Chapter 22 Iris #2
“Iris.” Ellie’s voice is gentle but firm, the tone she uses when she’s about to call me on my bullshit.
Pure, optimistic Ellie, who’s never met a self-imposed limitation she couldn’t challenge with uncomfortable accuracy.
“Do you really think Collin is anything like Owen? Because from where I’m sitting, it looks like you’re self-sabotaging.
You’re so scared of getting hurt again that you’re not letting yourself see what’s right in front of you.
” The morning light catches in her hair as she leans forward, her blue eyes serious.
“A man who makes homemade soup for your sick kid, who looks at you like you hung the moon... that’s not Owen.
That’s not even in the same universe as Owen. And you know it.”
I pick at a loose thread on my sleeve, watching Ellie absently twirl a strand of hair around her finger as she studies me.
The truth settles like a weight in my stomach—I’ve been the one creating distance.
When Collin showed up this morning with soup and that concerned furrow between his brows, I’d barely let him cross the threshold.
Had given him a quick thanks and sent him on his way with a weak excuse about not wanting him to catch Jamie’s cold.
As if Collin would care about that. As if he hadn’t already proved a dozen times over that he’d walk through fire if I needed him to.
“God,” I groan, dropping my head back. “I’m an idiot.”
“Only sometimes,” Ellie says cheerfully, nudging me with her shoulder. “But you’re our idiot.”
“It’s New Year’s Eve,” I say softly, more to myself than to Ellie. She sets her cup down with deliberate care, a knowing smile playing at her lips.
“Yes... and?”
“And I want to see him.” The words feel both foreign and inevitable on my tongue. “But I don’t want to ruin his plans or seem needy or—”
“Please.” Ellie pushes away from the counter, hands on her hips as she fixes me with a look that brooks no argument.
“You honestly think that man doesn’t want to be bothered?
After everything you just told us?” She gestures broadly at my kitchen, at the evidence of Collin’s thoughtfulness still scattered across the counter. “Does he even have plans tonight?”
“Well... no,” I say softly, remembering how Collin had looked this morning—hands shoved deep in his pockets as he stood on my doorstep.
For once, that easy confidence had given way to something almost shy, something that made my heart flutter as he told me to call if I needed anything.
“He doesn’t have plans... he actually mentioned that when he dropped off the soup.
” The memory of him standing there, hesitating like he wanted to say more, sends a warm ache through my chest.
“You should call him!” Ellie claps her hands together, eyes bright.
“Wait, what’s happening?” Max demands through the speaker. “Are we calling him? I want to hear!” I pick my phone up off the counter, heart thundering against my ribs.
“I’m hanging up now,” I say before I can chicken out.
“No!” Max protests. “Don’t you dare—”
“I promise I’ll call you later, kay? Love you, bye!” I rush out, employing her own signature move against her as I end the call.
Her indignant text comes through immediately:
RUDE.
Ellie squeezes my arm and mouths I’ll check on Jamie before padding into the living room. The phone rings twice before his voice fills my ear, warm and rich like honey.
“Hey, Pretty Girl. How’s little man doing?” Just the sound of it warms me from the inside out. It’s amazing how he can do that, make me feel safe and off-balance all at once.
“Better,” I manage, curling my fingers around the edge of the counter.
My heart is suddenly racing, the familiar cadence of his voice making me hyperaware of every breath, every small movement.
“The soup helped. A lot, actually.” I pause, swallowing against the nervousness climbing up my throat.
“Jamie really loves the Spider-Man movie,” I continue, wincing at my own awkwardness.
God, when did I forget how to have a normal conversation?
“He, um... he asked where you went, actually. After you left.” There’s a soft exhale on the other end of the line, and I can picture the way his lips curve up at the corners, that dimple indenting his left cheek.
“Yeah?”
“Yeah.” I close my eyes, gathering courage from somewhere deep in my chest. “I should have... this morning, when you brought the soup, I should have asked you to stay. I wanted to. I just—” The confession emerges softer than I mean it to, carrying all the weight of six days of overthinking, of careful distance I never really wanted to maintain.
“I know it’s New Year’s Eve and you probably have something going on, but I was thinking.
..” The words tangle in my throat. Even now, even after everything, there’s that flutter of uncertainty.
That ingrained hesitation before letting someone in.
“Maybe you’d want to come over?” The invitation finally spills out.
“Nothing fancy, just a small thing with people we care about? Jamie’s feeling better and—”
“My plans are your plans,” he says, quietly. “Always.” That single word presses between my ribs like a living thing, expanding with each breath. It should terrify me, how much promise that single word holds. How much I want to believe in it.
“Really?” The question escapes before I can catch it, carrying all my lingering doubts.
“Text me what you need me to bring,” he says, and I can hear rustling in the background like he’s already moving. There’s something achingly sweet about his immediacy, his readiness to step into the spaces I’m finally brave enough to open. “I’ll be there as soon as you want me to be.”
“Okay.” I bite my lip against a smile that threatens to take over my whole face, feeling giddy and nervous and impossibly light. “Hey, Collin?”
“Yeah?”
“Thank you. For the soup, for... everything.” His soft laugh travels down the line, and I can feel it in my bones, warm and familiar.
“Anytime, Pretty Girl. See you soon.” I end the call and press the phone to my sternum, where my heart is doing cartwheels in my chest. From the living room doorway, Ellie slowly raises her eyebrows, a knowing grin spreading across her face.
“So?” she asks, though her expression says she already knows.
“So,” I say, unable to wrestle the smile off my face, “we’re having a New Year’s party.”