Chapter Fifty Nine
Camille
The diner lights faded into the distance as Hunter’s truck rolled back toward town. I sat in the passenger seat, arms folded tight across my chest, still unsure if I’d made the right choice.
When he pulled into his complex, I hesitated. “Hunter…”
He cut the engine, turning toward me. “No pressure. If you want me to drive you home right now, I will. I just—” His voice broke a little. “I want you to see I’m not running this time.”
Something in his tone soothed the parts of me threatening to fold.
I nodded slowly, unbuckled my seat belt, and followed him upstairs.
His apartment was still tidy, too tidy, like no one lived there.
The couch cushions were square, the coffee table clear except for a few magazines and the remote.
It didn’t feel cozy or lived-in the way my cluttered, toy-filled apartment did.
Sinking into the edge of the couch, I fired off a quick check-in with my mom; her reply was almost a welcome distraction.
Mom: Kids are perfect. Zeke said he’s
“in charge” until you get home.
Don’t worry, I only let him make
minor executive decisions.
Me: You’re spoiling them. I’ll be
home soon.
Mom: Take your time, Camille. Hear
him out. And maybe remind him
my baby girl doesn’t play around.
Me: You’re enjoying this too much.
Mom: Always. Now stop texting and
go figure out if this man is worth
my grandbabies’ time.
I slipped the phone back into my bag, exhaling slowly.
Leave it to her to cut right through me with a mix of love and sass.
Hunter came out of the kitchen then, two glasses of water in his hands.
He set one in front of me and sat across from me, elbows on his knees.
“I know you don’t trust me yet,” he said quietly.
“I don’t blame you. But I’m here. And I’m not leaving until you’ve heard everything I should’ve said before. ”
I stared at the water glass, my reflection rippling on its surface. My guard was still up, my heart still sore. I let myself lean back against the couch and hear him out.