Chapter 12 Harper
The snow was coming down harder by the time we pulled into my driveway. Everything looked softer, quieter, like the world was holding its breath beneath a thick white blanket. My car sat buried beneath it, practically invisible.
“I guess you’re not driving this anywhere tonight,” Ryan said, nodding toward it with a smirk.
I sighed, watching my breath fog up the window. “Looks like it. I’ll have to dig it out in the morning.”
“I can give you a lift to Nina’s,” Ryan offered, nodding toward the passenger door.
I raised an eyebrow. “You moonlight as a chauffeur now?”
He smirked. “Only for VIPs. And kids who need their toothbrushes.”
That earned a quiet laugh from me. “Alright, alright. I’ll grab his stuff.”
The cold hit me the second I stepped outside, snow crunching beneath my boots as I made my way up the porch.
The warm glow of the porch light reflected off the fresh dusting of snow, and for a second, everything felt still.
Quiet. I packed Connor’s bag and slipped back outside, careful not to slide on the icy steps.
When I climbed back into the truck, brushing snow from my coat, Ryan glanced over at me, his expression soft. “Ready?”
“Yeah. It’s really cold out there,” I said, securing my seatbelt and blowing into my hands for warmth.
He cranked up the heat and reached over to adjust the vents, angling them toward me without saying anything. It was a simple gesture, but it caught me off guard–how thoughtful he always seemed to be, even when he wasn’t trying.
We drove in silence for a few minutes, the sound of the tires crunching over snow the only noise between us. It wasn’t awkward. It was… comfortable.
“Thanks for doing this,” I said, finally glancing over at him.
“Anytime,” he replied.
There was something steady about the way he said it–like he meant it. Like he was someone you could count on.
Ryan glanced over at me. “So… does Connor always negotiate sleepovers like he’s drafting a contract?”
I laughed. “Only when he thinks he’s got the upper hand. He knows Nina’s a softie–acts all tough, but he’s got her wrapped around his finger.”
Ryan grinned. “Smart kid. Sounds like he inherited some negotiation skills.”
“Oh, absolutely. If there’s pizza and a movie involved, he’s basically a lawyer.”
“He’s a good kid. Funny, too.” Ryan said, turning onto the main road. “The other day at practice, he tried to convince me that pineapple belongs on every kind of pizza.”
I groaned. “He’s been on that crusade for weeks. I blame YouTube.”
“I just asked what his favourite pizza was. Next thing I know, he’s giving me a TED Talk on the flavour balance of sweet and savory. Ryan smirked. “So, I told him I’d consider it–if he could score five slapshots in a row.”
“And did he?”
“Almost. Four and a half. The last one sort of wobbled in like a confused duck.”
I couldn’t help but chuckle. “Sounds about right.”
The snow started to fall heavier, soft flakes tapping against the windshield. It was quiet for a second, and then Ryan asked: “So, serious question: best movie snack. And be warned, there is only one correct answer.”
I tilted my head. “Popcorn with M&M’s. Obviously.”
“With or without butter?”
“With. Layered too, I’m not a monster.”
He nodded solemnly. “Okay, we can still be friends.”
I grinned at him. “That was almost a dealbreaker?”
“Almost. And pineapple on pizza?”
I gave him a long, considering look. “I plead the fifth.”
“That means pro,” he said, mock horror on his face. “Now that’s the dealbreaker.” he deadpanned.
We both laughed, and for a second, I forgot about all the things I usually kept tucked away. Just two people, sitting in a truck, giving each other a hard time–and it felt good.
We pulled up in front of Nina’s just as the laughter died down. The porch light glowed softly through the snow, and I felt that warmth again–not just from the heater.
Through the front window, the silhouette of chaos was obvious. Connor and Liam were likely in full sugar-fuelled madness, judging by the way shadows darted back and forth across the room. Nina was probably bossing Shane around, and Shane was probably ignoring her on purpose.
I tightened my grip on Connor’s overnight bag as Ryan stepped out of the truck beside me. We stood shoulder to shoulder on the walkway, and for a brief moment, our hands brushed. Just a passing touch. Still–enough to make me hyper-aware of the space between us.
A loud crash echoed from inside, and I flinched before I could stop myself.
Ryan must’ve noticed, because his voice was gentle when he said, “All good?”
I forced a smile. “Yeah. Just… sounds a little crazy in there.”
He didn’t push. Just nodded and adjusted his jacket, like he wasn’t standing next to someone who couldn’t fully silence the ghosts in her chest. And I was grateful for that–his ability to make space for me without demanding anything in return.
Still, the moment lingered. The kind that made you realize you were standing next to someone steady. Someone who made it easier to breathe.
He reached up to knock, and our hands brushed again–fleeting, accidental. Yet, it still sent a little buzz through my chest.
The door flew open, revealing Nina with a blanket draped over one shoulder and a spatula in the other. “You’re late. I’ve already lost the remote and control of the living room.”
“Sounds about right,” Ryan said with a grin as we stepped inside.
Chaos indeed. The boys had transformed the space into a full-scale fort city, cushions and blankets stacked precariously high, and both of them were mid-argument about whether the fortress needed a snack room or a jail for intruders. Nina and Shane were mid-bickering near the TV.
“I’m telling you,” Shane was saying, “you can’t go wrong with The Sandlot.”
“That’s not even a winter movie,” Nina retorted, tossing the spatula onto the coffee table. “It’s snowing outside, Shane.”
“It’s always snowing here! That’s why we need to watch it. Escapism,” he said.
Ryan leaned in toward me and murmured, “Think they’ve been arguing this whole time?”
“No question,” I whispered back.
He glanced over at the boys, then back at me with a smirk. “They’re going to be wired all night.”
“Wired and sticky,” I added. “Which is exactly how Nina loves her living room.”
Before I could say more, Connor popped out of the fort like a jack-in-the-box, eyes lighting up the second he spotted us.
“Ryan!” he shouted, sprinting across the room. “You’re staying right? You and mom both!”
I opened my mouth to gently decline, but Connor was already grabbing Ryan’s sleeve like it was a done deal. “Come on, please! We’re gonna watch a movie and there’s popcorn and Nina said we could have chocolate milk!”
From across the room, Nina chimed in without missing a beat. “You two have to stay. You can’t leave me to deal with these lunatics alone.” She jabbed a thumb toward Shane, who was now trying to wrestle a DVD case out of Liam’s hands, much to the boy's delight.
Ryan raised an eyebrow in my direction, waiting.
I sighed, knowing full well I was about to cave. “Okay, fine,” I said, shooting a half-hearted glare at Nina’s smug grin. “But only because I don’t want you to strangle Shane before the night’s over.”
“Perfect. I knew you’d see reason,” Nina said, clapping her hands like she’d just won a bet. “Now, snacks. Let’s go, people.”
The three of us congregated in the kitchen, descending on the counter like a tornado. Popcorn, chips and candy bowls flew left and right while Nina, in typical Nina fashion, hauled out her blender and limes.
I raised an eyebrow. “Margaritas?”
“Harper,” she said solemnly, salting the rims of glasses with laser focus, “when Shane is involved, margaritas are always necessary.”
“Hey,” Shane protested as he walked into the kitchen, a bag of chips in one hand and a bottle of soda in the other. “I’m delightful. Tell her, Ryan.”
Ryan grinned. “You’re definitely something.”
Nina smirked. “Exactly. And ‘something’ requires tequila.”
We finished loading the snacks onto a tray, passing bowls down like a well-oiled machine. Ryan grabbed the popcorn and led the way back to the living room, laughing as Liam tried to trip him with a blanket. I followed with drinks in hand, watching as Connor beamed up at him like he’d hung the moon.
Even with all the chaos, the noise, and Nina’s constant side-eyes. I felt… good. Lighter. And as I settled onto the couch, a bowl of candy in my lap and Ryan beside me, I thought that maybe these kinds of nights were the ones worth remembering.
The muffled sounds of raised voices pulled me from the edge of sleep. I blinked up at the ceiling, heart kicking up, unsure what had stirred me at first. Then it came again–a sharp voice, too loud, too close.
I frowned and sat up slowly, careful not to disturb anyone.
Ryan was still asleep beside me, one arm slung across his eyes, his chest rising and falling with each deep breath.
Shane was out cold in the recliner, head tilted back at an impossible angle.
The boys were sprawled across the living room floor in their makeshift blanket fort, limbs tangled together like sleepy puppies.
The house was still dim, the only light coming from the twinkle of Christmas decorations and the faint grey glow of dawn leaking through the windows.
I glanced at the clock on the wall. 6:02 am. Way too early for anyone to be yelling.
Wrapping my blanket around my shoulders, I padded across the floor, trying to avoid creaky floorboards, and made my way to the front window.
Outside the world looked frozen in time. Snow blanketed the ground in thick drifts, the trees bending slightly beneath the fresh weight. The sky was still a pale blue-grey, the kind that promised more snow, and the street was hushed, untouched by plows or footsteps.
Except for them.
I spotted Nina immediately, standing near the porch steps, her back stiff, arms crossed.
The woman in front of her–wild gestures, tense posture–looked eerily familiar.
Even in the dim light, I could see the resemblance.
The same sharp cheekbones, the same chestnut curls, an almost identical match to Liam’s.
His mother.
I hesitated, my pulse kicking up. The woman’s voice was high-pitched, slurred, and edged with frustration.
“I have every right to see him!” she shouted. “You think you can just shut me out? Like you’re so much better than me?”
Nina didn’t flinch. “You’re drunk,” she said, her voice low but steady, shaking with restraint. “Go home, now.”
I took a step toward the door, instinct overriding caution. Whatever was happening, Nina didn’t deserve to face it alone. Just as my fingers brushed the knob, a hand landed on my shoulder.
Startled, I turned to find Shane behind me, his expression unreadable, eyes locked on the scene outside.
“I’ll handle it,” he said, his voice quiet but firm. “Stay in here.”
Before I could protest, he moved past me, his broad frame filling the doorway as he moved onto the porch. The snow swallowed the sound of his footsteps, the weight of his presence unmistakable.
“Nina asked you to leave,” Shane said, his deep voice cutting through the tension like a blade. “You’re not welcome here.”
The woman’s hands flew to her hips, her stance defiant as her gaze snapped to him.
Her eyes narrowed, a flash of recognition sparking.
“Oh, look who it is. Shane O’Connell,” she sneered, her words thick with disdain.
“Still playing the town hero, huh? Thought you’d moved on from babysitting other people’s messes. ”
Shane’s jaw tightened, but his voice remained calm. “Not here to play games, Lily. You’ve been told to leave. Don’t make this harder than it needs to be.”
Lily let out a bitter laugh, throwing her hands in the air. “Of course you’re on her side. You’ve always been on Nina’s side. Everyone is. Poor, perfect Nina.” She swayed slightly, a mocking smirk twisting her features. “What, did she call you in as backup to keep me away from my own son?”
Nina inhaled sharply, her shoulders tensing. Shane stepped forward before she could speak.
“You need to stop,” he said, his tone steady, unwavering. “This isn’t the time or place, and you know it.”
For a moment, Lily faltered. Something flickered in her expression–hurt, regret, something softer beneath the anger. But it was gone just as quickly. She squared her shoulders, her gaze snapping back to Nina, sharp as a blade. “This isn’t over,” she hissed.
“It is for today,” Shane said, voice like steel.
Lily stood there a beat longer, daring someone to push her further. Then, with a frustrated growl, she spun on her heel and stumbled off into the snow, muttering curses under her breath as she disappeared down the street.
A thick silence settled in her wake. Shane exhaled slowly, his breath visible in the cold air. Nina didn’t move. I could see the tension in her posture–the rigid line of her shoulders–yet she didn’t turn, didn’t say a word.
I stood frozen in the doorway, my heart still pounding. Nina and Shane stepped inside, Nina brushing snow from her coat.
Her face was tight, jaw set as if she were holding back a storm. Her usual effortless composure had cracked, replaced by something raw and brittle. She didn’t look at me as she toed off her boots with jerky movements.
Shane shut the door behind them, his expression unreadable. Still, the way his eyes flicked to Nina, watching her closely, said more than words ever could.
I moved to her side, hesitating for just a second before squeezing her arm gently. “Are you okay?”
She forced a smile that wavered, barely holding. “I’m fine,” she said too quickly, brushing past me. “I’ll… I'll fill you in later.”
Her voice was tight, clipped. Not the usual I’ve-got-this Nina–only someone unraveling by the second.
Shane’s gaze lingered on her retreating form, concern flickering across his face before he schooled his features again. He didn’t follow her, though. He just exhaled slowly, the weight of the moment settling in his shoulders.
Ryan’s groggy voice broke the silence. “Everything okay?”
I turned, finding him awake now, leaning against the back of the couch. His hair was still mussed from sleep, his brows were furrowed, his sharp gaze flicking between me, Shane, and the hallway where Nina had disappeared.
I shook my head slightly, my thoughts still spinning. “I’m not sure,” I admitted, my voice quieter than I intended.
Ryan didn’t push. His eyes lingered on me instead, steady and searching, like he could see the questions swirling behind mine.