Chapter Twenty Five
Camille
Dani had been at the house bright and early the day after dinner to catch up on the prior night’s events.
The house still smelled faintly of garlic from last night’s spaghetti.
The kids were camped out on the couch, cartoons flickering blue across their faces.
I leaned against the counter, nursing a cup of coffee that had already gone lukewarm, caught somewhere between exhaustion and the afterglow of last night.
Dinner unfolded softer than I’d let myself hope.
Hunter moved through the house with a quiet steadiness, filling the space without ever asking for it.
He knelt beside Zeke, helping him piece together the little spaceship, laughter mingling with the twins’ shrieks.
Every so often, his eyes would find mine, a flicker of something gentle that left my cheeks flushed.
Later, he rolled up his sleeves and started on the dishes while I wrangled pajamas and toothbrushes, no words needed.
Just there, as if he’d always known how to fit into the edges of our evening.
My eyes drifted to the bouquet on the counter.
That was him too, the small, deliberate gestures that said more than grand ones ever could.
He didn’t show up empty-handed, and it wasn’t about impressing me.
Every gift, every word, every quiet act felt intentional.
Thoughtful. Like he’d been paying attention all along.
By the time my mom arrived for her usual Saturday visit, the story had already spilled out of me twice—to Dani, and to myself, replaying it in my head.
“You look good,” Mom said, stepping through the door with her ever-present tote bag and a bakery box. “Did something good happen, or did you finally sleep a full night?”
I smiled into my coffee. “Not exactly sleep. Dinner went really well last night. The kids loved him. He even cleaned up while I got them ready for bed.”
Dani, perched on the arm of the couch, nearly choked on her muffin. “Hold up. He cleaned? Like, voluntarily? You left that part out!”
“Yep,” I said, grinning. “Didn’t even have to ask.”
She pointed her mug at me. “That’s husband material, Cam.”
“Daniela,” Mom warned, though the edge of her mouth twitched.
“What? I’m serious. Men who do dishes are unicorns.”
I rolled my eyes, fighting back a smile. “It’s not like that. We’re just… taking it slow.”
Mom sat beside me, her smile softening. “That’s good. Taking it slow is smart. But, honey…” She hesitated—the same pause she always took before saying something she wasn’t sure I’d want to hear. “You said he was military, right?”
I recognized that tone, the one she used when she wanted to shield me without pushing me away.
She was always the first to nudge me out the door, whether it was brunch with Dani or a rare date night while she kept the kids.
But I knew her worries about dating came from somewhere deep, carrying the weight of old hurts she never quite put down.
“Former Marine,” I said quietly. “He got out a couple of years ago.”
Her face softened, but the worry lingered there, the kind that had lived in the lines around her eyes for as long as I could remember.
“You know I respect that. But it’s not easy, being with someone who’s seen that kind of life. I just don’t want you walking into something that could break your heart.”
Dani leaned forward, always ready to defend me. “I think Hunter’s different. He’s not Cami’s dad.”
Mom exhaled slowly. “Different is good. I just want you to have fun, to get out of the house, to smile more. Just don’t lose yourself in someone else’s story.”
Her face gentled, but the worry stayed, etched into the lines at the corners of her eyes.
The kind that had settled there over the years.
Her words weren’t sharp, just heavy with old ache.
I understood. She spoke from scars, not from judgment.
Still, something in me bristled, a quiet urge to defend what I was starting to feel.
I reached for her shoulder, my fingers tracing the tension until it eased.
“I know, Mom,” I murmured, hoping she could feel the truth in my touch as much as in my words. “I promise I’ll be careful.”
I’d be lying if I said I hadn’t had my own concerns.
I could see the subtle ways that the military left its mark on Hunter, and I’d spent enough time in school to know what trauma can do to a person; I wasn’t naive.
But Hunter hadn’t given me any reasons to be concerned.
If anything, he was the one with all of the reasons to run for the hills.
I was the one who came with what felt like hundreds of pounds of baggage.
Mom sighed, but her eyes softened. “I’m glad, sweetheart. I really am. It just makes me nervous, that’s all. You’ve been through so much. I don’t want anyone undoing all the strength you’ve built.”
“I know,” I said quietly. “He’s not perfect. But he shows up, makes me laugh. He actually cares. And that’s… more than I’ve had in a long time.”
Dani leaned back, crossing her arms with a satisfied smirk. “See? I like him already. Plus, he’s a major upgrade from that guy—”
I groaned, cutting her off. “Oh my gosh, don’t start.”
“What?… I mean, it sets a high bar. Maybe it’s time I rethink my own standards.” A playful, yet honest tone slipped through. “Does he have any single Marine friends?”
Before I could respond, my phone buzzed against the table. Once. Twice.
Dani’s brows lifted. “Oh, look who can’t wait for his good-morning text.”
I ignored her and picked up the phone, though the smile was already tugging at my mouth.
Hunter: Good morning, Beautiful.
Hunter: Thank you for last night.
I’m pretty sure I liked it just as
much as they did. Maybe more.
Me: You only say that because you
got extra dessert.
Hunter: That helped. But that’s not
what I meant.
Me: Oh?
Hunter: I meant being there with you
and them.
It just felt right, in that way you can’t quite name but know all the same.
I tried to suppress the grin spreading across my face, but Dani leaned over my shoulder before I could turn the screen away.
“AW,” she said, gasping dramatically. “He’s sweet. Like, emotionally stable and everything.”
“Dani,” I hissed, laughing despite myself.
Mom pretended not to eavesdrop, but her voice carried amusement. “He said that?”
I bit my lip, typing before I could overthink it.
Me: You have a way of saying things that
makes it hard to know what to text back.
Hunter: No response needed. Just know
I meant it.
Heat climbed up my neck. I took another sip of coffee just to hide it.
Me: You did great with them. Zeke’s
already asked if you’d come back.
Hunter: Guess I made the cut, huh?
Me: Looks like it. My mom might be a
tougher critic, though.
When I set the phone down, Dani was grinning like she’d just witnessed a rom-com montage come to life.
“He really likes you,” she said. “It’s about time someone does.”
Mom sighed, still cautious but gentler now. “I’m glad he makes you happy, sweetheart. Go out, have fun, laugh a little. You deserve that, no matter where this goes.”
I nodded, smiling faintly. “I know. And I am having fun.”
Dani smirked. “I’ll bet.”
“Dani!”
“What? It’s a compliment.” She winked.
I groaned. “Nope, we’re not doing this again.”
Mom chuckled softly. “Dani’s not wrong. He sounds… good for you.”
“Yeah,” I said, unable to stop the smile tugging at my lips. “I think he is…”
Mom reached across the table, her hand warm over mine. “Just be careful with that big heart of yours. I know how you love. All in. No guardrails. That’s a beautiful thing, but it’s also what makes you vulnerable.”
“I know,” I whispered. “But maybe… It’s okay to let someone in.”
Her eyes glistened just enough to make me look away.
Dani broke the silence, nudging my shoulder. “And if he ever hurts you, I’ll key his car.”
I laughed, shaking my head. “I’ll take the motorcycle,” I said playfully.
Her grin widened. “Even better.”
Mom sighed, but there was laughter in it now. “Lord help him if he crosses either of you.”
I smiled into my coffee, warmth spreading through me. Between my mom’s cautious love, Dani’s reckless loyalty, and Hunter’s quiet steadiness, I realized something I hadn’t let myself feel in a long time.
I wasn’t bracing for the next heartbreak anymore.
I was just… living.
And when my phone buzzed again on the table, I didn’t even need to read it to know who it was.
Hunter: I’ll earn her approval too.
I laughed, shaking my head as both women leaned closer to peek at the screen.
Mom smiled despite herself. “He might actually pull it off.”