9. Summer
9
SUMMER
T he soft hum of the car engine filled the silence as we drove back to my place. Ava was fast asleep in the backseat, her head tilted to one side, Bunny tucked securely under her arm. The gentle rise and fall of her chest were a comforting rhythm, one that soothed some of the tension still gripping me after the dinner at Enzo’s parents’ house.
“You’re quiet,” Enzo said, breaking the silence.
I glanced at him, his profile lit faintly by the glow of the dashboard. “Just tired.”
He nodded, his grip on the steering wheel relaxing. “They liked you, you know.”
“Your family?” I asked, arching a brow.
“Yeah,” he said. “They’re just… curious. That’s how they are. But they meant it when they said Ava is amazing. They think you are, too.”
I let out a soft sigh, leaning back in my seat. “I’m not sure I gave them much to go on. I spent most of dinner trying to dodge questions about Ava’s father.”
Enzo’s jaw tightened slightly, but he kept his eyes on the road. “That’s not what matters to them. They care that Ava’s happy and healthy. And they see how much you’ve done for her.”
I looked down at my hands, twisting my fingers together. “I’ve tried,” I said softly. “But sometimes I feel like it’s never enough. Especially now, with everything that’s happening.”
Enzo didn’t respond right away, but I could feel his gaze flicker toward me briefly before returning to the road.
By the time we got to my apartment, Ava was still fast asleep. Enzo carried her inside, his movements careful and deliberate. Watching him handle her so gently made something in my chest ache—a mix of gratitude and guilt that I couldn’t quite sort out.
“She’s out cold,” he said quietly, laying her down on the couch and tucking a blanket around her.
“She always sleeps hard after a big day,” I said, smiling faintly as I brushed a strand of hair from her face.
Enzo straightened, his eyes lingering on Ava for a moment before turning to me. “Do you have a minute to talk?”
I hesitated, but then nodded. “Sure.”
We moved to the small kitchen, where I filled the kettle and set it on the stove. The sound of water heating filled the space as I turned to face him.
“What’s on your mind?” I asked.
Enzo leaned against the counter, crossing his arms. “I’ve been thinking about Ava’s surgery,” he said, his voice steady but serious. “And about what comes after.”
“What do you mean?” I asked, my stomach tightening slightly.
“The surgery is just the first step,” he said. “It’ll fix her knee, but the recovery process is just as important. Physical therapy, regular check-ups—it’s going to take time and effort to get her back to full strength.”
I nodded slowly, the weight of his words settling over me. “I know. I’ve been trying to prepare myself for it, but it’s hard to think about everything at once.”
“That’s why I want to help,” he said, his gaze meeting mine.
“You already are,” I said quickly.
“Not just with the surgery,” he said, his voice firm. “I mean the whole process. I want to be there for Ava—for you—every step of the way.”
His words caught me off guard, and I looked away, focusing on the kettle as it began to whistle. “That’s… a lot to promise, Enzo.”
“I know,” he said. “But I mean it.”
I poured the hot water into two mugs, my hands trembling slightly as I set them on the counter. “Why?”
“Because I care about Ava,” he said simply. “And because I care about you.”
I felt my breath hitch, and I turned to face him fully. “Enzo…”
“I know you don’t need me,” he said quickly, holding up a hand. “You’ve proven that a hundred times over. But that doesn’t mean you have to do this alone. Ava deserves to have as much support as possible, and so do you.”
His words were so earnest, so full of conviction, that they made my chest tighten. “You’ve already done so much for us,” I said softly. “I don’t want to take advantage of you.”
“You’re not,” he said firmly. “This isn’t about obligation, Summer. This is about making sure Ava gets everything she needs to recover fully. If I can help with that, then I will. No strings attached.”
I studied him, searching his face for any hint of hesitation or ulterior motive. But all I saw was sincerity—and it made my walls begin to crumble.
We sat at the small kitchen table, our mugs untouched between us. Enzo leaned forward slightly, his voice steady but gentle.
“I’ve worked with so many families over the years,” he said. “And I’ve seen how hard recovery can be—physically, emotionally, financially. It’s not something anyone should have to handle alone. And Ava’s not just another patient to me.”
“She’s special,” I said quietly.
“She is,” he agreed. “But she’s not the only one. You’re special, too, Summer. The way you’ve fought for her, the way you’ve handled everything on your own—it’s incredible. But even the strongest people need help sometimes.”
His words brought a lump to my throat, and I looked down at my hands. “I don’t know how to let someone help me,” I admitted.
“Start small,” he said with a faint smile. “Let me be there for Ava’s therapy sessions. Let me take her to a follow-up appointment. Let me carry some of the weight.”
I hesitated, the idea both comforting and terrifying. “What if…”
“What if what?” he prompted gently.
“What if I let you in, and it makes things harder?” I said, my voice barely above a whisper.
“It won’t,” he said firmly. “We’ll figure it out. Together.”
The way he said it—like it was a given, like there was no room for doubt—made me want to believe him.
The sound of Ava stirring in the other room broke the moment, and I quickly stood, moving to check on her. She blinked up at me sleepily, a soft smile spreading across her face.
“Hi, Mommy,” she murmured, rubbing her eyes.
“Hi, sweetheart,” I said, brushing her hair back. “Did you have a good nap?”
She nodded, her gaze shifting to Enzo as he approached. “Hi, Dr. Pearson.”
“Hi, Ava,” he said, crouching beside her. “You ready to get back to your own bed?”
She nodded again, and I scooped her up, feeling the familiar warmth of her small body against mine.
Enzo followed us to her room, leaning against the doorframe as I tucked her in.
“Goodnight, Bunny,” Ava said, hugging her stuffed animal. “Goodnight, Mommy. Goodnight, Dr. Pearson.”
“Goodnight, Ava,” he said softly.
I kissed her forehead and turned off the light, closing the door behind us.
Back in the living room, Enzo turned to me, his expression serious. “Think about what I said, okay?”
“I will,” I said honestly.
He nodded, giving me a small smile. “Goodnight, Summer.”
“Goodnight, Enzo,” I said, watching as he left.
As the door clicked shut, I leaned against it, exhaling slowly. For the first time in a long time, I felt like maybe—just maybe—I didn’t have to do this alone.