13. Kate #2
Emily nudges me a little closer, the friendly kind of shove I’ve seen people usually reserve for friends.
“Kate, this is Ava,” she says, her voice light but threaded with affection. “She owns the coffee shop I basically pay rent at.” Then she tips her chin toward the man beside her. “And that’s her husband, Connor. He runs this place.”
Ava’s hand reaches out toward mine, her grip warm and steady. Her smile is kind and makes me feel welcome without trying too hard.
“Finally,” she says, with a small laugh. “I’ve heard so much about you from Rachel and Emily; I was starting to think you were a myth.”
She glances toward the play area, her smile softening when her gaze lands on Parker. “I haven’t had the chance to meet you, but I’ve met Parker. I think my daughter’s already claimed him as her newest best friend.”
I blink, caught off guard by the kindness in her voice. “It’s very nice to meet you.”
My gaze drifts back to the play area, to the little girl with a mop of wild curls and a laugh so bright it feels like sunlight cutting straight through the noise of the room.
She’s now crouched on the playmat, holding up a plastic triceratops to Parker, who looks lighter, freer, than I’ve seen him in days.
His cheeks are flushed, eyes shining, and that unfiltered, all-teeth Parker grin spreads across his face like he hasn’t a care in the world.
Something relaxes in me as I watch him. I know he misses Noah and Blaze, but there was nothing I could do about it.
Emily’s voice softens beside me. “She’s been glued to him since the second they met. Parker’s got good taste.”
Emily’s fingers brush against my elbow, giving a gentle nudge. “Come on,” she murmurs. “Let’s get you stretched out.”
I let her steer me away from Ava and Connor and toward the stack of yoga mats spread near the wide windows. My legs feel like jelly by the time I sink onto one, the floor cool beneath me, the sun-warmed air brushing over my damp skin.
Emily flops down beside me, stretching her long legs out in front of her with a content little sigh. The entire gym setup makes me wonder why I haven’t come here sooner.
“Kate.”
I glance up, and there’s Rachel, striding toward us with that knowing look that could peel back a layer of skin if she wanted it to. Her sharpness softens the moment her eyes lock onto mine, her smile faltering.
She doesn’t bother with pleasantries. She just kneels down on the mat across from me, her brow furrowed. “What’s wrong?”
The question sneaks through whatever wall I’ve built around myself. My throat tightens and burns, tears prickling hot behind my eyes before I even have the chance to blink them away. I squeeze my eyes shut for a moment, trying to push the feeling back down, but the crack’s already split wide open.
“Oh dear,” Rachel says, scooting closer, her arm finding my back without hesitation, and Rachel reaches for my hand.
“I knew something was wrong,” Emily says as she squeezes my hand. No words, just warmth, their quiet strength bracketing me.
When I finally manage to breathe, the tears have already betrayed me, sliding hot and unchecked down my cheeks.
I swipe at them with the back of my hand, frustrated and embarrassed all at once.
I’m not the crying type, and definitely not in public, surrounded by women I’ve only just begun calling friends.
Rachel’s voice softens, threading through the noise of the gym like a lifeline. “Kate... hey.” She shifts in closer, her sharp edges blunted by concern. “What’s going on?”
I press my lips together, swallowing past the knot wedged in my throat. “It’s nothing. I’m just...tired.”
Emily’s hand squeezes my shoulder, gentle but firm. “It’s not nothing,” she says, her voice as steady as her hand. “You don’t run yourself into the ground like that over a bad night’s sleep.”
Rachel’s gaze doesn’t waver. “Is it Parker? Your family? Work?” She ticks off each question like she’s trying to narrow it down, her tone more mothering than nosy.
The words won’t come. I open my mouth, then close it again, the truth stuck somewhere between breath and nerve.
Emily gives me a sideways nudge. “If it’s a man,” she murmurs lightly, “blink twice. We’ll handle the rest.”
A shaky laugh scrapes out of me, watery and dry. I blink once, then again, slowly and intentionally.
Rachel lets out a soft, knowing sigh. “I figured.” She tilts her head, waiting. “Noah?”
I hesitate, the name balanced on the tip of my tongue. Saying it out loud makes it real and more foolish, somehow.
But I can’t hold it in anymore.
“Yes,” I whisper, barely more than a breath. “It’s Noah.”
Their faces don’t register shock, just quiet understanding, as though they’ve been suspecting that. Neither of them says a word, waiting for me to fill in the rest.
I rub my palms against my leggings, pressing down hard like I could scrub away the sting beneath my skin.
“We… slept together.” The confession leaves my mouth in a rush, and I glance away, heat blooming across my cheeks.
“And I haven’t seen him since. Five days. Nothing. Like it never even happened.”
Silence folds around us, but it’s not uncomfortable. It’s heavy, the air suddenly growing dense.
Emily’s gaze flicks to Rachel, and they trade a look I can’t quite decipher. Some silent exchange, a conversation stitched between glances that leaves me feeling both seen and shut out.
Rachel leans in, her voice steady but softer than I’ve ever heard it. “Kate… Noah’s not the type to mess around. If he’s keeping his distance, there’s a reason. It’s not about you.”
Emily nods, her hand tightening on mine. “He’s not the hit-it-and-quit-it kind. Trust me. Just give him time.”
Emily’s hand lingers on mine for a moment longer, her thumb giving one last squeeze before she eases back, her voice lifting, casual and breezy, like flipping a switch. “Speaking of giving things time... have you heard about the fundraiser for the fire station? It’s tonight.”
“You’re coming, right?” Rachel backs her up.
The shift catches me off guard. I blink, trying to chase away the last of the tears clinging stubbornly to my lashes. “Fundraiser?” I repeat, my voice hoarse.
Why do I have the feeling that they are intentionally changing the subject?
Emily nods, her ponytail bouncing beneath her cap. “Yeah, over at The Harbor Hall. Someone must have mentioned it, right?”
Lillian had - in that distracted, offhand way she tends to do- somewhere between listing art supplies and Parker’s upcoming class project. I hadn’t thought much of it at the time. Barely registered it, really.
My mind’s been too busy elsewhere. I’m already shaking my head when Rachel’s voice cuts in, firmer, leaving no room for argument.
“You’re coming.” Her tone isn’t unkind, just matter-of-fact. Like the decision’s already been made, and I’m the last one to catch up.
I let out a soft, uncertain laugh. “I don’t know. I’ve got Parker—”
Emily waves away the excuse before I can finish. “Connor’s on babysitting duty. He, Siobhan, and Maddox will be here anyway, watching the kids while we are at the fundraiser. Parker will be in good hands. Siobhan loves him, apparently. You don’t have to worry.”
I hesitate, another excuse bubbling up. I’m trying to think of every reason to stay home and wallow in the mess of my own head. “I don’t have anything to wear,” I add weakly because it’s the only excuse left standing.
But Emily and Rachel exchange another one of those looks, one that says I’ve walked straight into a trap.
Rachel arches a brow, her mouth curving into a slow, knowing smile. “Well, that sounds like the perfect excuse for some shopping therapy.”
Emily laughs, nudging my side. “Exactly. We’ve got a few hours. Come on, Kate. You’ve earned a night out.”
Their persistence isn’t pushy, just... stubbornly kind. And beneath it, something inside me softens, and some thread of loneliness pulls tight, then loosens as the thought settles.
A night out. A room full of people. A chance to stop thinking. Even if only for a while.
I let out a breath and nod, slow but certain this time. “Okay. I’ll go.”
Rachel grins, looping her arm through mine like the deal’s already sealed. “Good. Trust me, you won’t regret it.”
But as we gather our things and head toward the locker room, a single thought tugs quietly at the edges of my mind, insistent, stubborn, and impossible to ignore.
If it’s the fire station fundraiser, Noah will be there.
And I’m not sure if I’m ready to see him.
Or if I ever was.
But I also can’t put my life on pause because of him, can I?