Chapter 33
Nina’s house always smelled like something comforting. Tonight, it was cinnamon and melted cheese–leftovers from a pizza night that ended in two boys with tomato sauce on their shirts and the echo of laughter bouncing off the walls.
Connor and Liam were holed up in Liam’s room, the unmistakable sound of rapid button mashing and enthusiastic trash talk filtering down the hallway. Their joy was loud and uncomplicated.
Unlike the storm inside me.
I sat cross-legged on Nina’s couch, my hands wrapped around a mug of peppermint tea I hadn’t touched. The TV was on, but I wasn’t paying attention to it. I kept glancing at my phone even though it hadn’t buzzed.
I should’ve known better. People like Ryan don’t end up with people like me.
The sound of a cupboard opening pulled me from my spiral. Nina padded into the living room with two fresh mugs, her brow raised as she handed me one and plopped onto the armchair across from me.
“Yours went cold. Figured I’d make you a new one.”
“Thanks,” I murmured, taking it but still not drinking.
She didn’t say anything for a moment, just watched me. Then, finally, “Have you heard from Ryan?”
My throat tightened, and I stared down at the tea. “Not really. He told me he made it, but that was about it. I think I messed everything up.”
Nina sighed, tucking her legs up beneath her. “You didn’t.”
“He probably didn’t realize all the baggage I brought.”
“That doesn’t scare the right kind of person away.” Her voice was soft yet firm.
I laughed, but it came out flat. “Maybe he’s not the right kind of person, then.”
A knock at the door pulled both our heads toward the hallway.
Nina frowned, setting her mug down on the coffee table. “Who the hell is that?”
She padded to the door and swung it open without checking–typical Nina. “Seriously?”
Shane’s voice drifted through, low and amused. “Good to see you too.”
She stepped back as he walked in like he owned the place, Liam’s hockey helmet in one hand and a cocky grin on his face. “I fixed his helmet,” he said, holding it up like a trophy. “Figured I’d drop it off.”
Nina crossed her arms, unimpressed. “You could’ve brought it to the game this weekend like a normal person.”
He shrugged, making his way into the living room. “Yeah, but then I’d miss the look on your face when I show up unannounced.”
He plopped down into the armchair across from me, completely unfazed, like he hadn’t just crashed an emotionally delicate conversation.
“Hi Harp,” he added with a grin, eyes flicking between the two of us like he knew something we didn’t.
“Hey, Shane.” I offered a small smile, shifting the blanket around my legs.
Nina rolled her eyes. “You’re about as subtle as a sledgehammer.”
Shane smirked, then glanced at me more seriously. “Did Ryan make it?”
At his name, my stomach flipped but I kept my face neutral. “Yeah.”
Nina’s brow arched, a sly smile tugging at her mouth. “What’s he really doing out of town? Secret family?”
Shane actually laughed–one of those full, unguarded laughs–and shook his head. “Yeah, right. No, he’s just helping out our buddy. That’s it.”
Both Nina and I looked at him, waiting, like maybe he’d say more.
His grin faltered, and he got to his feet, grabbing his coat off the arm of the chair. “And on that note, I’m gonna get going.”
Without another word, he was out the door, leaving us in the quiet he’d blown through just moments ago.
The next afternoon, after school, Nina and I got the boys into the car and headed for the outdoor rink.
The sun was low, spilling gold over the snowbanks that lined the path.
Our breath curled in the crisp air as we wrestled with laces and gloves, the familiar scrape of skates on ice filling the space around us.
Connor was nearly bouncing out of his seat on the bench, tugging at his skates before I could even tighten my own laces properly.
Ryan had surprised me with a pair of my own after the three of us had gone skating together a couple months ago.
Liam was already halfway across the ice, skating in circles.
I stepped onto the ice and glanced back at Nina. “Come on, it’s fun,” I called, motioning her toward the ice.
She shook her head, hands buried deep in her jacket pockets. “Nope. I do not skate.”
“Have you ever tried?”
“Once,” she said, a smirk tugging at her mouth. “Didn’t end well. I’ll cheer from here, thanks.”
I laughed, pushing off, the sound of my blades cutting clean through the ice.
Connor zoomed ahead, calling for Liam to race him.
For a while, the afternoon unfolded with easy warmth–shouts, laughter, the rhythmic scrape of skates, and the faint scent of hot chocolate drifting over from the concession stand.
For a while, I forgot about everything else.
Until the back of my neck prickled.
I slowed, scanning the edges of the rink. Out of the corner of my eye, just beyond the chain-link fence, a figure stood half-hidden in the lengthening shadows. Too still. Too focused. My heartbeat stumbled, a faint thud in my ears.
I turned to get a better look, but movement off to the right drew my attention.
Nina wasn’t sitting on the bench anymore. She was standing rigid, her body angled toward a woman with dark hair and sharp features I recognized instantly–Lily. Nina’s sister. Liam’s biological mom.
Even from across the ice, I could see the heat in their exchange. Lily’s voice carried, sharp and cutting. “You can’t keep him from me forever, Nina. He’s my son, whether you like it or not–” Her tone dripped with bitterness, the words tumbling faster, harder.
Instinct screamed at me to step in, though I hesitated. Nina could handle herself. And Liam… he didn’t need to see this.
My gaze darted to the boys–still skating, still laughing, completely oblivious. Relief threaded through my chest.
“Hey,” I called to them, forcing a smile into my voice. “Hot chocolate break. Let’s go.”
They cheered, skating toward me, cheeks flushed. I guided them to the far side of the rink, keeping my tone light and my pace steady, though my eyes kept flicking over my shoulder.
That prickling sensation was still there, needling me. The figure I’d seen earlier had vanished, but the unease lingered like a cold draft under a locked door.
I told myself to let it go-to focus on Liam’s grin as he talked about the race he’d just won, on Connor’s red cheeks and wide smile. But deep down, the knot in my stomach stayed tight.