24. Erik
The text comes while I’m pushing a Caesar salad around my plate, listening to Sara outline our litigation strategy against Wallace.
My phone buzzes against the white tablecloth. I glance at it automatically—I’ve been glancing at it for weeks, hoping for exactly this—and then I freeze.
Unknown Number: It’s Nolan. I’m back in the city for a few days. I’m willing to talk if you still want to.
The restaurant noise fades to static. I read the message again, certain I’m hallucinating. My exhausted brain is playing a cruel on me.
“Erik?” Anna’s voice cuts through the fog. “You okay?”
I turn the phone toward her.
Anna’s eyes go wide. Sara leans over to read, her fork suspended halfway to her mouth.
“Holy shit,” Anna breathes. “He texted. He actually texted.”
“What are you going to say?” Sara asks, already in strategic mode. “We should probably discuss the approach. Given the complexity of the situation, you’ll want to—”
“No.” Anna holds up a hand, cutting her off. “Absolutely not. Erik is not getting his lawyer involved this time.”
Sara laughs. “Good point.”
I look over at Anna and try to look like I wasn’t going to say the exact same thing that Sara was. I fail terribly.
“You were about to suggest exactly that. I know that expression.” Anna points her butter knife at me. “You needs to win back the man you love, and you need to do it without legal counsel present.”
“That’s not—” I stop. She’s not wrong. “Fine. No lawyers.”
My fingers are already moving over the screen, typing a response before I can overthink it.
I still want to. Name the time and place. I’ll be there.
The reply comes faster than I expected.
Ellie’s being discharged tomorrow for a day outing. Her first time outside in months. She wants to go to the ice rink in Riverside Park. 2pm. You could join us if you want.
I stare at the message. A day outing. With Ellie. In public.
It’s not what I’d hoped for. I’d imagined something private—just the two of us, somewhere quiet where we could actually talk. That way I can say all the things I’ve been rehearsing in my head for months. It’s not the kind of thing that needs an audience.
But I understand why he’s doing this. After everything I put him through, he doesn’t trust me. He wants his sister there as a buffer.
I don’t blame him. I hate it, but I don’t blame him.
I’d love that. I’ll be there.
“Well?” Anna demands. “What did he say?”
“He wants me to meet him tomorrow. At the ice rink.” I set my phone down carefully, like it might shatter. “With Ellie.”
Anna’s face softens. “That’s good, Erik. That’s really good. He’s giving you a chance.”
“He’s giving me a supervised visit.”
“Can you blame him?”
No. I can’t, but it still hurts, knowing how far we’ve fallen from those five days during his heat, when he’d curled into me like I was the only safe place in the world. Of course, it’s completely my fault and I know that.
I barely sleep that night. I lie in my bed and think about all the ways tomorrow could go wrong. He could change his mind.
I force myself to stop. Catastrophizing won’t help anyone.
The morning crawls by. I shower, shave, change clothes three times. Anna texts me a photo of herself giving a thumbs up with the caption YOU’VE GOT THIS. Sara sends a more restrained Good luck followed by Call me if you need anything.
I arrive at the ice rink twenty minutes early because I couldn’t stand waiting in my apartment any longer.
The first real cold snap of winter has hit the city, and the park is transformed.
The trees are bare and skeletal against a pale grey sky, breath visible in the air, everyone bundled in scarves and coats.
The ice rink is already busy with afternoon skaters.
I find a bench with a clear view of the entrance and sit down to wait. My heart is pounding so hard I can feel it in my throat.
At 2:07, I see them.
Ellie is walking, bundled up in a puffy coat and a bright red scarf that makes her look younger than her nineteen years. She’s laughing at something, her cheeks pink from the cold.
And beside her…
Nolan.
The air leaves my lungs.
He’s wrapped in a dark green coat that brings out his eyes, a grey scarf wound around his neck. His cheeks are flushed from the cold. His hair is longer than I remember, curling slightly at his temples.
And his stomach—
God. His stomach is visibly rounded now, the curve of it evident even under his coat. He’s carrying my child. Our child. The reality of it hits me fresh, stealing what’s left of my breath.
He’s beautiful. He’s always been beautiful, but there’s something about seeing him like this—healthy, glowing, growing our baby—that makes my heart stutter and stop.
Then he looks up and sees me.
Our eyes meet across the crowded park, and everything else disappears. The noise, the people, the cold—all of it fades until there’s nothing but him. Nothing but those green eyes and the electric current that’s hummed between us from the very first moment.
He doesn’t smile. Neither do I. We just stare at each other, frozen in place.
Then Ellie spots me and waves enthusiastically, breaking the spell.
“Erik! You came!”
I stand and cross to meet them. “I said I would.”
“I know, but—” She catches herself, glancing at her brother. Whatever she was going to say, she decides against it. “It’s good to see you.”
“You look wonderful.” I crouch down to her level, genuinely pleased by how much she’s improved. “How does it feel to be out?”
“Amazing. The hospital is great and all, but I was starting to forget what fresh air smelled like.” She grins up at Nolan. “Tell him about the time I tried to bribe the night nurse to wheel me outside.”
“She offered him her entire stash of contraband chocolate,” Nolan says. His voice is carefully neutral, but I catch the nerves underneath or maybe it’s just the same overwhelming awareness that’s making my skin feel too tight. “He turned her down.”
“He was very professional about it.” Ellie sighs dramatically. “No sense of adventure.”
I straighten and finally let myself look at Nolan properly. God, he’s beautiful.
“Nolan.”
“Erik.”
We stand there, ridiculous and awkward, neither of us sure what to say. All my rehearsed speeches have evaporated.
Ellie clears her throat loudly. “So. Ice skating. That’s still the plan, right? Because I didn’t get all bundled up like a marshmallow just to sit here and watch you two be weird at each other.”
The tension breaks. Nolan laughs and the sound hits me like a punch to the solar plexus.
“Yeah,” he says. “Still the plan. Come on, let’s get you some skates. Just remember the deal.”
“What’s the deal?” I ask.
Ellie rolls her eyes. “Well, he’s not going on the ice because he doesn’t want to risk falling with the baby and I’m not allowed on the ice on my own so he’s making me use one of the skating aids.
” She gestures with her head to the side of the rink.
The adult aids look like walking frames.
The children’s ones are shaped like penguins.
Nolan gives her a wry look. “We had quite the argument about it but then she pointed out that she’s been stuck in a hospital bed for months so I lost that argument. I think this is a decent compromise.”
I help her lace up her boots as Nolan watches, then the assistant helps her onto the ice, making sure she has a firm grip on the skating aid. She’s wobbly at first, but her face is determined.
“I used to be good at this,” she says, concentrating on her feet. “Before I got sick. Nolan and I would come here every winter.”
I glance at Nolan beside me. He’s standing by the railing, focused on Ellie, but there’s a soft smile on his face.
“We’d get hot chocolate afterward,” he says. “From that cart by the south entrance.”
“The one with the tiny marshmallows,” Ellie adds. “They never give you enough. You have to ask for extra.”
We make slow circles around the edge of the rink, Ellie moving in the rink and us beside her walking next to the railing.
“Can you skate?” she asks me.
“Badly.”
“Really? You actually do it yourself. I’d have bet you’d just pay people to do it for you,” she says but there’s a twinkle in her eye.
“Everything else,” I say. “Not this.”
“Erik’s been learning to cook,” Ellie says to Nolan, and my heart soars. Now, I know what’s happening here. She’s playing match maker. I have his sister’s approval. This means everything.
Apparently, Nolan gets the same message because he stops walking and stares at me.
“Really?”
“Really.” The cooking wasn’t a big deal or at least it didn’t feel like it. I don’t like feeling like I’m bad at something. “I even do my own dishes now too.”
He raises his eyebrows. “Really?” he says again, but this time there’s a definite tone of disbelief.
“Okay, sort of.” I admit. “I’ve been loading my own dishwasher. It counts.”
I thought I knew what I wanted from a marriage. Previously, when I thought about my omega, they were fairly faceless, just someone in the background, another part of my life like my job or my personal assistant or the board of directors: someone who fulfilled a role.
Now when I think about who my omega might be, all I can see is Nolan and even in my imagination, I can’t see him sitting quietly at home, politely folding my socks and picking up after me. At least not without an enormous argument where he tells me what a massive douche I am being.
Nolan stares at me. Then he takes a deep breath. “I think Ellie’s getting tired.”
“I am not—” Ellie starts, then catches something in her brother’s expression. “Actually, yeah. Maybe a little. We should probably head back.”
The walk back to the hospital is quieter.
Ellie walks the whole way, chattering about her plans for when she’s fully discharged—going back to school, getting her own apartment, all the things she’s been dreaming about during the long months of treatment.
I answer her questions and make appropriate noises, but most of my attention is on Nolan, walking beside us in silence.