Chapter 16 Love Is Scary
LOVE IS SCARY
MADISON
“What are you doing there, sweetie?”
“Hmm?” I blink, finding Mom shuffling in, wearing her soft pink pyjamas, hair pushed back with a headband.
She leans down, pressing a kiss to my forehead before settling in next to me on the couch and plucking the remote out of my hand.
“I’m overthinking everything, Mom.” I sigh, tucking my legs beneath me.
It’s been two weeks since Hunter showed me his mom’s letters, and he still hasn’t given Halle hers.
He hasn’t asked me to be there when he opens the next one either.
It feels like we haven’t spent much time together at all.
I still get his Hi friend text every morning.
We still see each other at work, sure, but it’s in passing.
Quick smiles, quick jokes with the guys, and quick goodbyes.
I can’t tell if he’s holding back because I said friends one too many times and he’s respecting that, or if life is just busy.
He’s throwing himself back into Whiskey Cove, helping Sarah and Remi get settled into a new town, new routines, with new people, and I’m here working, helping Halle where I can with Studio Joy, and volunteering at the hospital more.
Everything between us right now feels surface level, like we’re too scared to go deeper.
“Well, that explains the trashy TV and why you’re curled on my couch at one in the afternoon while I was sleeping.”
She shuffles over, grabbing the blanket draped across the back of the couch.
Without a word, she spreads it over us and gently pulls me into her side until my head rests in her lap.
The room falls quiet, the TV muted, as she strokes my hair, waiting for me to speak.
Her touch is slow, patient, soothing the knots in my chest. This is one of the things I love the most about her.
The unwavering support. The way her presence alone settles the noise in my head.
No matter what happens in my life, I can always come back home.
She’s my calm. My logic. My haven. She doesn’t judge me, and she always listens.
My heart pinches as my thoughts drift to Halle and Hunter.
What they never got, what they’ll never get.
Moments like this. A mother’s protection, understanding, and love.
They’ve missed out on so much without their mom.
“Talk to me, sweetie.”
I let out a long breath. “I… I miss him, Mom.”
Her hand pauses for a second before continuing its slow, comforting sweep through my hair. “Hunter?”
I nod, pulling the blanket to my chin. “I thought I needed space. I thought I needed to find myself without him.” My voice wobbles.
Mom doesn’t say anything; she gives me the time I need to find the right words.
“I’m starting to realize I feel the most myself when I’m with him,” I say, my voice gaining strength the more I speak. “He makes me feel safe, like I can be me… all of me, you know?”
“You two have always been drawn to each other,” she says quietly.
“He doesn’t judge me. He sees me,” I add.
I stare at the muted TV, blinking back the sting behind my eyes. “I’ve forgiven him… for leaving. He told me his reasons, and I get it. Everything he’s faced, he was just trying to protect me in the process. In his own stupid way.”
“But?” she prompts, tracing her thumb along my temple.
“What if I’m not ready to let him all in?” My chest tightens. “What if I leap and he doesn’t catch me. What if he disappears again and decides to never look back?”
She exhales softly. “Sweetie, you two have been playing hot and cold for years, and when you came to me and finally said you’d had enough and told him no more, I asked you what he said back… Remind me again what that was?”
I close my eyes, replaying that night. The gravel in his voice. The way he looked at me, like I was the only certain thing in his whole messy world. “He said… ‘One day, I’ll give you all of it. One day, I’m going to beg for you to give me the chance to show the world you’re mine.’”
“Do you think maybe that one day is now?” she asks gently. “Maybe this is him asking for that chance to prove it to you.”
“Maybe, but I’m scared.” My fingers curl in the blanket.
Her hand squeezes my shoulder. “My beautiful, independent girl… Love is scary. It’s consuming. It’s everything we hope for. If you’re scared, it means you’re afraid to lose them.”
“Who said I’m in love?” My cheeks heat.
A soft laugh escapes her, and I turn, glaring up at her. She grins down at me, her brows raised in that all too familiar yeah, okay motherly look.
“Can’t you just tell me what to do?” I mumble. “You’re good at that. You always seem to know the right way.”
“That’s because I’m your mother,” she says, tucking a strand of hair behind my ear. “You know what to do, sweetie.”
I let out a slow breath, fiddling with the blanket.
“You need to talk to him, tell him you’re scared. I’m pretty sure he’ll tell you the same thing right back.” She pauses, leaning over to grab my phone from the coffee table and handing it to me. “But for the love of God, one of you needs to make the first move.”
“Aren’t the men supposed to make the first move?” I grumble.
Mom scoots out from under me with a chuckle. “Trust me, waiting for a man to make the first move is like waiting for rain in a drought.”
My head drops back against the couch cushion, and I sit up, watching her retreat to the kitchen.
“Sounds like you have some experience with that.” I snicker.
“You have no idea, sweetie,” she calls over her shoulder, laughter threading through her voice.
Make the first move.
I can do that, and what’s the worst that can happen? He tells me he can’t right now, and we go back to square one? If I take the leap and make the move, at least I’ll finally have all the answers I need. My thumb hovers over his name, nerves swooping low in my belly as I pull up our text thread.
Me: Hi friend.
I hit send, and immediately start chewing on my thumb.
This is the first time I’ve texted. It’s always been him first and me staring at my phone like an idiot, hoping today isn’t the day he stops.
Now he’s probably staring at my message, wondering if I’ve hit my head when we’ve already texted this morning. Oh God, why am I so bad at this?
Heat crawls up my neck. I flip my phone face down, tapping anxiously against the back of it.
Maybe I should have just gone to see him instead.
I’ve always shown up unannounced. Why would today be any different?
And if he’s not home, Sarah or Halle might be.
I could say I’m there to see them instead.
My phone vibrates, and I jump out of my skin. For a full second, I stare at it, heart hammering, before I flip it over.
Hunter: I was just thinking about you, friend.
My stomach dips.
Me: You were?
Hunter: I was.
Me: Oh…
My thumbs hover on the screen, panic setting in.
Hunter: Wanna know what I was thinking?
Me: If it’s something bad, then no. I don’t want to know
Hunter: I could never think anything bad about you.
Hunter: Wait I lied.
Hunter: There is one thing I hate.
Me: Let me guess, you don’t like it when I don’t share my muffins?
My breath catches. Joking feels safer than whatever this could be.
Hunter: No… I hate it when you use the word friend.
My pulse stutters. I stare at the screen, re-reading over and over. Is he…
Me: Oh…
Well, I guess that answers some of my confusion. Right? It has to. Doesn’t it?
“Madison.” My head snaps up, finding Mom standing at the end of the couch, arms crossed, a small smile tugging at her mouth. “Take the leap.”
I nod, sucking in a sharp breath. My thumbs hover for a moment, then fly over the screen.
Me: I hate using the word friend too but I’m scared.
His reply comes instantly, easing the nervous flutter in my stomach.
Hunter: I’m scared too.
Hunter: We could be scared together?
Me: I don’t know…
Hunter: I know it’s your night off, but come to the bar after closing tonight. Have a drink with me. Play a game of pool?
I bite the inside of my cheek, my hands shaking slightly as I type.
Me: Okay.
I glance down at my ripped denim shorts and off-white tank top, scrunching my nose.
I’m going to need to go home and put myself together first. A sudden rush of excitement hits me, and I spring to my feet, folding the blanket neatly and draping it back over the couch.
I reach for the TV remote, turning it off.
Spinning on my heel, I call out, “Hey, Mom!”
“Tell Hunter I said hi,” she shouts back from down the hall, laughing softly.
I grin, my chest fluttering, and take in a deep breath.