Chapter 31 Eleanor #2
“And my sister . . . ” I let out a humorless laugh. “Stacey became her perfect little disciple. Thin and polished and obedient. I could never be that. I didn’t even want to be that.”
Alex didn’t rush me. Didn’t talk over me. Just listened.
“And when Ethan died,” I continued, voice wavering, “I fell apart. Completely. I was grieving him, grieving the future we’d built, and trying to help Ava survive a world that makes no sense to her sometimes.
And I kept getting everything wrong. Her routines went out the window.
Her emotions were all over the place. And I was so scared of becoming like my mother.
Of making life harder, but it all got harder regardless. I couldn't do it on my own.”
I blinked hard, breath catching. Alex’s hand pressed more firmly, but still so gently.
“I didn’t know how to help her. I didn’t know how to help myself.
Plus, every drop of creativity dried up overnight, which meant I wasn’t in the space to write more books, which was my only income left.
So when my mom offered for us to move back .
. . I felt like I had no choice. But it’s just—” I shook my head.
“—every day is a reminder of everything I’m not.
Not only that, but I put Ava right into the exact situation I was afraid of recreating. It's all such a mess.”
Silence wrapped around us, but it wasn’t heavy. It was safe.
He shifted closer, just enough that our shoulders touched lightly. “Eleanor,” he said softly, “you’re doing everything you can. You’re raising an incredible kid. And you’re allowed to fall apart. You’re allowed to need help.”
My throat tightened.
His voice dropped even lower, rough with sincerity. “And you don’t have to do any of this alone anymore.”
He didn’t move. Didn’t try to fix anything. Didn’t try to make it neat or small.
He just stayed there with a warm palm on my back. The steady presence at my side.
I let out a shaky breath, staring down at my hands for a moment before forcing myself to look back at him. “I’m so glad I found this community,” I murmured. “The Penguin Project. The rink. The Reapers. All these people who just . . . take us as we are.”
Alex’s expression softened. His thumb paused mid-circle on my back.
“It’s been so good for Ava,” I said, voice thickening. “She’s happier than she’s been in a long time. She belongs in a way I’ve never seen before.”
I swallowed, heat prickling behind my eyes.
“And it’s been good for me too.”
His brows lifted gently, silently asking me to go on.
I met his gaze head-on. No shrinking. No apologizing for wanting something.
“It’s been great for me,” I said. “I feel like . . . like I can finally see myself here. Not just surviving. But belonging.”
Something flickered in his eyes, surprise, tenderness, a spark of heat that went straight to my heart.
Alex shifted closer, slow and deliberate, as if giving me every opportunity to pull away. When I didn’t, when I leaned in without meaning to, he lifted a hand and cupped my cheek.
His palm was warm. Steady. Reverent.
“Eleanor,” he whispered, voice low and sure, “I see a place here for you too.”
My breath caught.
His thumb brushed my cheekbone. I tilted into it like I’d been waiting my entire life for this exact touch.
“You do?”
“Of course I do. And I’m really sorry about what happened at the show. I think I probably could have handled it differently. I hope it doesn’t make it worse for you.”
I gave a rough chuckle. “I’m sure you did nothing wrong, and I’m equally sure I will hear about it tomorrow at brunch.” I buried my face in my hands. “Gah! Brunch tomorrow with them and Ava. God help me.”
“Do you want me to come with you?”
I shot up and looked at him. “No.”
His brow furrowed, “Okay.”
I immediately grabbed his hands. “I mean, yes, I want you there, but I need to deal with this.”
“I get it.”
I reached up and cupped his scruffy cheek. “I really like you, Alex. And I need to fix this before I bring you into it. I hope that makes sense.”
He turned his face and kissed my palm. “It does, I just want you to know I’m here for you.”
“I do. And it helps more than you know.” I leaned over and kissed him.
I found myself wanting to get lost in the kiss, but I had to ask.
“What did Belle say anyway?”
He chuckled and rubbed the back of his neck. “Well . . . she may have told them that we are getting REALLY friendly. And went on for a good couple of sentences before Mel got her to shut up.”
“Yeah, that sounds about right,” said with a small chuckle as I ran my hand through my hair.
“God, you’re so beautiful,” he said.
“Shut up,” I said, hitting his leg.
“I mean it, you can try and shut me up all you want, but you can’t change the truth.”
And then, because the moment demanded it, because my body screamed for it, because everything in him was calling to me, I closed the space between us and kissed him.
When we finally parted, breath mingling in the small space between us, he rested his forehead against mine. His voice was a quiet rumble.
“We probably shouldn’t . . . disappear too long,” I said.
“Probably not, but it needs to be noted. I'm the king of the cast party, making out with the prettiest girl here.”
“You’re ridiculous,” I said, laughing at him, finally letting go of all the tension.
“Should we head back?”
“Let’s go.”
But neither of us moved. We waited just a few more minutes, basking in the spark of whatever was igniting between us.