Chapter 24
Morning hits with an ache in my chest and a pit in my stomach.
The second I blink awake, I reach for my phone, praying for a message from Linc that says yesterday didn’t end the way I remember it.
Sadly, the screen is blank. Same as it was at midnight. Same as it was at two a.m. when I rolled over and checked again.
The knowledge only sours my mood further, but if I’m being honest, I’m more upset at myself than him.
With a heavy sigh, I drag myself out of bed and pad down the hall in my tiny pajama shorts and oversized Always the Wedding Planner, Never the Bride T-shirt Ellie bought me. My hair is doing something that could probably qualify as a felony, but I don’t care. I have no one to impress right now.
Maybe never again…
The dramatic thought has me close to bursting into tears.
Hattie’s already at the table, sipping orange juice and flipping through the classified section of the local newspaper. She looks up as I enter the kitchen, eyes scanning me once, then again, clearly shocked by my disheveled appearance.
“Morning,” she greets gently.
“Morning.” The mutter slips out, thick with sleep, as I reach for the coffee pot.
“No word from Linc, I take it?”
I shake my head and sink into the chair across from her. “Nope. Still radio silence.”
Granted, he’s on shift, but even when he’s working, I get something. A message. A meme. A dirty thought or two. And I always get a good night text.
Not last night. Just silence, and the echo of my own foolish regret.
“Maybe you should text him,” she offers, her tone careful.
“Why should I be the one to reach out first? He’s the one who walked out on our lunch.”
Of course, this was after I panicked over a stupid key and stared at him like he’d tossed me a live grenade when he said he loved me. All because I’m a big, fat scaredy-cat.
“Does that really matter if you’re miserable?”
“Yes.” My answer is quick…too quick.
“Why?”
I open my mouth, ready to list all the reasons, but nothing comes out, my bravado slipping away.
“What if he doesn’t want to talk to me?” I whisper, letting out my worst fear. “What if I messed up too badly this time?”
She gives me that patient, older-sister look, the kind that somehow sees all the things I don’t say out loud. “He’s going to forgive you, Harlow.”
“How can you be so sure?” I barely manage the words through the burn in my throat.
“Because that man has been all in since day one,” she says. “Even after you massacred his bike. Ruined his science project. He still showed up. I mean, come on, he left the freaking province to be your fake boyfriend at my wedding. Something, I still can’t wrap my head around, by the way…”
Amusement brushes the ache in my chest.
After coming home a blubbering mess yesterday, I finally broke down and told her everything, including the fake boyfriend scandal. To say she was shocked is a massive understatement. The look on her face would have been comical if I hadn’t been drowning in sadness and regret.
“If he can still show up after all that, he can forgive you for guarding your heart a little too closely,” she finishes.
I stare into my coffee, wishing it was that simple, but remembering the look on his face after he said those words…it’s something I’m never going to forgive myself for, so why should he?
Hattie hesitates, fingers tracing the rim of her glass before she speaks again. “Can I ask you something?”
I nod, bracing at the pause.
“Why are you so scared to love him?”
The question hits low. My chest tightens, snagging on the truth I’ve been trying to ignore.
“I’m not scared to love him, Hattie. I already do. I think I have for a long time.” My voice dips, softer now. “It’s losing him that terrifies me.”
The smile she gives me is sad. “Know what’s even scarier?”
She doesn’t rush to answer, just holds my gaze, warm with understanding.
“Never knowing love at all.”
Her words hit with a quiet force, echoing the same sentiment Penny, Hollis, and Ellie shared with me weeks ago. Not dramatic. Not performative. Just true.
It falls on an exhale I didn’t realize I was holding. “God, I’m so screwed up,” I murmur, dragging a hand through my hair.
Her eyes spark, warm and amused. “You and me both. I blame Mom and Dad for it.”
A laugh escapes, because she’s not wrong. “Have you talked to Mom yet?” I ask, reaching for my coffee.
“No,” she mutters. “But I will. Today.”
“Good. Because I’m running out of excuses, and the last thing I need is her showing up here unannounced.”
It would be an absolute disaster.
Her groan echoes my exact thoughts. “That makes two of us.” She pushes from her chair, dumping her glass in the sink “I need to grab a shower first. I’ve got that meeting with the divorce lawyer later today. Mind if I steal more of your clothes?”
I gesture toward the hallway without looking up. “Have at it.”
“Thanks. I’ll get on the moving company soon. Promise.”
I’m not worried about it, and she knows it. She has enough to carry right now.
Her arms circle my shoulders from behind, warm and certain, the weight of her chin resting lightly on my head. “I love you. Thank you for everything these last few days.”
Emotion grips my throat. It’s not just those words but the feel of her arms around me. It’s everything I’ve missed since we were kids, everything I once thought we’d never have again.
My hand finds her arm as I lean into the hug. “I love you too.”
She gives me one last squeeze before letting go. “Call him.”
Then she’s gone, disappearing into the bathroom, the faint sound of running water drifting down the hall.
I stare at my phone like it holds the key to my entire future, thoughts tangled in everything I want to say but can’t seem to find the words for.
What if I’m too late? What if he doesn’t even want to hear from me?
The sudden buzz cuts through my spiraling thoughts, the vibration jolting the phone across the table.
My heart lifts, hope rushing…only to deflate when I see Hollis’s name on the screen.
I swallow the disappointment and answer. “Hey, what’s up?”
“Hey…” Her voice is quiet, subdued in a way that instantly puts me on alert. “Have you heard from Linc by any chance?”
The question throws me, a ripple of unease curling through my stomach. “Not since yesterday. He’s on rotation. Why?”
The pause is too long. Too heavy.
A slow chill creeps down my spine.
“Hollis.” Her name scrapes past the lump in my throat. “What’s going on?”
A shaky exhale bleeds through the line. “Mike’s gonna kill me for calling you,” she mutters, but pushes on. “We were at breakfast when he got the call. I don’t know everything, but apparently there was a gas leak at the old mill, and while the firefighters were checking it out…”
A beat. Barely a breath.
“…the building collapsed.”
The words fracture beneath the roar in my ears. I can’t move, can’t breathe—paralyzed by something even deeper than fear.
“I don’t know how bad it is,” she adds quickly. “Only that he was taken to the hospital.”
The world snaps back into motion.
I shove to my feet, swiping my keys from the counter. “Which one?”
“Lancaster. Room 209, I think. But let me come get you—we can go together and—”
“No,” the protest chokes out of me. “I’m sorry, but I can’t wait. I have to go now.”
Breathing is impossible. Waiting even more so…
Nothing matters but getting to him.
I’m already outside, slippers slapping against the porch steps.
“Okay,” she says gently. “Just…drive safe. I’ll call if I hear anything else.”
“Thanks.”
Ending the call, I toss the phone onto the passenger seat without looking, my tires screeching as I tear out of the driveway.
My hands tremble on the wheel, knuckles white, denial and dread battling inside my chest as a storm of images flash behind my eyes—sirens blaring, concrete collapsing, his name shouted through the chaos.
What if he’s unconscious? What if he’s too hurt to even know I’m there? What if I’m too late?
A sob breaks loose, the thought of never getting the chance to tell him how sorry I am—how much I love him—completely unraveling me.
“Please let him be okay. Please…”
Through the tears, Heart Mountain rises into view. It’s presence solid and still, like it’s the only thing left standing in the wreckage.
As if it heard the call of my breaking heart.
I lock onto its silhouette, panic clawing at the edges as hope hangs on by a thread.
“If there was ever a time to prove yourself…it’s now.” The words fall on a breathless prayer, desperate and torn.
It happens suddenly. In the space between one heartbeat and the next, something flashes, a flicker of warmth pushing through the fear, subtle but undeniable.
It’s strong enough to anchor the spiral, not calm, not even close, but enough to carry me through. I cling to it with everything I am and before long, the hospital comes into view—cold, sterile, and unwelcoming.
I swerve into the lot like I’m outrunning fate, kill the engine, and throw the door open in the same breath.
The moment I step inside, I’m hit with the pungent smell of disinfectant and relentless glare of fluorescent lights.
The ER buzzes around me, phones shrilling, machines whining, voices slicing through the air with clipped efficiency.
I scan the chaos, desperate for something familiar. Hollis. Mike. A firefighter’s uniform. But all I find are strangers—faces drawn tight with worry, footsteps too quick, too practiced.
Down the corridor, a sign snags my gaze: Room 209.
I bolt toward it, heart lodged in my throat, but just as I reach the door, a nurse steps into my path, bringing me up short.
“Can I help you?” she asks, her tone calm, controlled.
Words tangle in my throat before I manage to force them out. “I’m here to see someone. I was told he’s in room 209.”
Her expression shifts, eyes narrowing just slightly. “Are you family?”
Shit…I did not think this through.
“Uh, yeah. I’m…his wife.”