Chapter 17
Chapter Seventeen
PRESENT
Theo wanted to drive back with me in the truck, so he and Kat came with me. Only moments after Theo’s buckled into the backseat, he’s snoozing. I glance in the rearview mirror, and he’s clutching the hunk of wood I gave him for his first project like it’s a blankie.
Kat catches my eyes on him and turns to peek herself. “Are you sure you have time to teach him whittling?” She settles back into her seat. “You must be so busy with Monarch Hills.”
“It’s busy, but I’m stepping away more. When I spoke with the foster agency, they said my application wouldn’t get approved if I couldn’t show I’m able to prioritize Owen. I promoted my stable manager and head trainer to Executive Director. Bran’s so good I’m having separation anxiety from work. Point being, giving Theo whittling lessons will keep me out of trouble.”
She hums a laugh but glances out the window, thoughtful.
I turn left onto San Antonio Valley Road. Julia’s is only another five minutes away, but I wonder if Kat would notice if I took the long way around.
“It’s incredible you made all your dreams come true,” she says, her voice tinged with whimsy.
“What about you?” I ask, the irony not lost on me. “Did you finally become a starving artist like you always wanted?”
“The only thing I ever became was a wife and a mother.”
“You say it like it’s a bad thing.”
A beat of silence passes, heavy with unspoken words.
“It wasn’t my plan. But Theo has brought out the best in me, unlike his father.”
I flip the station to Smooth Jazz and redirect the radio to the back speakers only. “You said you were never engaged to Nic? Not even before getting married?”
“No. It was a shotgun wedding. It took a long time to move on from you. About two years after something just clicked in me that I needed to at least try to live my life. My few friends in the apartment block were dating and going out, whereas I was focused on my schoolwork and binging reality shows where they redesign cars into rat rods and works of art.”
“Love those shows. ”
“Yeah. I did a whole series of car designs back then.”
I wonder if she still has them but don’t want to change the subject. Quite the opposite. I want to stay on track. “So, it took two years to move on? That’s fast.” I tease. Sort of.
Two years. That’s all it took for her to move on. Meanwhile, I spent a decade lying to myself. Telling myself time would do the work. That if I kept riding, kept pushing forward, the ache in my chest would fade. But time didn’t erase shit. And now, sitting next to her, hearing her say it like she’s recounting some history lesson, I wonder if our past meant the same thing to her as it did to me.
“Like you waited,” she scoffs. I saw photos of you with buckle bunnies all the time.”
I used to tell myself I was glad when those pictures got around. That maybe if she saw them, she’d think I was doing fine. That maybe it would sting her the way losing her wrecked me. But hearing her say it now? Knowing for sure she saw them?
It just leaves an ache in my chest.
“Yeah… well…” I don’t know if I should admit this but I do. “It took me finding out you were pregnant to do more than mess around after a drunk night out.”
She soaks in my words. We both do. There’s a sadness in knowing we both were still thinking of one another for years after the split.
But she clears the intensity with a joke. “Are you taking the moral high road here? You waited longer?”
She’s sitting right here, and I still want to reach for her. Still want to know what she’s thinking, what she’s feeling. Still want to be the one she tells everything to. So no, I never moved on. I just learned how to live with the ghost of her.
But I can’t say any of it. I just respond with a smug flash of my dimple. “I’m absolutely the bigger person.”
She laughs sarcastically. “Aren’t you a saint?”
We could move on. We should. But I want to know. I need to know how she was able to do it. “So… tell me what happened at the two-year mark?”
She rolls her lips and stares out the windshield. “I went out with some people from the apartment block. My neighbor drove us somewhere south of Santa Cruz, but I was too drunk to even remember where I was. I couldn’t find my neighbor. I was so wasted. And I made the fatal error of calling Nic to find me and take me home. It was him or my dad, so…”
She trails off, then checks on Theo in the back to make sure he’s still sleeping. The rest of the story is weighed down by the past and unable to make its way out.
“Was it… mutual?” I say, low.
“I was trashed, but I won’t pretend I wasn’t aware of what was going on. I asked him to use a condom, so that wasn’t a no. I’m not sure what I was thinking, but I knew Nicholas as a friend of my father’s for a long time. Maybe I hoped it would shock my system into moving on from you once and for all.”
“And that’s when you got together?”
“No. He asked me on a date the next morning, but I said we should be friends. Not that I meant it exactly. Even though Nicholas was always charming toward me, I was wary of anyone who could get along with my dad so easily. You know?”
I nod.
“But when I missed my next period… well, that’s when my life changed forever. I was in shock. Did the condom split? Did he even wear one? I hardly remembered any of what happened that night.” She sighs. “People think when a woman gets pregnant, she knows immediately whether she wa nts the baby or not. I didn’t. But I did think it was the right thing to do to contact Nic. Firstly, if I had the baby, he would need to be involved, and if not… I could hardly ask my dad for money… not for something like that.” She reflects. “I cried on that phone call. I was so… ashamed.” She laughs humorlessly. “Nic soothed me, telling me not to worry. Said he’d be there for me for anything I needed.”
Her long exhale is so heavy it fills the car like smoke.
“He said all that, but when we hung up, he sent out a company-wide email telling everyone he was going to be a father. That we were having a baby.”
I grip the steering wheel tighter, my knuckles going bone white. If I don’t, I might just hit something. Because hearing her say these things—hearing how she got trapped, how she was pulled under while I was out there trying to forget her—it makes me want to rage. At Nic. At Paul. At myself. At every fucking moment that led us here instead of where we were supposed to be.
I park up at Julia’s and am thankful we’re here because I can’t concentrate on the road anymore.
I swallow dryly. “You didn’t deserve that.”
“You know, my regret looking back isn’t having Theo. Yes, on some level, Nic forced my hand, but I’m grateful for that part. I didn’t need my twenties the way some people do—to party and get to know themselves. I wanted pure connection. I wanted something real, like what I have with my son, because my dad only loved me when I performed for him and my mom only loved me because I listened. With Theo, it’s something so incredibly pure. Innocent. Unconditional.
“But I do wish I’d resisted marrying Nicholas just so Theo would have a so-called stable family. But… there was a part of me that thought… get real, Kat. True love is for fairy tale s… Little did I know that company email was just the beginning of proving me right.”
For years, I told myself she was better off without me. But now I know the truth—she wasn’t better off. She was surviving.
Just like me.
I think of young Kat and know she was strong and independent. She managed to stand up to her dad many times, but even the hardest gems grind down eventually. If Nic was the kind of man to do something so low, I hate to think of how he treated her in the years that followed.
That bastard had no right to touch her. No right to claim her, to use her, to twist her life into something she never asked for. But he did. He fucking did. And I wasn’t there to stop it. I could spend a lifetime hating Nicholas Petras, and it still wouldn’t be enough.
And maybe the worst part? Now I blame myself.
Just then, Julia’s taillights turn off in the driveway, and she walks up the path to the front door. She knows we’re parked here. I don’t give a damn. Kat’s talking. Maybe it feels good for her to get these things off her chest, so I don’t move.
I see in the rearview that Theo is still sleeping.
“So why…”
My question is interrupted by Julia shouting through the night. “Santi!”
I bow down to see Julia running toward my truck. I’m out immediately, rushing to meet her.
“The door,” Julia says, breathing heavily. “It’s been tampered with.”
An hour later, the police have come and gone. The place has been dusted for prints. There’s no evidence of anyone getting inside, but that doesn’t make it any less unsettling. Julia’s neighbor, Mr. Chen, said he heard something and turned on his porch light. He swears he saw a shadowy figure—maybe two—running away. But poor Mr. Chen has cataracts, and the best he could do was wave his cane in the air and squint at the darkness. Still, the fact that someone was here, watching, lurking, has my blood running ice-cold.
Julia and I sit in the kitchen, the sharp scent of peppermint tea steeping in the air, but the warmth in my hands does nothing to take the chill out of my bones. Kat’s tea sits untouched, the steam curling away, forgotten. My body tenses the second I hear her socked feet tiptoe down the wooden stairs.
She steps into the kitchen, wrapped in a chunky cardigan that’s cinched tightly at the waist, her hair piled into a messy bun with loose tendrils framing her face. The shadows under her eyes are more pronounced now, exhaustion settling deep into her bones. But she’s beautiful in the kind of way that’s dangerous. The kind that’s not just about the way she looks but the way she makes me feel—like I’d burn the whole world down if she asked.
She crosses her arms. “He’s finally sleeping.”
I nod, glancing toward the stairs. “That’s a relief.”
Julia sighs and pushes herself up stiffly. “Right. I’m off to bed. Y’all turn off the lights when you’re finished.” She takes two steps before Kat catches her arm.
“Julia, I just have to say?— ”
Julia stops her with a hand in the air. “I won’t have it. You’re staying here.”
Kat’s brows draw together. “Julia, we can’t bring trouble to your shop. To your home.”
“I said I won’t have it.” Her tone is final. “I don’t care if I have to dust off my late husband’s shotgun and sit on the porch myself. Y’all are safer here than anywhere else.” She squeezes Kat’s shoulder and turns to me. “Take them to Monarch Hills tomorrow. Show them a good time. They could use a break.”
With that, she leaves.
Kat shakes her head. “You don’t have to do anything more for us. We’re?—”
I cut her off. “If you say you’re fine, then I know for sure your standards aren’t where they need to be.”
She exhales, shoulders slumping as she eases into the chair across from me. “We will be fine.”
I lean back, watching her carefully. “That’s better, at least. Do you still ride?”
Her fingers toy with the rim of her mug. “No. Nic didn’t allow it.”
A fresh wave of rage pulses through me. I swear, I could kill that bastard all over again. But that’s the thing about ghosts. You can’t fight them. You can’t erase what they did. You just have to live with the wreckage they left behind.
I swallow down the fire burning in my throat. “Do you want to?”
The question catches her off guard. I bet she forgot she ever had choices.
“I’d be happy to take you and Theo tomorrow.”
She lifts the mug to her full lips. “I’m going to ask Julia if I can work the register tomorrow. ”
I smirk, leaning forward. “You and Jules in a battle of wills? I’m buying tickets to that show.”
Her fingers tighten around the cup. “I need the money.”
It’s barely a whisper, but it guts me all the same.
I reach across the table, covering her hand with mine. Even through the thick sleeve of her sweater, I feel the electricity, the magnetism, the thing that’s never stopped drawing me to her. “Whatever you need, I got you.”
She’s resolute. “I want to do this on my own.”
“That’s what friends are for, Kat. You’d do it for someone if you could.” I meet her gaze, holding it steady. “Besides, what am I going to spend my money on if not the people I care about?”
Her eyes search mine like she’s looking for a loophole, a reason to argue. But she knows me. Knows that all I’ve ever cared about is my family, my horses, and the land under my boots. That I’d give my last damn dollar if it meant making someone I love breathe a little easier.
Her voice is quiet. “Why didn’t you ever find someone?”
The question lingers in the air between us.
I don’t hesitate. “For the same reason you settled for Nic.”
Her lips part slightly, but no words come out.
I spoke the truth but it’s dangerous. Because even if I wanted to let myself reach for her, something is standing in the way now. Owen. I can’t risk my application; can’t risk the life I’ve promised to build for him. The agency is already combing through every part of my life. The last thing I need is any question about where my priorities lie.
The tension between us crackles, heavy and suffocating. If I were any other man, I’d take her face in my hands and kiss her. I’d prove to her that there was never a moment in the last thirteen years that she wasn’t mine. But I can’t. Because she deserves more than that. More than a moment. More than history repeating itself.
I shift the conversation back to what matters. “These break-ins… can you think of any reason why someone might be after you?”
She exhales sharply. “I’ve been racking my brain since the farmhouse. But maybe… maybe Nic was doing shady business. Maybe there were other people involved.”
I tense. “But why would they come after you?”
Her fingers tap absently against her mug. “I don’t know. I mean, my assets are frozen. All I have is Theo and some clothes. I don’t have anything anyone else would want…”
She stills.
“What?” I push.
She furrows her brows. “Maybe I do have something. After Nic died, like people often do, I ransacked the house and went through all his things. There was a loose floorboard under his desk and that’s where I found a locked box. It took me hours to find the key, but when I did… there were flash drives. And pictures. Of a woman.”
A sick feeling slithers through my gut. “A woman?”
She nods. “An older woman. A collection of photos of her through the years. And three flash drives.”
I sit up straighter. “And you didn’t think this was important before?”
She starts to explain, “It appeared to be a family member or something, which was strange because…"
Just then, Theo’s cries pierce the quiet.
Kat bolts upright. “Theo!”
I’m already moving, taking the stairs two at a time, her frantic footsteps behind me. His cries grow louder, raw, and panicked. I push into the room just as Kat drops beside him, smoothing his hair, whispering soft reassurances.
I watch her take him into her embrace, rock him gently, her breath shaky. And in that moment, something inside me solidifies.
I won’t let anything else happen to them. No matter what it takes.
Nothing will ever touch them while I’m still breathing.