Chapter 49
Jake
I pull up outside Jenny’s mom’s house. It’s dark inside, but I’m relieved to see smoke rising from the chimney. I’m holding on to this thread of hope that I’ll be able to get through to Adele, and then I’ll make it to Kelly at her apartment before the next storm hits. But I’m running out of time.
I close my eyes, a memory washing over me. I watched her go once before, the winter sun catching in the shine of her dark hair as it whipped in the breeze, her shoulders hunched, her hand wiping at her eyes.
That day I ended things after I found out about Jenny, the pain made it hard to breathe, made it hard to do anything. I wanted to run after her, to tell her that I didn’t mean it, that I’d give anything to hold her, to keep her beside me forever. But I couldn’t. I couldn’t let her get tangled up in a baby for fuck’s sake. We’d just finished high school.
She deserved better than that, better than me. Kelly had her whole future in front of her—college, career, every dream she’d ever talked about with her Mom looking on proudly, and she deserved to chase them without me and my mistakes.
And Jenny—she was pregnant with my child. I couldn’t walk away from that, couldn’t let my own kid grow up without me there, wondering why I hadn’t stuck around. My dad taught me better than that. Responsibility meant something. Following through. Even if it meant letting go of the best damn thing that had ever happened to me.
As I watched Kelly disappear down the path leading away from the lighthouse all those years ago, my stomach twisted, my heart breaking clean in two. The pain was physical, a gnawing, relentless hurt that wouldn’t let go. I was being gutted from the inside out.
And that feeling is back, just as raw and intense as it was the first time. My eyes blink open and I tell myself to get a fucking grip, to stop wallowing and get inside and see my daughter.
Before I can even knock, the door swings open, and Jenny’s mom stands there, giving me a sympathetic look. Her eyes are tired, and she’s rugged up in winter clothes.
“Hey, Jake,” she says quietly. “Quite the storm. You and the Valiant Hearts did a great job yesterday. Come on in.”
I swallow hard. “Thanks, Nancy.”
I shed my jacket, gloves, beanie and boots and leave them by the front door. Inside the darkened house, Jenny’s waiting, arms crossed, worry written all over her face. She meets my eye, nodding briefly.
“I appreciate you coming given the storm. I wanted Adele to know we both support her. I hoped things would calm down, but it looks as though the principal shared the screenshots with one of the parents, and they told their kids that we were the ones that reported it. There’s a lot of online abuse coming her way, but they’re talking about her without naming her, calling her fat, ugly, and worse. I’ve taken her phone away but she’s distraught.”
I grit my teeth. “I thought this was going to end when the principal got involved.”
Jenny’s mouth thins, her eyes flashing. “We’re fighting shadows. They just keep finding ways to hurt her, and Adele thinks no one understands. I tried to comfort her, but she needs her dad.”
“Thanks for calling me. Let me try to talk to her.”
I step into the living room, and the sight of Adele curled up on the couch, sobbing, almost undoes me. I kneel down beside her, keeping my voice soft. “Hey, sweetheart. I’m here.”
Adele barely looks up, her face red and blotchy, eyes swollen. “Dad, just don’t,” she manages, voice thick with tears. She buries her face back in the pillow. “It doesn’t matter.”
“Of course it matters. Please, tell me what I can do.”
She shakes her head, clutching the pillow. “You don’t get it, Dad. You can’t fix it. It’s everywhere. Everyone at school is talking about me on chat.” Her voice catches, and she sounds so broken, so hurt.
I grit my teeth, anger flaring. “This isn’t right. We’ll go back to the principal. I’ll go to the school board if we have to. They can’t just let this go on.”
“Just stop!” She shouts the words, the intensity of her anger taking me by surprise. “I don’t need you to do anything.”
A heaviness settles in my chest as I remain kneeling. She wipes her eyes, her face still streaked with tears. Outside, the storm continues to intensify.
And it hits me what a failure I’ve been.
I really don’t know how to be what she needs. What Kelly needs. What anyone needs. I’ve tried, but that’s not good enough. Adele and Kelly both deserve someone stronger. Someone who gets it. Someone who is capable and can actually sort through all this shit. Because I’m failing Adele, just like I’m failing Kelly.
I hit rock bottom and let myself sit there for a moment, before rallying again. The thought of losing Kelly again hurts worse than anything I can imagine. I never thought I’d get another chance with her. And I got that chance.
I may be an imperfect man. But I can’t give up on the woman I love, on my daughter.
I’d take my last breath, walk through fire for them if needed. The problem is, I just don’t know what to do.
As I look at Adele, Kelly’s words come rushing back. About how Adele needs me to be there, to really be there—not as the fixer, the problem-solver, but as her dad, someone who’ll listen without judgment, without needing to make everything right.
The truth hits me: I’ve been so focused on protecting Adele, on fighting every battle for her, that I never stopped to ask if that’s what she needed. I remember Kelly’s voice saying sometimes just being there is enough.
Maybe that’s all Adele and Kelly have been asking for—someone who’ll sit with them in the mess, not try to clean it up. The walls I’ve built around this idea of being strong crack wide open, and I see with startling clarity that strength might mean standing by their sides, quietly, patiently, and letting them feel what they need to feel.
Adele is staring at me, and I swallow the lump in my throat. “What do you need from me right now? I’m not trying to fix anything. I just want to be here for you.”
She sniffles, her eyes wary. “You want to make it all go away, but that doesn’t help. I just want you to, like, sit with me.”
“You’re right, I did want to fix it. But I can sit here, too. I can listen.”
She glances up, hesitating. “Whenever I tell you something hurts or that things are bad, you always jump in and say, let me fix it, let me make it right. But sometimes I don’t need that. I just need to feel bad for a while and know you’re okay with it. That it’s okay for me to be, I don’t know, messed up.”
I nod slowly. “So, you don’t want a solution right away. Or maybe even at all. You just want me to sit with you. Let you be you, even if it’s messy. Is that it?”
Her shoulders relax a little. “Yeah. Sometimes I just need you . Maybe make a stupid joke. But no advice.”
“Okay,” I say quietly, forcing myself to sit with that, to let her take the lead. It’s a little foreign, but something about it seems right.
“I’m sorry I’ve been getting it so wrong, sweetheart. I didn’t mean to make you feel as though your emotions are wrong or that they need to be fixed. I’ll do better. I’ll try.”
She watches me for a moment, and something softens in her eyes. She gives a nod.
This is so strange and so new. But I can do this, because I love her.
Her hand reaches out to give mine a small squeeze. In this moment, holding space for her pain, I finally get what she’s been trying to tell me all along.
It’s what my dad could never give my mom, give any of us.
And the realization settles deeper than I could’ve imagined, hitting me with the force of something long overdue. It’s not just Adele and Kelly I’ve been trying to fix. It’s everyone around me—always trying to be the strong one, the solver of problems, the steady, reliable one.
But in doing that, maybe I’ve missed what people really need from me: the patience to understand their pain, to see them as they are, instead of who I want them to be.
And then I see Kelly’s face so clearly, her hurt, her walls coming up to protect herself from the weight of expectations— even mine . Maybe all she’s needed all along was for me to just see her, without pushing to fix whatever issue she’s going through.
New resolve rushes through me. I won’t let her walk away because I didn’t get it before. I want her—all of her.
“Adele,” I say, squeezing her hand again, “thank you. You really helped me see things clearer today. I promise, I’m going to do better.”
Outside, the light shifts, darkening, and a new kind of urgency builds inside. I need to get back to Kelly. The minute Adele’s okay, I’m going to find her. And this time, I’ll show her that no storm, no broken pieces, are going to change how much she means to me.
Adele is studying me with a seriousness that catches me off guard. “Dad, are you okay?”
I blink, momentarily at a loss. When did she start checking up on me? I clear my throat. “Yeah, sweetheart. I’m fine.” But even as the words leave my mouth, I can tell she sees right through them.
She frowns, her eyes narrowing slightly. “You don’t look fine. Is it about Kelly? Did you find her?” She hesitates but then keeps going, her voice softer. “Did something happen between you two?”
“Yeah, something did. Things are complicated right now. Kelly, she, uh, she just wants some space.”
Adele stares at me, her expression caught somewhere between shock and sympathy. “And you just left her?”
Her question hits me, but there’s no edge in her voice—just genuine curiosity, and maybe even a little challenge. “It wasn’t exactly up to me. She thinks she’s better off alone. But I plan to go and see her as soon as you’re okay.”
Adele folds her arms, giving me a look that’s somehow way beyond her years. “Dad, are you seriously just sitting here being sorry for yourself when you should be finding Kelly. I like her. She’s good for you. And she obviously cares about you. So, go do something about it.”
She shifts closer, giving me a nudge. “I’m okay, really. I mean, I’m not , but I will be, and I don’t need you to sit here with me anymore. You can go.”
I shake my head. “When did you get so wise?”
She leans in for a hug. “I’m growing up, you know.”
I wrap my arms around her, holding her close. “You’re not just growing up—you’re turning into an incredible, smart, beautiful young woman. I’m so proud of you.”
She hugs me once more, and I get to my feet, not wanting to waste any more time. A few minutes later, I’m back in the truck and checking the weather app. There’s still half an hour till the storm hits in full, and I head straight to Kelly and Nora’s apartment, the snow thickening around me as I drive.
My mind keeps spinning between Kelly’s face when she told me it was over and Adele’s words, telling me not to give up.
By the time I pull up outside their place, the snow’s coming down in thick, heavy sheets. I go upstairs and knock on the door, and Nora answers almost immediately, Kelly’s name dying on her lips.
She glances behind me. “Where’s Kelly?”
“She said she was coming home.”
“I haven’t seen her since she left this morning.”
Her words knock all the air out of me. “You’re sure?”
“Of course I’m sure.”
“I’ll find her.” Without another word, I turn and head back to the truck, not even bothering to brush the snow off my hair and jacket before climbing inside.
She’s out there, alone in this. I’ve already lost her once; I can’t lose her again.
The engine roars to life, and I grip the wheel, a single thought propelling me forward: Find her.