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.”
