NORA
“She didn’t die on impact,” Theo said quietly. “But I got there too late.” His jaw flexed. “I was always going to get there too late.”
My heart twisted.
I’d always known the outline of the accident. That Alisha had swerved to miss a deer. That the car had wrapped around a tree.
But I hadn’t known he’d heard it happen.
That he’d been on the line, listening.
Helpless as his wife died.
“I had no idea what to do after that,” he continued. “I went home from the hospital in shock.”
I tried to imagine it. He’d been talking to Alisha about sippy cups. About Bali. About a future that felt wide open and waiting.
And then, just hours later, he was walking out of a hospital with his baby girl in his arms. The life he’d been planning was simply gone.
“It took a while for reality to settle in,” he said.
“To realize I was in this alone now. Fully responsible for a tiny human. And then it hit me.” He let out a quiet, humorless breath.
“I had no idea when Charlotte’s doctor’s appointments were.
Or what time she napped. Or even what size diapers she was in. ”
His voice thinned. “I’d been as involved as I could be. I helped. But I was always too focused on my career.” His eyes dropped to mine. “Alisha handled pretty much everything at home.”
“You had different roles,” I whispered, not liking that he felt guilty about something that had been a by-product of the way their marriage worked and the goals they had for the future.
“I know,” he said. “And she never made me feel bad about that. She understood how the sacrifices would help in the long run. But I was so lost. I felt completely helpless for a while.”
“But your parents and Lucy stepped up, right?” I asked, resting my cheek against his shoulder.
“They did.” He nodded. “I wouldn’t have survived without them. Some days I was barely functioning. Nights were the worst.” His gaze drifted. “I couldn’t bear to sleep in our bed. Her side just… stared at me.”
My chest ached at the way he said it.
“So I went to my parents’ place. Slept in their bed every night for a month. Right between them.” A faint, embarrassed breath left him. “Like a kid. I just couldn’t handle being alone.”
The image undid me. This strong, capable man reduced to needing his parents just to close his eyes.
“When I finally moved back home, Lucy moved in. My parents helped during the day. Lucy took nights with Charlotte sometimes.” He swallowed. “But I still begged one of them to stay over more often than not.”
“Is that why you were driving around tonight?” I asked gently. “Do you still have a hard time sleeping?”
Was that why he was still here with me, after two o’clock in the morning?
He nodded. “Nights are still the hardest. Even two years later.”
“Is that why Charlotte is sometimes in your bed when I get here?” I asked, thinking of the mornings I’d found her tangled in his blankets.
A corner of his mouth lifted. “I might have let her crawl in more than I should.” He exhaled softly. “Though potty training made me regret that decision a few times.”
I made a face and he chuckled, the sound warm and grateful.
Then it faded.
“But as hard as it was to suddenly become a single dad,” he said quietly, “she saved me.”
I tilted my head back to look at him. “She did?”
“Yeah.” His hand absently traced along my arm. “As overwhelming as it was, she gave me something to wake up and get showered for. She didn’t care that I was shattered. She needed breakfast. She needed diapers. She needed someone to show up.”
He cleared his throat, like he needed a second before going on.
“So even though I cried every time someone said Alisha’s name those first six months… At the grocery store. At work. In the receiving line at the funeral.” He shook his head faintly. “I still had a demanding little girl who didn’t let me disappear.”
“Thank goodness for Charlotte,” I said softly, loving that little girl more than ever.
He smiled faintly. “That little Tasmanian devil is my guardian angel.”
“I think she might be mine, too,” I said.
He glanced at me. “Because of your job?”
“Well, yes,” I said with a small smile. “But also… if you hadn’t been missing her so much tonight, I might not be here. You would have been home. Asleep. Not prowling the streets of Eden Falls.”
His arm tightened around me again.
“I thought I was about to lose another person I cared about,” he mumbled softly into my hair. “That I might not make it to you in time.”
“You made it just in time,” I said softly, lifting my head to meet his eyes.
His gaze held mine.
Steady. Searching.
And I realized something then.
He hadn’t just been trying to save me tonight.
He’d been trying to reach someone before it was too late.
But unlike two years ago… this time, he did.