A breath leaves me, shaky and relieved, and she hauls me into a cinnamon-and-bourbon hug. “Thank you.”
Robyn reappears then, two mugs in hand, cheeksflushed. She settles against my side with such ease I thoroughly believe there’s no place she’d rather be.
Mom smiles. “I’ll bring it on my January visit. We’ll do brunch. Maybe a show. I’ll make sure it’s a perfect fit.”
“Perfect fit for what?” Robyn asks, confused but amused.
“For the future, dear,” Mom says, and winks.
Robyn looks at me, puzzled, but shrugs it off. Mom smiles at us, and I know she can’t see what I do. A future as bright as the snow outside.
I’m going to marry this woman.
CHAPTER 2
The Opportunity
Robyn
Thirteen Months Later
Winter in Chicagodoes strange things to convince you the worst has passed once January wears on. Hardened piles of snow paired with a sunny blue sky make you think it’s warmer than it is.
The sun shimmers across the frozen lake and catches on the white blanket of snow spread over the soccer field to our right. Nate and I walk along the lakeshore paths, enjoying time together before we meet up with our friends and then his mom for brunch. Smirking, I run ahead, scoop some snow, roll it in a ball, and lob it right at his head.
Snowflakes blend in with the way his hair falls in loose, deliberate waves—dark brown at first glance but threaded with a soft rust-red glow. Not different from the passion he hides for everything and everyone he cares about beneath his calm, quiet demeanor. He arches a brow and tilts his head,sending more snow sliding loose. Water trails down his cheek, winding through the trimmed facial hair along his jaw—not quite stubble and not quite a beard.
“Are you happy with yourself?” The bridge of his nose is smooth and straight, widening into perfectly symmetrical nostrils. He looks sculpted rather than born, giving him a composed, almost restrained edge.
He never keeps that edge with me for long, though. His eyes wrinkle at the edges in amusement he can’t hide, and like every time he’s truly happy, there’s a deep amber-red flicker in his irises, betraying his glee. You’d miss it—unless you’ve spent as much time looking into his eyes as I have.
Nate falls into step next to me, wrapping his right arm around my shoulder and balancing his bike with his left one. Then he dips down to kiss me, his bottom lip much fleshier than the top. His stubble tickles the skin at my Cupid’s bow, and when I swipe my tongue at his lips, the bike falls and his palm presses flat in the center of my back.
As much as I love this,“We’re going to be late, and Andrzej won’t be pleased.”
He scoffs. “Andrzej can wait while I kiss you silly.”
His tongue swipes into my mouth, and I laugh into the kiss, resting my forehead against his for a heartbeat. He flashes that lopsided smile that showcases more of his teeth on the left side. Then he grabs his bike from the ground before we fall into step again.
When we reach Armitage Avenue, neither his friend nor mine is there. I take a few steps ahead, trying to spot my friend in the distance. Something cold and harsh hits me from the back, knocking my hat onto the ground. When I look back, Nate’s bending to gather snow, compressing it into a sphere as if he’s getting it ready for load-bearing integrity.
“Cheap shot,” I say. I return a poor shot, and it hits his shoulder without so much as making him flinch.
We grin at each other. Days like this don’t just feel normal, they are the reason I can do what I do. Why I can spend hours over scans and test results searching for answers and often giving news I wish were different. With Nate here, the signals fire cleanly, without static, and there are no lesions lighting up on any scans.
Walking toward us from the south, Julian approaches with his hands tucked into his coat pockets, dark hair ruffled by the wind. Andrzej rides in from the west a few yards away—tall, pale, blond, already scowling as though the cold has personally insulted him. When the four of us converge, Julian and Nate fist-bump. Andrzej’s already complaining about Nate’s speed, urging him to get going and push a few extra miles on their ride.
“Brunch at eleven,” Nate says, brushing snow from my sleeve before pressing a quick kiss to my lips. “I’ll meet you there. Mom’s already texted twice.”
Then he swings his leg over his bike and pedals south alongside Andrzej, the two of them quickly shrinking against the bright snow.
Julian smirks. “What a stupid hobby.” His arm slides around my side, giving me a tight squeeze.
“I agree.” I lean into him, returning the hug. “That’s why I’m glad he has Andrzej. He bikes, so I don’t have to.”
Julian rolls his eyes, a sliver of white visible between his eyelids, then his glacial blue gaze snaps back to me.
I step away and gesture down the path. “Let’s get coffee. I’m exhausted.”
