Chapter 6
CHAPTER
SIX
WILLOW
I lie there staring at the ceiling, the unfamiliar hotel room dim and quiet around me, the faint hum of electricity a strange contrast to the chaos of yesterday. For a few seconds, I don’t move. I just breathe.
And then— It hits me. The storm. My dad. My sister. Still missing. My chest tightens instantly, that familiar panic rising up like it never left. But it’s not alone.
Because layered right on top of it— Is him.
Garrison.
My eyes close, my breath catching as last night crashes back into me all at once. The elevator. His arms around me.
The kiss. His tongue deep between my folds. The way he made me come harder than any other man ever has. It was effortless. Heat floods my chest, my stomach, everywhere, my body remembers it before my mind can even catch up.
My fingers curl slightly into the blanket as I press my lips together. Because that’s the problem. It meant something. Not just to me. To him too. I saw it.
Felt it.
The way he pulled me closer. The way he didn’t stop. The way he couldn’t stop. My chest aches.
Because I know what that means. It should feel like everything I’ve ever wanted finally falling into place.
But instead—It hurts. Because right underneath that feeling is something just as strong.
My dad. I sit up abruptly, dragging a hand through my hair as the panic surges again.
Where is he?
Where is my sister?
Are they safe?
Are they—I can’t even finish the thought. I won’t.
“Okay,” I whisper to myself, like I did yesterday. “Okay…”
But it doesn’t help. I don’t know how to feel both of these things at once.
I don’t know how to want Garrison—need him—and still feel like my heart is breaking over my family. Tears burn behind my eyes before I can stop them.
“Why does this have to happen now?” I whisper.
Why him?
Why like this?
Why when everything else is falling apart?
I swing my legs over the side of the bed, standing slowly, the room spinning just slightly before I steady myself. I move to the window, pulling the curtain back just enough to look outside.
The world is still wrecked. Water pooled in the streets. Debris everywhere. People moving and trying to piece things back together one step at a time.
And somewhere out there—my family. Or what’s left of it. My chest tightens again, sharper this time.
Before I know it Garrison is standing next to me. My heart jumps. He looks just as tired as he did yesterday.
But his eyes… The second they find mine something shifts in them. Something that mirrors exactly what I’m feeling.
“Hey,” he says quietly.
“Hey.”
We just stand there for a second. Looking at each other. And everything from last night is right there between us. Unspoken. My heart stutters painfully in my chest because I want him so much it scares me.
I want to feel his arms around me again and forget about everything else for just a second—but I can’t.
My voice wavers slightly. “We need to go.”
He nods immediately.
“Yeah,” he says. “We do.” No hesitation. No argument.
Because he knows. He understands. He’s everything I could ever want. And I might not get to have him. Not really. Not without losing something else.
My throat tightens.
“I don’t know how to do this,” I admit softly.
His brow furrows. “Do what?”
“This,” I gesture vaguely between us, my voice breaking just slightly. “Feel like this about you… and still—”
I stop.
Because I don’t even know how to finish that sentence.
He steps a little closer, his voice low. “And still what?”
“Still feel like my heart is breaking,” I whisper.
The words hang there.
“Willow…”
“I don’t want to lose them,” I say quickly, the words spilling out now.
“I don’t want to lose my dad or my sister, and I don’t even know if they’re okay, and I feel like I shouldn’t be thinking about anything else but them, but I can’t stop thinking about you either, and I don’t know what that says about me—”
“Hey.”
He closes the distance, his hands coming up to gently hold my arms.
Grounding me.
“It doesn’t say anything bad about you,” he says firmly. “It says you’re human.”
My chest tightens.
“I feel like I’m being torn in half,” I whisper.
“I know.”
His thumbs brush lightly against my arms, steady and reassuring.
“I’ve been there too.”
I look up at him. And I see it. The same conflict. The same pull. The same impossible situation.
“You’re not wrong for feeling both things,” he continues quietly. “You can want your family and—”
He stops himself.
My heart aches.
“And you,” I finish for him.
His jaw tightens slightly. But he doesn’t deny it.
“No,” he says.
A tear slips down my cheek before I can stop it.
“Because I don’t think I can have both.”
The words come out small. Broken. And I hate how true they feel. His hand lifts, brushing the tear away gently.
“You don’t know that yet,” he says.
“I do,” I whisper. The line we already crossed is something we can’t come back from. The way this can only end in one of us losing something. His hand lingers against my face for just a second longer before he drops it, like he’s remembering that line too.
“Let’s find them first,” he says quietly. “One thing at a time.”
I nod slowly.
“Okay.”
We walk to the car, both of us looking down.
The roads are quieter today. Not empty—but quieter.
The world is still catching its breath after everything it went through.
I sit in the passenger seat, my hands resting in my lap.
I sit still. Trying not to move… trying not to let myself think too much, because if I do… I might fall apart again.
We’re heading to another shelter. Another list. Another chance. Another maybe. I stare straight ahead, watching the road blur past, but I’m not really seeing it.
I’m feeling everything instead. The ache in my chest. The tightness in my throat. The pull that keeps dragging my eyes back to him.
Garrison.
He’s focused on the road, hands steady on the wheel, jaw tight like he’s holding something in. Like he’s trying just as hard as I am not to let it spill over. But it’s already there.
I can’t keep it in anymore.
“I love you.”
The words come out before I can stop them. Before I can second guess them. Before I can tell myself this is the wrong time. My breath catches the second they leave my mouth. The car feels impossibly quiet.
Garrison’s hands tighten slightly on the wheel. He doesn’t look at me right away. For a second, I think— Maybe I shouldn’t have said it.
“I love you too.”
My heart stops.
He says it like it’s the most certain thing in the world.
Like there’s no hesitation. No doubt. I turn to him, my chest tightening, my breath shallow.
“Garrison…”
He exhales slowly, like he’s been holding that in for a long time.
“I’ve loved you since the first moment we touched,” he says.
My stomach flips. My heart stumbles.
“Since the garage?” I whisper.
He nods once.
“Yeah.”
That one moment. That one kiss. And everything changed. For both of us. I swallow hard, emotion rising fast and overwhelming.
“Why didn’t you say anything?” I ask softly.
A quiet, humorless huff escapes him. “Because your dad made it pretty clear how that would go. Plus you’re young. I can’t stop you from living your life. And my job as a SEAL—it’s not really conducive to a girlfriend.”
The truth of that lands heavy. But it doesn’t change anything. Not for me.
“Nothing he said changes how I feel,” I tell him, my voice stronger now. “It doesn’t change this.”
I gesture between us. Because it’s real. Because it’s undeniable. Because I refuse to pretend it’s not. His jaw tightens slightly, his eyes still fixed on the road.
“It changes things,” he says quietly.
“Only if we let it.”
That gets his attention. He glances at me then. And the look in his eyes—conflict. Want. Fear. Love. All of it tangled together in a way that makes my chest ache.
“You think it’s that simple?” he asks.
“No,” I admit. “I don’t.”
Because it’s not. Nothing about this is.
“But I don’t care,” I add softly. “I’m not walking away from this. Not because someone told me to.”
His breath catches slightly. And for a second— Just a second—
I think he might agree. Might give in. Might say we’ll figure it out right now. But he doesn’t. He looks back at the road, his grip tightening on the wheel again.
“We’re not walking away,” he says.
My heart lifts just a little bit.
“Let’s find your dad. We can go from there. Plan?”
“Plan.” I say. Somehow I feel like things can only get better from here.