palm seeping through the fabric of my jeans. I liked it here. I was comfortable.
His mum was in the middle of recounting some story from when Ollie was a kid, her eyes gleaming with delight. Just as she was about to reach the truly embarrassing part, Ollie straightened and cut her off.
“Okay, that’s quite enough.”
His hand stayed on my thigh. I didn’t push it away. I let it stay for a moment.
When he finally stood, his hand slid away, only to reach down for mine.
Grab it,I thought to myself.Grab his hand and let him take you.
I hesitated. Shaking my head, I got up on my own, leaving his hand lingering in the space between us. Relying on someone would mean opening that fragile, guarded part of my heart. I wasn’t ready for that. Not when, in a few weeks, my belly would start to grow rounder, and he’d realize I was carrying my alcoholic ex-husband’s baby.
“I’m taking Nova on a walk,” Ollie announced, his tone light but pointed, cutting through the moment.
“Finally,” I murmured, low enough that only he could hear.
He smirked, that annoyingly charming smirk, and this time, when he reached for my hand, I let him take it.
As we headed for the door, I paused long enough to hug his parents, promising I’d say goodbye properly before we left.
Ollie led me outside, and we walked down the block, the quiet streets of the countryside wrapping around us like a comforting blanket. The air was cool, the leaves crunching beneath our feet.
“Sorry about that,” he murmured, gesturing to the house behind us.
“I enjoyed it,” I said earnestly.
“You okay, though? I know your mum passed...”
“I haven’t enjoyed a good family home in a long time, so that was nice.” I shuffled my boots along the cracked cement.
“You cold? Think your roommate packed you a sweater.”
I shook my head.
