Chapter 52 - Tessa
I woke up with the sun. Not from a nightmare this time. Just… awake in a way I hadn't felt in a long time.
The house was quiet in a way that made my chest ache. My throat felt raw, my eyes swollen, but my mind wasn’t fogged or underwater. I could feel everything: my body, the weight of the blankets, the small rhythmic flutter of the baby inside me. Like she knew things had shifted.
It wasn’t peace.
But it wasn’t numbness, either.
Something new.
Something like standing on thawing ice, without fear of the water.
I sat up slowly, pressing a hand to my belly.
“Morning,” I whispered.
She nudged back, gently, like she’d been waiting for me. I cried, but it wasn’t the drowning kind. It was more like… a pressure-release valve finally opening.
When I walked downstairs, I stopped on the last step.
Because Nate’s family was there. Like they knew too. Like they were waiting for this moment.
Kenzie stood in the kitchen making pancakes, her hair in a messy bun and her eyes swollen from crying.
John had what looked like pieces of an old bassinet and was assembling them near the window.
Maggie and Eli were at the table with mugs of coffee between them, talking in low voices that stalled the second they saw me.
All their focus turned to me, as if I were fragile, important...
Someone they weren’t sure they still had.
My throat closed. I wanted to turn and bolt back up those stairs. But I didn't. I stayed.
“Hi,” I croaked.
Maggie reached me first, cupping both sides of my face like she was afraid I’d disappear.
“Oh, sweetheart,” she whispered, tears welling instantly. “You scared us.”
I broke.
“I’m sorry,” I choked. “I’m so… so sorry.”
She pulled me into her chest. I sobbed against her shoulder, and she cried with me, her hand stroking the back of my head like I was one of her own.
“I didn’t mean to shut you out,” I whispered. “I just… I didn’t know how to... I felt like I was drowning and so much kept pushing me down even when I knew I needed to try and pull myself out... I...”
Her voice shook. “Tessa, no one blames you, sweetheart. We love you. We just needed you to let us carry some of the weight.”
John wrapped an arm around us both, his voice gravelly. “You are so strong, and I think sometimes that makes it harder. But you do not need to be strong alone. Nobody expects that.”
Eli hovered a few feet away, jaw tight, eyes rimmed red. I pulled away from Maggie and John and took a tentative step towards the man who has always been there for me. Always there to comfort, protect and tell me what I needed to hear.
“I’m sorry,” I said to him. “For the things I said. For how I have behaved... for everything.” I looked around, making sure to meet everyone's eyes, and continued, "I really am so sorry. You lost him too, and I... I made it even harder." I looked back at Eli.
He shook his head immediately.
“No. You don’t need to apologize for grief. I just… I wanted you back, Tess. I didn’t want to lose you, too.”
My eyes burned again, but this time the tears felt different, softer, grateful.
He took those last few steps towards me and wrapped me in a hug I knew all too well.
I let myself feel the comfort, the familiarity.
The baby rolled, and Eli chuckled into my hair.
"Holy shit, she is going to be busy like Kenzie. "
She cleared her throat and spoke. “Okay, everyone, stop crying before I start, because if I start, I will not stop. Breakfast. Sit.”
I laughed, and it startled me how natural it sounded.
Over the next days, life didn’t fix itself, but it slowly started to shift.
I found myself hungry for the first time since losing Nate.
Kenzie nearly fainted when I made myself eggs without being asked.
I caught myself humming while washing dishes.
I took my prenatal vitamins without someone handing them to me.
I started rubbing my belly absentmindedly, in the shower, in bed, while cooking, tiny circles that soothed her and me both. I talked and sang to her throughout the day.
For the first time since the day of Nate's accident, I drove myself out to the farm. John walked out of the barn when he heard my truck pull up. A small smile tugged at his lips, but he didn't say anything. He gave me a small nod and then went back to work. I went for a walk around the farm and didn’t feel crushed by the memories embedded in every fencepost. I even smiled at one, Nate, sitting on the fence rail, staring at a calf as it had personally offended him because it wouldn’t come to him.
I closed my eyes and let the sun warm my face, let myself hear his laugh, see his stubborn scowl and his stupid, perfect dimples.
For the first time, remembering didn’t hollow me out. It warmed something.
I drove to Chase’s place. He answered the door, looking like he hadn’t slept in months. Hair a mess, dark circles carved under his eyes, knuckles raw from something he probably punched. He blinked like he wasn’t sure I was real.
“Tess?” His voice cracked.
“I’m sorry,” I said immediately, and tears pricked his eyes so fast it broke something in me.
He stepped back, letting me in without speaking. The house was clean, too clean even for Chase. The kind of order that only happens when someone is desperate to control even one small piece of their world.
We sat on the couch, the silence thick but not uncomfortable.
“I shouldn’t have disappeared on you,” I said. “You were there and I just… left you alone with it.”
He swallowed hard, looking down at his hands.
“I didn’t know if you hated me,” he said quietly. “I keep replaying everything. Wondering if I missed something. If there was something else I could’ve done. I was the first one there... I should’ve...”
“Stop.” My voice came out firmer than I intended. “Chase… you were the only reason I got to say goodbye. You got him out. You kept him alive long enough for him to hear me. To hear about the baby. You gave us that.”
He shook his head, jaw trembling.
“I am a Doctor Tessa,” he whispered. “I wish that I could have saved him. I can't sleep. Every time I close my eyes, I hear your voice, your scream for me to do something.”
“Oh, Chase,” I said softly. “I know you did everything you could.”
We sat in quiet for a moment, his grief sitting beside mine like an old friend neither of us invited.
“You don’t have to carry it alone; you can talk to me,” I said.
He looked at me, and something unknotted in his expression.
“I’m here,” I told him. “And I’m not going to disappear on you again. I really am sorry, Chase.”
He nodded, wiping his face with the heel of his hand.
“Good,” he muttered, voice thick. “Because I’m really bad at losing people.”
The baby kicked then, hard enough that I winced. Chase’s eyes widened.
“Was that?”
“Yeah,” I breathed.
I shifted to give her more space, and Chase moved with me, like he needed the connection. He placed his hand on my rolling belly and laughed. That laugh turned into a sob, and I pulled him into me.
"It's ok, Chase. Let it out.... I am here.... I am so sorry I left you alone in this."
He cried while I spoke softly to him, and eventually, he fell asleep next to me on the couch, his hand spread across my belly, with my baby girl pushed up against his palm like she wanted in on the cuddles too.
One morning, I drove to the cemetery alone. The sky was soft gray, the grass wet with dew. His headstone was simple, exactly what he would’ve wanted.
I traced his name with the tips of my fingers.
“I’m sorry it took me a while to come,” I whispered. “I wasn’t ready.”
The wind rustled through the pines behind me. Somewhere far off, a truck door slammed, a reminder that life went on around us.
“I’m trying,” I said. “I’m really trying, Nate. For her. For me. For what you wanted us to have.”
My throat burned.
“I miss you,” I whispered. “But I’m going to live the life you walked toward. I promise.”
The baby kicked, but softer than usual. I pressed a hand to my belly, looking down at his name.
“She’ll know you,” I said. “Not the legend. Not the captain. You. The man I loved.”
And for the first time, the ache didn’t feel like an open wound. It felt like a tether, thin, delicate, but still connected. Still real. Like, instead of pulling me backwards, it was guiding me forward.