Jude’s voice is softer when he continues. “This is the first time any of us have cared about someone like this.”
Norah’s fingers tighten slightly in the blanket. She nods, slow and thoughtful, like she’s taking that in and weighing it.
“We want a chance to make you happy,” Ryker adds. “Not fix you. Not decide for you. Just… be part of your life in a way that adds something instead of taking.”
The words hit me square in the chest. I feel the truth of them echo against my ribs. I’ve wanted so many things in my life with urgency and ambition, but this feels different. Quieter. More deliberate.
“I fucked up with you,” I say, turning fully toward Norah now. “I walked away when I should have stayed. I convinced myself distance was safer than honesty. I’m grateful I’m being given a second chance.”
Her lips part. She doesn’t interrupt. She listens.
Ryker shifts closer to the couch, resting his forearm along the back without crowding her. “We’re not asking you to promise anything tonight.”
Jude nods. “We just want to be clear about where we stand.”
Norah studies each of us in turn, eyes bright, expression serious but not closed. “I care about you,” she says simply. “All of you. What happened wasn’t an accident. It mattered to me.”
The room seems to warm another degree.
Ryker’s gaze drops briefly to her legs tucked beneath her. “Are you still sore?”
The question is gentle.
Her cheeks darken, but she smiles. “A little.”
He hums softly, approval and care tangled together. “We’ll take it easy.”
I move before I overthink it, leaning in to kiss her. My mouth meets hers with intention, heat blooming slow and sure between us. She opens to me willingly, fingers slipping into my scarf, pulling me closer.
Ryker joins without asking, his hand warm at her waist, his mouth finding her neck, careful but possessive.
Jude rises from the floor, hands braced on the couch as he leans in, kissing her temple, her cheek, the corner of her mouth like he’s reminding her he’s there too.
She makes a sound that goes straight through me, breathy and honest. Her hands reach, one finding Ryker’s wrist, the other catching Jude’s sleeve.
The kiss deepens, bodies pressing closer, heat pooling low and insistent.
Then Jude’s phone rings.
He stills instantly, breath leaving him on a quiet curse. “Give me a minute.”
He steps away, phone pressed to his ear, shoulders tensing as he listens.
“Okay,” he says. “Calm down. Start from the top. What is going on?”
Ryker and I pull back just enough to look at each other. Norah’s eyes search our faces, concern flickering.
Jude’s voice sharpens. “Okay, calm down and tell me what the hell happened.”
There’s no discussion about it. No argument.
The keys are already in his hand when the call ends, his face pale and sharp with focus in a way that tells me this isn’t the first emergency he’s navigated in his life.
He moves with purpose, coat already on, phone pressed to his ear as he jogs toward the truck.
“Give me the keys. I’ll drive,” I tell him. Jude concedes.
Ryker climbs into the back with him, one knee braced against the seat, eyes locked on Jude’s expression like he’s trying to read the story before it finishes being told.
