Chapter 17
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
KATE
Idon’t realise how tightly wound I am until my phone buzzes and I nearly drop it.
It’s ridiculous, really. I’ve already spoken to him this morning.
I’ve seen his face, heard his voice, let him gently pull me back from the edge of the spiral I’d worked myself into before I’d even had a chance to properly wake up.
And yet my body reacts like this is something new.
Something uncertain. It’s as though I’m standing at the edge of something I don’t quite trust myself to step into.
It’s just a message.
I let out a slow breath and force my shoulders to drop before I reach for my phone, which sits in the cup holder, its screen lighting up as I tap it awake.
Lukas: I am thinking coffee tomorrow morning. Somewhere quiet. No pressure. Just you and me.
I read it once. Then again, slower this time, my thumb hovering over the screen as a warmth settles low in my chest, pushing back against the nerves that seem determined to take up permanent residence.
No pressure.
Just you and me.
He doesn’t push or assume, and he doesn’t act like last night gives him any kind of claim over me, even though it would be so easy for this to shift into something heavier, more complicated. Instead, he’s giving me space. And somehow, that makes it harder to hide behind my usual excuses.
I stare at the message for longer than I need to, my brain already trying to run ahead, picking apart every possible outcome, every way this could go wrong, every reason I should step back before I get in too deep.
Tomorrow seems too soon for another date. No Hudson. No Emma. No buffer.
A flicker of nerves twists in my stomach, sharp enough to make me press my lips together, but underneath it, there’s something else. Something quieter that feels a lot like anticipation. That thought alone makes me shake my head slightly at myself.
What am I doing?
I don’t give myself time to answer that question. Instead, I start typing before I can talk myself out of it.
Kate: Coffee sounds good.
I pause, staring at the words, my thumb hovering again as I debate leaving it there. Keeping it simple. Safe. But that’s not what this is anymore, is it?
Before I can second-guess it, I add to the message.
Kate: Somewhere public, though. I’m still deciding if you can be trusted. ;)
The second I hit send, my heart kicks up a notch, as if I’ve stepped over a line I can’t quite see but definitely feel. There’s a pause long enough for doubt to creep in. Then my phone buzzes again.
Lukas: Ouch. After last night, I thought I had proven myself.
Heat rushes straight up my neck, settling in my cheeks as I glance up instinctively, even though I’m alone in the car. Someone might hear that or see it.
God, he’s impossible. I bite back a smile, forcing my fingers to move again.
Kate: You’ve proven you’re very convincing. That’s not the same thing.
This time, his reply is almost immediate.
Lukas: Then I will work harder.
The words are simple, but they hit in a way I don’t expect, loosening a knot in my chest I hadn’t realised was still there.
He’s not backing off, but he’s not overwhelming me either.
The way he didn’t rush me or try to charm his way through every silence, but sat in them instead, he seemed to be comfortable being there with me without needing to fill every space.
I pull onto my street, the neat row of houses coming into view, all of them identical in structure but completely different in the lives they hold inside. Mine feels the same as it always has, steady and predictable, and right now, I cling to that more than I probably should. I need normal.
I park, cut the engine, and sit there, my hands resting on the wheel as I take a slow breath in and out. Then I grab my phone again. Before I can talk myself out of it, I scroll to my mum’s number and hit call.
She answers on the third ring. “Hi, love. Everything alright?”
Her voice is warm, familiar, and immediately grounding in a way I didn’t realise I needed.
“Yeah,” I say quickly, pushing the car door open and stepping out. “I just had a minute.”
“You don’t usually call in the middle of the day unless something’s on your mind,” she replies gently.
I let out a small breath as I lock the car and head toward the front door. “Is it that obvious?”
“Only because I know you.”
That earns me a small, reluctant smile as I step inside, kicking my shoes off by the door before I take the bread and milk into the kitchen.
The house is quiet, but not empty. I can hear the faint sound of Hudson moving around upstairs, something thudding lightly against the floor.
He’d insisted I drop him off at home after I picked him up from Emma’s.
He’s apparently too old now to pop to the supermarket with me.
“Do you want to tell me what’s going on?” she asks.
I hesitate, leaning back against the closed kitchen door for a second, staring at nothing in particular. “I went on a date,” I say finally.
There’s a pause, then a soft, surprised laugh. “Well. That’s not something I hear every day.”
“I know.”
“Was it good?”
My stomach flips, which feels ridiculous considering I’m talking to my mother. “Yes,” I admit. “It was… really good.”
“Okay,” she says, her tone shifting, more attentive now. “And I’m guessing that’s where the problem is?”
I push away from the door, walking slowly into the kitchen, trailing my fingers along the counter as I go.
“I don’t know if it’s a problem,” I say. “I just,” I stop, searching for the right words. “It feels like a lot. Very quickly.”
“That tends to happen when you actually like someone,” she points out gently.
I let out a quiet breath. “Yeah.”
“Are you worried about him?” she asks.
I shake my head, even though she can’t see me. “Not exactly.”
“Then what?”
I rest my hip against the counter, staring out of the window at the garden.
“Hudson,” I say after a moment. “My life. Everything I’ve built after he left.” And that’s the problem. Hudson has been the centre of my life for fourteen years.
There’s a pause on the other end of the line, and when she speaks again, her voice is gentle. “Kate, you’re allowed to have a life outside of being a mum.”
“I know that,” I say a little too quickly.
“Do you?” she challenges. “Because from where I’m standing, you’ve spent the last fourteen years putting yourself last. Even more so since Daniel walked out.”
I press my lips together, my gaze dropping to the counter.
“That’s not a bad thing,” she continues. “You’re an incredible mother. But it doesn’t mean you stop being a person as well.”
“It’s not that simple.”
“It never is,” she agrees. “But that doesn’t mean you don’t try.”
I let her words settle, the quiet stretching between us. “He wants to see me again,” I admit.
“And what do you want?”
The question is easy because I know the answer. “I want to say yes,” I say quietly.
“Then say yes.”
I let out a breathless laugh. “You make it sound very easy.”
“That’s because, sometimes, it is,” she replies. “You’re not planning your whole future. You’re agreeing to see someone again.”
When she puts it like that, it does feel simpler and a lot less scary.
“Okay,” I say, more to myself than to her.
“That’s my girl,” she says warmly. “Just don’t turn it into something it doesn’t need to be yet.”
I smile faintly. “I’ll try.”
“Good. And for what it’s worth,” she adds, “I’m glad that you’re putting yourself out there again,” she says. “You deserve that, Kate.”
My chest tightens a fraction. “Thanks, Mum.”
“Anytime, love. Now go and do something normal before you spiral yourself into a corner.”
“I think that might be too late.”
“It’s never too late,” she replies lightly. “Call me later, alright?”
“I will.”
We hang up, and I set my phone down on the counter, exhaling slowly as the quiet settles around me again. I just stand there, thinking for a while. Trying not to overanalyse every single part of what’s happening.
A loud thud from upstairs breaks the moment.
“Hudson?” I call.
“I’m fine!” he shouts back immediately.
Of course he is. I shake my head slightly, grab a glass and pour myself some water, taking a long sip before heading toward the stairs. When I reach the top, his bedroom door is open, and he’s sprawled across his bed, controller in hand, eyes fixed on the screen.
He glances up when he notices me. “You okay?”
The question is casual, but there’s tension underneath it. Something more aware than it used to be.
“I’m fine, but more importantly, what was that thud?” I say, leaning lightly against the doorframe.
He studies me, his eyes narrowing slightly. “I rolled off the bed trying to score a goal.” He waves his controller around and looks a little embarrassed.
I give a small laugh. “I see. Are you hurt?”
“Nah,” he says, turning his attention back to the game for a second before looking at me again. “Just didn’t want to miss the goal.”
“Do you need anything?” I ask.
He shrugs. “No.”
I nod, pushing myself off the doorframe. “Alright. I’ll be downstairs.”
“Okay.”
I turn to leave, but I can feel his gaze on me for a second longer before he goes back to his game. And as I make my way back down the stairs, that familiar knot tightens in my stomach again. Because this is the part I can’t ignore, it’s not just me in this. It never has been.
I step back into the kitchen, the house settling into its usual quiet rhythm around me, and I rest my hands against the counter, staring down at nothing in particular.
My mum’s words echo faintly in my head. You’re allowed to have a life. Maybe I am. Maybe this doesn’t have to be as complicated as I’m making it. But as I think about Lukas and the way he looks at me, how he makes me feel, I know one thing for certain.
This isn’t simple.
And that might be exactly why it scares me so much.