Chapter Twenty-Eight Sloane
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Sloane
Iwas up early that morning, already showered and dressed, as I moved through the kitchen to make breakfast. A cup of coffee was cooling in my hand while I watched Harper pick at her cereal.
I sat across from her. All the while, I was counting down the minutes until Cameron’s car pulled up out front and the doorbell rang.
This had become the highlight of my day—waiting for that sound, knowing he’d be on the other side of the door.
How simple it was, and yet how much it meant.
Just him showing up, smiling at me, saying my name like it was something precious.
My life was moving forward, carefully but steadily, collecting new memories that felt like the first stones of a path I was finally meant to walk.
And the thought of it filled me with something I hadn’t dared to feel in a long time: excitement.
It hit me then, how far we’d come. How much we’d broken, how much we’d bled, and somehow we were still standing. Maybe even stronger. We’d laid our mistakes bare, owned the wreckage, and tried—really tried—to rebuild for each other and for the little girl who was our whole world.
But beneath that hard-won triumph was the harder question: what came next? What did moving forward actually mean for us?
Did it mean finding our way back to each other?
Or maybe this was enough—holding on to this fragile balance, where, for once, everything felt steady.
I’d been holding on to those questions for months, and still, I wasn’t sure if I dared to face them.
Cameron was nothing like me. He knew what he wanted—us, together again—and he never tried to hide it.
Yet he waited patiently. I didn’t know how he did it, carrying that hope every day while I gave him so little in return.
The thought of it sat heavily on me, sharper each time I saw him.
Because that fear never really left me—the fear that one day I might slip, lose control, and hurt him the way I had before.
And if that happened, what if he decided he couldn’t do it anymore?
What if he left me again? The memory of losing him once was already unbearable, and I couldn’t imagine surviving it twice.
But then came the next question. What more could he possibly do to prove himself?
He had already stood by me through the worst, already shown me in every way that he wasn’t going anywhere.
This time, he was staying, just as he had stayed with me for ten years of our marriage before he finally broke under the weight of it all and walked away.
I knew I had to learn how to trust again—to stop clinging to the fear and letting it rule me.
I knew I had to believe in myself, too, that I was stronger now, that I could tell the difference between who I was then and who I had become.
I wasn’t going back to the person who had broken everything in her path, not when I had fought so hard to crawl my way out.
Then the sound of the bell rang through the quiet, and before I could stop myself, I straightened in my seat. A smile tugged at my lips, unbidden and unstoppable. He was here.
“That’s Daddy,” Harper said, grinning at me.
“Yes,” I breathed out. “I’ll get the door.”
I pushed back from my seat and hurried across the room. When I pulled the door open, Cameron was there, smiling at me, and I couldn’t stop the wide smile that spread across my face.
“Morning,” he said softly.
“Morning,” I echoed, my eyes on him.
God, I had missed him. Just seeing him standing there made my chest ache most sweetly.
He looked so impossibly handsome in the morning light, his hair still damp from the shower, drops catching on the edges and glinting like they belonged there.
He smelled clean and warm, achingly familiar, and I wanted to breathe him in until I was lost in him.
With that came the sweet, piercing ache of how much I had longed for him—longed to hold him close, to taste his kiss, to lose myself in the breathless intimacy of us once more.
“Ready?” he asked, and the way his eyes lingered on me told me he was longing for me, too.
“Yeah,” I nodded. Lately, I had been going to the hospital with him every day, both in the mornings and evenings.
Together, we would stop by Anita’s to pick up Harper before heading home.
On the nights Harper stayed with him, he would bring me back first and make sure I was safely settled before anything else.
“Harper?” Cameron called as he stepped into the house.
“I’m ready!” she shouted, grabbing her bag before running straight into her dad’s arms. He scooped her up, holding her close and lifting her off the floor, clinging to her as if a single night apart had been far too long.
The sight warmed my heart. Watching them together, I felt a fierce kind of peace settle over me. Harper would never know the pain I had carried through my life. She would never doubt she was wanted, never be left to wonder if she was loved. Not with us.
“Come on, Mommy,” Harper said, tugging me from my thoughts. “We’re going to be late!”
“Okay, sorry,” I laughed softly. “Let me just grab my bag and shoes.”
They waited patiently while I gathered everything, and once I locked the door behind me, we headed to the car together. I helped Harper into the back seat, making sure she was settled before sliding in beside Cameron.
The rest of the drive was filled with Harper singing “You’re Welcome” from Moana on repeat. She never seemed to get tired of it and had every song from the movie memorized by heart.
Cameron and I kept sneaking glances at each other. I let out a chuckle, unable to help myself.
“What?” he asked, curiosity sparking in his eyes.
I shook my head, still smiling.
He laughed softly with me. “Tell me.”
“We kept sneaking glances at each other,” I said with a laugh. “I felt like a teenager again.”
“You know I was always looking at you,” he said lightly. “My eyes just kept finding you.”
“I noticed,” I teased. “You were terrible at being subtle. Everyone probably knew.”
“Good,” he grinned. “I didn’t want to be subtle. I wanted everyone to know how I felt about you.”
“You never had to show it,” I said softly. “I always knew.”
He looked at me for a long moment, his voice soft. “I’m glad you did. Because I don’t think I ever could have hidden it from you.”
We fell into a quiet pause, a gentle ache lingering between us that I couldn’t quite name.
It felt like stepping back into the earliest days of us, when everything was uncharted and fragile, when shyness and longing lived in every glance we shared.
There was something almost melancholy about it because those were the days when we were still untouched by the cracks, when we were simply happy.
And as if Cameron had slipped into the same memory, he broke the silence.
“This reminds me of the time I realized I was falling for you.”
“Yeah?” My voice came out softer than I meant, as if I didn’t want to disturb the moment.
He nodded, his eyes gentle on mine. “Yeah. I remember realizing how much I looked forward to just being near you. No matter how busy the days got, no matter how much the job weighed on me, when I found you, everything felt right.”
“I felt that too,” I whispered. We had both carried it, but we never really spoke it aloud until now.
Back then, during my internship year, every day felt like I was slipping, as if I were one mistake away from failing.
And then there was him. He had been my anchor from the very beginning.
Maybe that was why the thought of losing him terrified me so much, why the fear twisted into resentment until I pushed him away.
We arrived at Anita’s, where she was already waiting on the front porch. Harper leapt out of the car and ran straight into her grandma’s arms.
With a soft smile, Anita glanced from her son to me and gave a small, reassuring nod. There was warmth in her expression, a maternal kind of joy, as if she saw something good and lasting in the two of us that only she could truly recognize.
A sudden urge gripped me, and I didn’t pause to question it. I stepped forward and embraced her. She froze for a moment, startled, then her voice came soft against my ear: “What’s wrong, honey? Are you okay?”
I rested my head against her shoulder, gratitude swelling in my chest for the constancy of her presence in my life. She had never judged me, only supported me, always there when I needed her most. “I just wanted to hold you,” I whispered. “Because I’m so grateful for you.”
She spoke gently, her tone like a soothing hand. “Are you happy now, sweetheart?”
“Yes.” My eyes burned as tears pressed forward. “I feel happy.”
“Oh, Sloane,” she whispered back, her voice warm. “Hold on to this feeling. Remember it so you can return to it whenever you need.”
“I will,” I promised.
We let go of each other, and when I walked back to Cameron, I noticed the way his expression had softened as he looked at me. After waving goodbye to Harper, we headed to the hospital. The drive was quiet, but at one point I reached over, took his hand from the steering wheel, and held it in mine.
I couldn’t believe my eyes. I blinked several times, convinced I was imagining it. A figure stood before me, someone I never thought I would see again, let alone walking toward me.
My mother.
She shifted on her feet in front of me, fidgeting as her eyes met mine. She looked nervous, and my mother was never nervous for anyone except my father.
“What are you doing here?” I asked, forcing my voice to stay even.
“Looking for you, of course.” Her voice was soft. “I want to talk to you.”
“Talk about what?” My reply came out sharper than I intended. “There’s nothing to talk about between us.”
“You see…” She faltered. “Well…”
She really was nervous, as if she could not quite form the words she wanted to say.
“I’m busy,” I said, turning away. “And please, stay out of my life.”