Chapter 30
Chapter Thirty
Hudson
The early morning light filtered through the curtains, casting a soft golden glow over the room. Naomi was still asleep, her head resting against my chest, her hand curled loosely over my heart. Her hair spilled over the pillow like a dark halo, and her soft breaths matched the steady rhythm of my own.
I hadn’t moved for what felt like hours, not wanting to disturb her. This moment—quiet, unguarded, and entirely ours—felt like something I’d spent my whole life searching for. And now that I had it, I wasn’t sure how to let it go.
Naomi shifted slightly, murmuring something unintelligible in her sleep, and I smiled, brushing a strand of hair away from her face. She’d always been beautiful, but there was something about seeing her like this, relaxed and vulnerable, that hit me in a way I couldn’t explain.
She was my anchor, my constant. And I hadn’t even realized how much I needed her until she came back into my life.
I thought back to the first time I saw her again, standing on the side of that dark road, her car broken down and her eyes filled with frustration. She’d looked so familiar and yet so different, stronger somehow, but still carrying the weight of something I couldn’t see.
At the time, I told myself I was just being practical, stepping in to help a friend. But the truth was, even then, I’d felt the pull. The same pull I’d felt as a teenager, sitting by the creek and wondering what it would be like to kiss her. The same pull I’d felt every time she laughed at one of my stupid jokes or leaned her head on my shoulder.
Naomi had always been more than a friend. She’d been my home.
The sound of her breathing brought me back to the present, and I looked down at her, my chest tightening with emotion. She’d been through so much—more than she ever should have had to face—and yet, she was still here. Still fighting. Still trusting me.
I didn’t deserve her. Not really. But for some reason, she believed in me. And that belief had given me something I hadn’t had in years: hope.
Hope for a future beyond the chaos, beyond the constant battle to keep her safe. A future where we could wake up like this every day, where I didn’t have to worry about The Fold or Jared or anything else that might try to take her from me.
I wanted that future. For both of us.
Naomi stirred again, her eyes fluttering open, and she blinked up at me, a soft smile curving her lips. “Morning.”
“Morning,” I said, my voice low.
She stretched, her body pressing against mine in a way that made my breath hitch. “Have you been awake long?”
“Long enough,” I said, brushing my fingers along her back. “You sleep okay?”
“Better than I have in weeks,” she admitted, resting her chin on my chest as she looked at me. “How about you?”
“Best sleep of my life,” I said honestly.
Her smile widened, and she traced a lazy circle on my chest with her finger. “What are you thinking about?”
“You,” I said without hesitation.
“Good things, I hope,” she teased.
“Always,” I said, my tone softening. “I was just thinking about how much has changed since you came back.”
“Changed how?” she asked, her brow furrowing slightly.
“In every way,” I said. “You’ve given me something I didn’t think I’d ever have again.”
“What’s that?” she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.
“Hope,” I said simply. “For us. For a life beyond all of this.”
Her expression softened, and she leaned up, pressing a gentle kiss to my lips. “I want that too, Hudson.”
The words settled over me, filling the empty spaces I hadn’t even realized were there. For the first time in years, I could see it—really see it. A home, a family, a life where we weren’t constantly looking over our shoulders.
And with Naomi by my side, it didn’t feel impossible.
The day passed in a blur of quiet moments and easy laughter. We stayed in, cooking breakfast together—though Naomi’s attempt at flipping pancakes ended with batter splattered across the counter. She laughed so hard she had to lean against me for support, and I couldn’t help but join in, the sound of her laughter warming me from the inside out.
Later, we sat on the couch, her legs draped over mine as we talked about everything and nothing. She told me about the places she’d seen during her time away, the cities she’d explored, and the people she’d met. I listened, captivated, storing away every detail like it was a treasure.
“You’ve seen so much,” I said, shaking my head. “Meanwhile, I’ve been here, stuck in the same old routine.”
“Your routine isn’t bad,” she said, resting her head on my shoulder. “And besides, it brought us back together, didn’t it?”
I nodded, my hand brushing over her hair. “Yeah, it did.”
As the evening rolled around, I found myself imagining what it would be like to make this permanent. To wake up every morning with Naomi by my side, to come home to her laugh, her smile, her warmth. It wasn’t a dream anymore—it felt like something real, something we could have if we just fought hard enough for it.
She caught me staring at her and raised an eyebrow. “What?”
“Nothing,” I said, smiling. “Just thinking.”
“About?” she pressed, her curiosity piqued.
I hesitated, then decided to tell her the truth. “About us. About the future.”
Her expression softened, and she leaned into me, her voice quiet but firm. “We’ll figure it out, Hudson. Together.”