Chapter 52
Chapter Fifty-Two
Alec
Around six o’clock, Mara falls asleep.
Her face is pale, the exhaustion pulling at her features in a way that makes her look breakable. I sit with her longer than I need to—watching her chest rise and fall, watching her hold on even in sleep like the truth might rip her awake again.
Once I’m sure she’s out, I leave her bedroom, and of course that’s when the phone rings—and it’s her mom.
I offer to buy her a plane ticket for next week.
It’s the right thing to do. The responsible thing.
She’ll wait until she’s here to talk to Mara.
I’m giving them time to settle their feelings while Laura is preparing for her trip.
So this whole thing about leaving before I forget how to breathe without her is not gonna happen, like ever, and I’m committed to wait until it’s my turn. My feelings can be in the background while she heals. I’m a patient man and I’m definitely not going anywhere. Not today and maybe not ever.
All this probably happened the moment she let herself fall apart in my arms. The change was irreversible. I need her as much as I want her to need me. For now, it’ll be best if I’m proactive and have everything that she might need even if she doesn’t ask for it.
“Too fucking early,” Eddie mutters when he picks up.
“Yes, but Mara found out that my neighbor was her birth mother.” I sigh, not sure if this is something I’d be discussing with him, but also knowing that I need him to do me a favor.
“Yeah. I remember.”
“You knew?” I glance at the phone and then set it back to my ear.
“I told you I was going to run a background check on her aunt.” He yawns like we’re discussing car maintenance. “Then told you there was a lot but since there’s the fucking will and the boxes—”
“You also knew about that?”
He groans. “I’m thorough, Alec. You asked, and I delivered, of course.”
“I see, but . . . you never told me that she was her biological mother and not her aunt,” I remind him. “You could’ve warned me.”
He scoffs. “You didn’t want to be warned, Alec. You wanted to be gone. I wasn’t going to give you yet another reason to leave.”
I drag a hand down my face. “Fine. Do you have anything on her birth father? Thomas Walls?”
“He was a POW, they found him after ten years,” he states. “He runs an animal shelter in Vermont now.”
Well, that’s good and fucked up because things might’ve been different if he had appeared. At least for him and Lina . . . probably. “So, he has a wife, kids, grandkids?”
“Nope. Alone. No known family. Doesn’t talk to many people. Spends his time with rescues.”
That’s not exactly what I expected. Sounds a lot like me, what I would end up doing—without the animals—if I didn’t have the people who surrounded me and now Mara. “She might want to see him.”
“Do you want me to reach out?”
“I think we should wait until she’s ready.” I pause. “But yeah. Start looking into it.”
Eddie is silent for a second, then his tone shifts. “You okay?”
I want to say yes. I want to pretend I’ve got this under control. That I’m just helping. That it doesn’t feel like more.
But it is more. It’s her.
And suddenly, I’m the guy staying up making lists of what she might need next. Buying plane tickets for her mother. Planning trips to meet a father she never knew. Staying. Choosing her. Every single second I get.
“You’re too quiet,” he says, concerned. “Talk to me, big guy.”
“Just wondering if I’m going to need more . . . for her,” I mutter, mostly to myself.
“Either one of you need anything, and you reach out to me,” he says. “I’m here for you, okay?”
“You don’t have to worry,” I say because he’s not responsible for me.
Eddie sighs. “I’ll be out this weekend, but if you need anything, call me. Or I’ll have the Wilders check in—”
“I don’t need a fucking Wilder babysitter,” I snap, but my voice is soft.
“You sure? Because you’re talking like a man who’s about to sign up for forever.”
I glance toward the room where she’s sleeping. My chest tightens—something raw and hopeful and terrifying all at once.
“What if I call if I need anything?” I offer. “And you hold off on the Wilders?”
There’s a beat of silence. Then, Eddie says, “That . . . I might take into consideration.”
A small smile tugs at my mouth. “Thanks for always being here,” I murmur, then end the call before either of us can make it more emotional than it already is.
The line disconnects just as the bedroom door creaks open.
Mila steps into the hallway, messy hair, sleepy eyes, a pink unicorn sock only halfway on. She blinks up at me, suspicious and wide awake in the way only kids can manage before seven a.m.
“You’re here early,” she says, narrowing her eyes. “Unless . . . you never left.”
I clear my throat. “Morning, Mila.”
She crosses her arms. “Are you staying with us forever?”
My heart stumbles over the question.
I want to say yes. Fuck, do I want to say yes.
But the timing isn’t right. Not when Mara’s barely holding herself together.
So I crouch to her level, meeting her gaze. “Let’s make breakfast,” I say gently. “Then you can start interrogating me.”
She considers it. “After your coffee?”
“Exactly. After my coffee.”
“Fine,” she declares dramatically, spinning on her heel. “I’ll let your chakras adjust first.”
I bite back a laugh as I follow her to the kitchen. Because somehow, even in the middle of a storm, this kid finds a way to let in the light.
And maybe—if I’m lucky—I’ll be part of that light too.