Chapter 52Avery
Chapter Fifty-Two
Avery
The highway stretches out before us, a gray ribbon cutting through the rolling hills. I'm slouched in the passenger seat, watching the world blur by. It's like waking up from one of those dreams that's so good you try to fall back asleep just to slip back into it. But this... this was real. The laughter, the warmth, the feeling of letting go – all real. And now, as Worcester looms ahead, a pang of sadness hits me. Weird, right? Home should feel good.
Victor's hand finds mine, his grip firm yet gentle. He knows. Not a word said, but he knows.
"Where's Marcus?" Olivia's voice cuts through my thoughts, her eyes not lifting from the colorful pixels dancing on her Game Boy screen .
"Visiting family for the holidays," Victor replies, his gaze flicking briefly to the rearview mirror.
"Are you gonna go back to Boston, then?" Her question is innocent, but it's loaded with more hope and fear than she realizes.
Victor doesn't miss a beat, turning to me with those piercing blue eyes, the kind that have seen too much yet still dare to dream. "For the foreseeable future, I'm staying in Worcester," he says, and I swear there's a promise wrapped in those words, something solid and reassuring.
It's a strange thing, seeing Victor here, in this moment. The man who's always had walls higher than skyscrapers, letting them crumble piece by piece. For a guy who learned life's hard lessons on the ice, who skated alone on frozen ponds when the families he hoped would keep him fell through, there's a warmth in him now that wasn't there before. Like a thaw after the longest winter.
"Really?" Olivia's voice is hopeful, her game momentarily forgotten.
"Really," he confirms, smiling at her reflection in the mirror before his eyes meet mine again. There's a silent conversation there, a depth that goes beyond words. We're in this together – whatever this is shaping up to be.
The gravel crunches under the tires as we pull into the driveway. The familiarity of home wraps around me, but it's tinged with a pang of something like loss. I'm not ready to let go of the bubble we created these past days.
"Freedom!" Olivia's cheer cuts through my thoughts as she bursts out of the car and dashes for the front door, her energy uncaged after hours cooped up. Her laughter echoes back to us.
"Here, let me help with those." Victor's voice is gentle, his hands reaching for the bags in the trunk. His touch lingers just a moment longer than necessary, grounding me.
"Thanks," I mutter, watching Olivia disappear inside. When the door slams shut, it feels final, and suddenly it's just Victor and me, alone in the silence that follows.
We head inside, and I can hear Olivia's footsteps thumping up to her room. Victor sets the bags down by the stairs, and there's a tension between us, an unspoken conversation waiting to spill over.
"Victor..." I start, then pause, unsure how to voice the fear coiling in my stomach. "I'm worried you're setting Olivia up—setting us both up—for disappointment."
He frowns, a line appearing between his brows. "What do you mean?"
"Whenever you say you're staying here... It makes it seem like you won't leave. But that can't be true, can it?" My words hang in the air, heavy and uncertain. It's hard to ignore the way my heart quickens at the thought of him leaving, taking the newfound brightness from our lives.
"Eventually, you'll go back to Boston." I say it like it's a fact, like the sun rising and setting, because isn't it? Isn't that what always happens in the end?
"Is that what you think?" He steps closer, the blue in his eyes darkening like the twilight sky. "That I'll just walk away?"
"Isn't that the pattern?" I challenge softly, looking up at him. There's a vulnerability in my voice I can't hide.
"Patterns can be broken, Avery." His words are a whisper, a secret shared between us.
"Can they?" I want to believe him, more than anything.
Victor's gaze locks onto mine, and I see something there, a determination that wasn't present before. He takes a deep breath, like he's about to dive into unknown waters.
"Actually, I was going to wait to ask you this, but—" he stops, swallows hard, "I've realized that I don't want to live a life without you and Olivia in it. Not anymore."
My heart stutters, skips a beat. "What are you saying?" The furrow in my brow deepens as I try to decipher his meaning.
He steps closer, the intensity in his eyes undeniable. "I want us to be a family, Avery. Officially." His voice is steady, sure.
"A family?" The word echoes around us, a concept so full of implications that my mind races to catch up. "What does that even mean for you?"
"It means whatever you want it to mean," he says softly, reaching out to touch my hand. "But for me, it's simple. It means we're always together. A team, a unit... a family."
The idea hangs in the air, beautiful and terrifying all at once. Victor continues before I can respond, "I want you and Olivia to come back to Boston with me. Permanently. Once everything here is... finished."
I shake my head, not out of refusal but from the sudden rush of emotions that hit me like a tidal wave. The doubt, the confusion—it's overwhelming. "Our lives are here, Victor. Olivia's school, my friends..." I trail off, memories of past mistakes clawing their way to the surface. "I moved cities once for someone. It was the biggest mistake of my life."
"Hey," he says softly, cupping my face to make me look at him, "I'm not him. And this isn't the same. We have something real, something worth taking risks for." But I can't shake the feeling of groundlessness, the fear of uprooting our lives on a promise that feels as fragile as ice on a spring pond.
"Can we really just leave everything behind?" My voice is barely above a whisper, the words filled with an ache that I can't fully understand.
Victor's hand is warm against my cheek, his thumb brushing away the worry lines that have etched themselves deep into my forehead. "You don't have to decide anything right now," he says, his voice soothing and steady. "I didn't mean to spring this on you or pressure you. I just... I needed you to know what I was thinking."
"Thank you," I whisper, and then I'm leaning in, pressing my lips to his, finding solace in the firmness of his mouth against mine. It's a deep kiss, one that speaks of possibilities and fears alike. When we part, there's an unsaid understanding in his blue eyes, a promise that no matter how twisted my insides feel, he's here.
"Okay," I manage to say, pulling back slightly, trying to anchor myself to the moment rather than the storm of thoughts in my head.
He gives me a small smile, one that doesn't quite reach his eyes, as if he too is wrestling with his own demons. "I should head out. Got a mountain of work to catch up on." He steps back, running a hand through his dark hair, leaving it in disheveled spikes.
"Will I see you at practice tomorrow?" His question sounds hopeful, but there's an edge to it, like he knows the balance between us is delicate.
"Of course," I reply, my heart giving a little leap at the thought of tomorrow, at the normalcy it promises.
"Goodbye, Olivia!" he calls out toward her room, his voice carrying warmth and a hint of reluctance to leave.
"Bye, Victor!" Her muffled reply comes from somewhere within the depths of her sanctuary, probably without a glance away from her game screen .
Then Victor is stepping through the front door, the cool air outside sweeping in to fill the void he leaves behind. I stand there, my fingers touching my lips which still tingle from his kiss, the weight of his confession pressing down on me. It's just me now, sorting through the tangled mess of what-ifs and maybes that Victor has left in his wake.