Chapter Twenty-Five
Jamie
It was after one in the morning when I finally heard the car pull into the driveway.
I’d been restless, waiting for Dylan to arrive with Hunter, spending the past hour preparing Trina’s old room. But instead of easing my anxiety, it had unleashed an overwhelming sense of loss.
Trina and I were never close. A four year age difference and her relentless teen angst had created distance. But that hadn’t stopped me from missing her. From wondering what kind of relationship we might have had.
Would we have grown closer as adults? Would she have married, had children, pursued that fashion career she’d dreamed about? Questions that would never be answered. Her life cut too short.
Those faded memories left me drowning in melancholy. I missed what we’d shared. Even the hair-pulling fights and name-calling felt precious now. But what hurt most were the uncelebrated milestones that would never happen. Moments that would only ever exist in my imagination.
How was it possible to miss something I’d never had?
It might’ve just been an empty room, but being in it hurt.
Maybe it was because the walls were still the god-awful bubblegum-pink she’d begged Dad to paint them.
The frilly white lace curtains Mom had sewn were still in the window.
It looked identical to my childhood, like stepping back in time, except most of her personal things were gone and she wasn’t screaming at me to get out.
But it was her notebooks on the bedside table that nearly broke me. Those books were more like a diary than Trina ever admitted. She’d protected them fiercely, never letting anyone peek.
Seeing them now, dust-free and in a neat stack, made me wonder if Dad spent time reading her words, remembering the brilliant, beautiful, demanding daughter he’d lost.
Would it be wrong if I did the same?
Maybe I would, but not tonight. I couldn’t handle any more torment.
The room was ready—blue sheets closer to Hunter’s favorite shade, stuffed animals hidden in the closet. It was only a place to sleep, but I wanted him comfortable.
I wanted him home.
Dylan had called hours ago with details. Vanessa and Ron were shocked when Hunter’s father showed up instead of me. Apparently, they’d assumed I didn’t know who Hunter’s father was.
God, they really were assholes.
And they’d been even more surprised to learn Dylan was a cop. They felt compelled to explain their version of events, which didn’t match the official report Dylan got from his Toronto contact.
No shit.
At first, I’d worried I was na?ve for trusting Hunter when he said it was a misunderstanding. Dylan’s report proved I wasn’t.
Vanessa and Ron blamed the entire incident on Hunter, when the store clerk reported it was Jackson who’d been caught stuffing candy in his pocket. Their handling of the situation proved that being older didn’t make someone a better parent. If you were an asshole, you’d be bad at it regardless.
I might not have had guidance raising Hunter, but I’d never blame someone else’s kid for my own child’s actions. I trusted Hunter while knowing kids made mistakes.
Despite reassurances from Dylan, Hunter, and Eric, I couldn’t relax. I wouldn’t trust my child was fine until I could see him myself. Until I could hug the little troublemaker hard enough for him to complain about broken ribs.
The worry wasn’t only about Hunter’s arrival, though.
I was nervous because Eric was here.
He’d insisted on bringing me home from the hospital. When I suggested he stay with Caleb, he’d refused outright. Called Marc to stay overnight with Caleb, then attached himself to me.
He didn’t want me alone.
I was grateful for his presence, even though he was currently asleep in my bedroom—his big, beautiful body consuming the entire double mattress. But what would Hunter think?
I’d never had a man stay overnight. Even Dylan used hotels when visiting us in Toronto. Introducing my son to a new man this way seemed intense, especially when I had no idea what the future held for us.
How could I explain it to Hunter when I couldn’t explain it to myself?
But the moment I opened the door and saw my wonderful boy, anxiety evaporated.
Dylan struggled carrying a semiconscious Hunter from the car. At nine, he was too big for me to lift, but half-asleep in his father’s arms, he looked like my baby.
“How is he?” I grabbed the bags from Dylan.
“Heavy as hell.” Dylan grunted up the front steps. “He’s fine. Talked my ear off for an hour, then slept the rest.”
“Was he upset?”
“A little. More worried about Jackson than himself. But he was too busy explaining Minecraft to obsess over much else. Well…there was one other thing. He worked pretty hard winning me over to his cause.”
Dread settled in my stomach. “What cause?”
“I’m sorry.” He cringed. “I agreed to pay for it.”
“What did you do?” I asked, even though I already knew the answer.
“It’ll be good for him. He’s such a good kid, Jamie. He deserves a dog, don’t you think?”
At the magic word, Hunter perked up. “I’m getting a dog?” His smile was sweet and sleepy. My wonderful, troublemaking angel.
Dylan set Hunter on his feet, gazing down with love in his eyes. “Is that really the first thing you want to say to your mom after a whole week apart?”
“No.” Hunter launched into me, wrapping his arms around my neck and burrowing into my shoulder. “I love you, Mom.”
“I love you back, you little hoodlum.”
Holding my child, I watched Dylan’s tired smile. He’d made real effort tonight. Hell, he’d used my actual name instead of calling me princess. That progress alone made me optimistic about his promises to be there for his son.
“I hope you know…if I agree to this dog, it goes wherever Hunter goes. Including visits with you.”
“So I really can get a dog?” Hunter squealed.
“We’ll talk in the morning. You need sleep—you’re falling over. Come on, I made you a place.”
When Dylan said goodnight, Hunter surprised us both with a giant hug, thanking him for the rescue. For two people who barely knew each other, they seemed to be building something meaningful.
I only hoped it would last.
Tucking Hunter into bed reminded me of when he was small, before he’d declared himself too old for tuck-ins. Now he closed his eyes and accepted my goodnight kiss with a huge smile.
“Mom, I missed you.” His voice was heavy with sleep.
“I missed you too, bud. So, so much.”
“Thanks for believing me today. If I can’t get a dog, I understand. Even though I really, really want one.”
Dylan was right. Hunter was a good kid. Good enough to tolerate a dog in our tiny Toronto apartment? I wasn’t convinced, but he deserved something. Maybe I could negotiate for a cat.
“Sleep now. We’ll talk tomorrow. Good night, sweet boy.”
He was unconscious before I left the room.
Now that he was here, exhaustion hit like a freight train. Nervous anticipation had been the only thing keeping me upright.
The past week had been the longest of my life.
But I wasn’t complaining.
It had been filled with some of the best moments I’d ever experienced. Having Hunter here made everything better.
Dark spots still hung overhead, but they’d have to wait. I couldn’t keep my eyes open long enough to deal with anything else.
Back in my room, I crawled over Eric, wedging myself between his sprawled body and the wall. The instant I hit the mattress, he made space, pulling me into warm, protective arms without waking. Like he was aware of me even in his dreams.
Maybe it was exhaustion, but curled up in a tiny bed with Eric, I was more comfortable than I’d ever been.
I snuggled against him and surrendered to sleep.