18. Chapter 18
Chapter 18
Jake
T he firehouse is busy this morning, the usual chaos of trucks pulling in and out, sirens blaring. I rub my temples, the sharp sounds piercing my pounding head. The fight with Marcus a week ago still hangs over me like a shroud. I stand in the kitchen for a moment, watching my colleagues shuffle around in their work outfits—thick yellow jackets and forest-green pants, scuffed boots trudging across the concrete. I can barely focus on my job today. Thankfully, there are no fires to fight, just drills and going over strategies.
Elijah sidles up beside me, his brow furrowed. "Any word from Marcus?"
I shake my head, staring at the map of fire zones tacked on the wall. Trouble spots flare angry red, the dry season turning our corner of the state into a tinderbox. But today, everything is quiet. Well, everything outside of me.
Elijah's voice is gentle but firm. "Marcus will come around."
"Will he?" The question bursts from me before I can stop it. I drag a hand through my hair with a sigh. "I betrayed his trust, Elijah. I broke the one rule he asked me to follow, and now..."
Now Ellie's gone. The thought claws at my chest, ripping away the fragile control I've clung to all week. But all of this is my fault. I slump against the kitchen counter, images flashing through my mind on a loop—Ellie's tears, the softness in her eyes as she tried to convince me to give us a chance, the hollow ache inside me when I watched her leave.
Elijah grips my shoulder, steadying me before I slip into too many spiraling thoughts. "You can't help who you fall for. And you didn't mean to hurt Marcus. He'll understand that, in time."
I wish I shared his faith. "It's not just Marcus. I'm not ready for this, Elijah. I can't lose someone else." My voice cracks, shame burning my cheeks. "Can't decide if I'm just chasing something because it feels good or if it's real. And Charlotte..." The thought of my daughter getting caught in the crossfire makes my chest tighten.
"Oh, Jake." His voice softens, and I stare at the scuffed toes of my boots so I don't have to meet his gaze. "Finding happiness again doesn't mean letting go of Sarah. You're allowed to love more than once.”
It’s hard to tell him this, but my time with Ellie has opened my heart. At least a little. So I take a breath and admit, "I’m scared of forgetting her.” The words are raw inside my throat.
"Finding happiness again isn't betraying Sarah," Elijah says softly. "It's living the life she'd want for you. For Charlotte. Didn’t you say Charlotte really likes Ellie?”
I nod, crossing my arms. Ellie was completely unexpected in my life, and yet she came in and gave both me and Charlotte something we’d been lacking: joy. I haven’t seen my baby that happy in a long time, but Char beams every time Ellie is near.
But what if, in the long run, I can’t be the man Ellie needs? If I open myself up to her, then I also open myself up to pain and loss. Of making mistakes and hurting her.
Though it seems I’ve already been hurting her plenty from all this running away I’ve done.
Elijah watches me for a moment, almost like he can see the jumble of thoughts in my head. Then he puts a reassuring hand on my shoulder. “Ellie isn't asking you to forget Sarah or to become someone else. She's asking for a chance to build something new with you.”
His words are a balm to the turmoil inside me. For so long, I've clung to my grief like a shield, using it to ward off any chance of experiencing loss again. But in doing so, I've also shielded myself from the warmth of new love, the kind that Ellie offers.
“Listen up!” the chief says, walking into the main living area.
His bellow interrupts before I can respond, and I'm almost grateful for the reprieve as Elijah and I have to focus on work, trying to listen intently as the chief goes over more drills we need to do this afternoon. The entire time, I’m going over Elijah’s words in the back of my mind—Ellie’s too—and I know they’re both right.
It’s okay to move on. I just wish it wasn’t so painful.
When the chief is done, before we spring into action, I give Elijah a nod. “Thanks for the advice.”
"Anytime, brother." He claps my back once more before we turn to join the others.
When I return home to the ranch that evening—the duplex is too painful to stay at right now—I find Charlotte sprawled on the living room floor doing homework with the babysitter. She looks up at the sound of the door, her face lighting in a smile.
"Daddy!" She scrambles up and throws her arms around me. I cling to her warmth, the sweet scent of her shampoo chasing away the lingering smoke in my nostrils from all the drills today.
Pulling back, I do my best attempt at a serious face, which I know she can see right through.
"I've got a question for you, sweetheart," I begin, her curious eyes locked onto mine. "Why can't you give Elsa a balloon?" I pause for dramatic effect, watching as she tilts her head.
"I don't know, why?"
"Because she will...let it go.”
Charlotte bursts into giggles, then she rolls her eyes like I don’t know how to make good jokes. She’s been a bit glum these past several weeks, so I’m glad to see her light up again.
The babysitter gathers her things, accepting the cash I press into her hands. "Thank you, Jake. Have a good evening."
“You too, Maggie. Drive safe.”
Once she’s gone, I look back to Charlotte and those eyes that are so like her mother’s. “How was school today?”
"Good! We did art. Miss Peterson said my painting was creative."
“Oh? What was it?”
“Mountains. I put it on the fridge.” She bounces on her toes for a moment. “Will you read to me for bed?”
I check my watch. She’s right, almost bedtime. It was a long day today. “Of course. You get ready and give me some time to eat.”
She nods, running off down the hall. I take a quick shower and change. Then I head to the kitchen, taking a moment to smile at her drawing of mountains behind a green meadow. I can see why the teacher called it creative—she filled the sky with lots of UFOs and what looks to be a griffin. Chuckling to myself, I heat up some leftovers and wolf them down before finding her in her room.
I push open her bedroom door to find her sitting cross-legged on the bed, surrounded by an army of stuffed animals. The sight yanks a tired smile onto my face. She’s already in her nightgown, waiting patiently for me with a book.
I climb into the bed and cradle her in my arms, looking at the book she selected. She’s been on a fantasy kick lately, which I think has been Ellie’s doing.
Ellie.
I open to the first page and start to read.
“Daddy,” Charlotte interrupts, looking up at me with big eyes. “Are you sad?”
Her question takes me off-guard.
I pause, startled. "Why would you ask that?"
"I don't know. You look sad a lot."
The admission punches the air from my lungs. I never imagined my pain was so obvious, even to an eight-year-old. I open my mouth, ready to play it off, but I can’t. “Yes, sweetheart,” I admit. “I get sad a lot.”
“Me too,” she whispers.
I don’t ask her why because I already know—we’re both sad about mommy. And also from missing Ellie.
I think back to how happy Charlotte was when Ellie was here; how happy she is after spending time in a tutoring session with Ellie after school. Ellie makes her light up again, and all I’ve been doing is running away, keeping Ellie out of our lives. I’ve been so focused on the possibility of future pain that I started causing more of it in the present.
A heavy weight settles on my chest. I'm failing my daughter—the one person I swore to protect and provide for. The thought makes me sick with shame and grief.
"Come here." I pull her into a strong hug, kissing her forehead. "I'm so sorry. We were both happier with Ellie here, huh?”
She nods. “I don’t know why you made her leave. Isn’t she your friend?”
“She wanted to be. But Daddy’s not always good with his feelings.”
She wiggles, so I relax my tight hug so she can shift positions. “But you should just tell her you’re sad and you want to be friends.”
“You’re right. I should do that.” I kiss her forehead again, the barriers around my heart beginning to crack. Ellie isn't a replacement—she's an addition, bringing light to places long dimmed by grief.
I don’t know why it’s been such a fight with myself to get to this point. But I can’t change the past, only think about the next right step.
"Can Ellie come back?" Charlotte asks, hope filling her words.
"Maybe, sweetheart. Maybe." I breathe out slowly, the idea taking root. “I have to talk to her.”
She nods and picks up her book. I spend time reading to her until her eyes are too heavy to stay open. I tuck Charlotte in with extra care, kissing her forehead and smoothing her hair. "I love you."
"Love you too, Daddy." Her eyes drift shut, a contented smile curving her lips.
Leaving her room, I make my way to my own. The ache in my chest remains, born of old grief and new purpose. There's a stillness in my room that feels like the calm before a storm. I cross over to the dresser where the picture of Sarah stands, framed in simple wood, her smile as haunting as ever.
My thoughts flash back to something Ellie said during one of those moments when I was being too guarded and stubborn for my own good: There’s room enough for both of us.
My heart does have room to hold both Sarah and Ellie close, and it’s very endearing that Ellie would never try to replace Sarah—that she honors the first woman I loved, Charlotte’s mother, who lost her life too soon.
I trace her smile with a fingertip. Loving Ellie won't make me love you any less.
A weight lifts from my shoulders. I'm not destroying Sarah’s memory, only adding more love to our lives.
The decision forms like a fire kindled in my belly. It's time to fight. For Ellie, for Charlotte, for the chance at a happiness that extends beyond duty and grief. My love for Ellie—it's undeniable, and it demands to be acknowledged, no matter how much it scares me.
But there are hurdles ahead, massive ones. Marcus still feels betrayed by my feelings for his sister. And Ellie…I've pushed her away so many times I wouldn’t blame her if she’s the one to say no this time. Winning them over, earning forgiveness and trust, will take every ounce of courage I've got.
With a deep breath, I straighten and meet my reflection in the dresser mirror. The man staring back at me bears little resemblance to the broken shell of a person I was after Sarah's death. In his place is a man willing to face his fears for another chance at happiness.
I only hope it's not too late.
Ellie
Danielle waves at me from across the cafe as I walk through the door, the familiar scent of coffee and pastries enveloping me. My eyes linger on Danielle's bright orange blouse—a bold choice that suits her spirit—as she motions me to come to her table by the window. The whirlwind inside me picks up speed as my gaze settles on her expectant smile. How am I going to tell Jake about the baby? I’m really hoping this girls’ brunch will give me the encouragement I need to face this. With each step toward her, my stomach does another somersault.
"Hey," I breathe out as I reach her, pulling her into a hug that feels like a lifeline. "Thanks for meeting me."
"Of course."
I slide into the chair opposite her, smoothing out the creases in my napkin while glancing at her mimosa with a mix of envy and resignation. "Olivia's running late," I inform her. "Mary's having a morning." I told Olivia about the situation—also to keep it secret for now—and then almost begged her to come to brunch. She’s a new mom so I figured she could help with some of my fears.
Danielle nods, sipping her drink. "Parenting," she says with a knowing look.
It only makes the ball of worry grow inside me because I’m still wrapping my head around becoming a mother. I’m completely not ready and I wish my child could somehow be born a seven or eight-year-old, since that’s the only age I’m experienced with. But a baby? No clue.
At least I have eight months to prepare.
My emotions must be written all over my face as I try to focus on the menu and what to order for brunch because Danielle reaches across the table, squeezing my hand. "It'll be okay, Ellie."
Before I can respond, Olivia breezes in, her chestnut hair tousled perfectly and her green eyes sparkling with that trademark tenacity of hers. She's wearing a wrap dress that hugs her petite frame and swirls around her knees, a pattern of blues and greens that reminds me of the ocean.
"Sorry, ladies!" She kisses my cheek and then introduces herself to Danielle, since this is the first time they’re meeting.
“Great to finally meet you,” Danielle says as Olivia sits down.
Olivia smiles and then huffs, drinking some water before saying. "Lila just took over with Mary. Just one of those grumpy days, so she may have too much of her daddy’s personality."
I smile, happy to have a lighter topic to start with. “Things are going to be interesting when she’s a teenager. I remember Asher being a lot more grumpy then. Marcus was always teasing him about it whenever he came over to hang out. He’s actually gotten less grumpy as an adult.”
Olivia lets out a groan. “Oh god don’t tell me that. I can’t even think of Mary as a teenager. We need to get through her being two first.”
Danielle and I both chuckle, then I touch my stomach. My mood drops. I’m really pregnant.
"You're scared," Olivia says, touching my arm gently. Her eyes are knowing, understanding. Of course they are. Mary is her first baby so I’m sure she went through a lot of the same fears I have.
I nod. “This would be easier if Jake was on board. I need to talk to him but…even when he knows I’m not confident anything will change.” I fiddle with my napkin. “I just imagined the situation being different when I had my first child. I didn’t imagine raising my baby alone.”
“The first step is telling him,” Daniele says.
"I know," I say with a sigh. Because Jake isn't just some guy—he's a fortress whose walls I can't scale. "It's just...Jake is so closed off. He's still...he's not ready.”
"Maybe he needs a reason to be ready," Olivia suggests gently, her voice carrying the weight of experience. "When I found out about Mary, I was terrified. Asher was so adamant about not wanting kids and we hadn’t planned for her. We also weren’t in a relationship."
Her confession catches me off guard; Olivia and Asher seemed like the type of couple that had it all figured out. I guess I never asked too much about how they met—I assumed they both met and started dating, going through the normal ups and downs. "What?”
Olivia folds her hands on the table, leaning forward. "Our situation was a little similar to you and Jake. We had chemistry and a short fling, but it was just supposed to be a one-time thing. When I found out about Mary, I was terrified of telling him. I thought there was no way he'd want to be that involved because he was so strongly opposed to relationships and having a family. But when he found out, that wasn't the case at all. He was just scared of failing us, of not being a good enough father. Once he realized I was there to support him, he came around."
Her words sink in, resonating with me. Asher and Jake are both men who have built walls around their hearts, only Asher was able to break through his. Maybe Jake's the same—so afraid of losing another person he loves that he can't see what's right in front of him. My heart squeezes at the thought.
The server, a sprightly woman with a smile that feels like it could warm the entire cafe, appears at our side. "What can I get for you ladies?" she asks, her notepad ready.
I fumble with the menu a bit since I haven’t really looked at it. I go for the first thing I see. "Could I have the avocado toast, please?" I request, trying to project more certainty in my voice than I feel swirling inside me.
"Make that two," Danielle chimes in, her eyes sparkling above the rim of her nearly empty mimosa glass.
Olivia orders eggs benedict and some tea.
With the server gone, Danielle leans in, giving me a smile. "Ellie, Olivia's right. Opening up—it's a ripple effect. You share your heart, and it might just encourage Jake to do the same."
I nod, but anxiety gnaws at me. "But what if he doesn't? What if he's too far gone in his grief? I'm afraid I'll be raising this baby on my own." My voice trembles, betraying the scenarios haunting me—sleepless nights, solo doctor's visits, a child asking why daddy doesn't want us...
"Ellie, take a breath," Olivia cuts in. "You're spiraling. Just one step at a time, remember?"
I inhale deeply, feeling the air rush into my lungs as I try to ground myself in the present. The smell of fresh coffee and baked goods anchors me, easing the tightness in my chest. I nod.
"First, just tell Jake. See how he reacts," Olivia continues, her green eyes locking onto mine. "If he's really too guarded, then...then you'll figure out co-parenting from a distance. Danielle and I will both be here to support you." She glances at Danielle.
Danielle nods with a warm smile. “You’ll have so much support to help you through this,” she says.
I let out a breath. "You think he'll want to be involved, even if we're not together?"
"Jake has Charlotte. He knows what it means to love a child. There's no way he wouldn't want to be part of this baby's life," Olivia says.
Before I know it, our food arrives, a distraction that's both welcome and necessary. We dig in, and soon, the tension eases further as we swap stories about Mary's latest antics and the quirky things kids say in my classroom.
Somehow, the conversation loops to my brother. "So how's Marcus?" Olivia asks, dipping a piece of toast into the runny yolk of her poached egg. “I tried to ask Asher but he says Marcus has been tight-lipped and a bit distant. You haven’t told him about the baby yet, right?”
I shake my head. “No, I’m still letting him process me and Jake hooking up. I don’t know how he is because he won’t answer my calls yet. I know he’s really hurt, which I feel awful about.”
"He’s too overbearing, so that’s not on you," Danielle offers, mid-bite of her perfectly toasted avocado bread. "He's your brother. He loves you."
"Exactly," Olivia follows. "You really think Marcus would disown his nephew or niece?"
I pick at my brunch food, which I haven’t eaten yet. I haven’t been having any sickness from the pregnancy, it’s more about my emotions making me not feel hungry. "No, I guess not," I say, picturing Marcus's goofy grin and how he turns into a marshmallow whenever he's around kids. “It may just take him the entire pregnancy to get past everything. But, you’re right. I can’t imagine him not wanting to be an uncle.”
"Once the baby's here, he'll be too busy being an awesome uncle to hold any grudges," Olivia says with a wink.
"That's what I keep telling myself," I say. "He's just in shock. It'll take time. It’s just weird not having him text me all the time. I usually get annoyed at how nosy he is…but now I’m missing it."
Olivia squeezes my shoulder and then I finally force myself to take a bite of my food. It’s good.
We chat for a while longer, the conversation drifting to lighter topics like Mary and Danielle's new boyfriend. But Olivia's and Danielle's encouragement stays with me, steadying my resolve. I just need patience. Marcus and Jake just need time. I need to stay strong for my baby.
I smile at Danielle and Olivia as they chat, feeling happy that I at least have them. Regardless of Jake and my brother, I’m not alone in this.