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"Night, Liv," I manage, the words catching in my throat.
She trots off, her footsteps a soft patter against the hardwood floors until they fade away.
Now it's just Avery and me, alone in the dimlight of the living room. Her eyes meet mine, and there's a spark there that wasn't there before tonight.
"Looks like we've got some cleaning up to do," she says, breaking the silence.
"Looks like." My heart hammers, but I follow her lead, picking up plates and cups, moving around each other in an easy dance.
"Hey," she pauses, her hand on my arm. "Thanks. For everything today."
"Anytime," I reply, meaning every word.
Chapter Fifty-Two
Avery
The highway stretches outbefore us, a gray ribbon cutting through the rolling hills. I'm slouched in the passenger seat, watching the world blur by. It's like waking up from one of those dreams that's so good you try to fall back asleep just to slip back into it. But this... this was real. The laughter, the warmth, the feeling of letting go – all real. And now, as Worcester looms ahead, a pang of sadness hits me. Weird, right? Home should feel good.
Victor's hand finds mine, his grip firm yet gentle. He knows. Not a word said, but he knows.
"Where's Marcus?" Olivia's voice cuts through my thoughts, her eyes not lifting from the colorful pixels dancing on her Game Boy screen.
"Visiting family for the holidays," Victor replies, his gaze flicking briefly to the rearview mirror.
"Are you gonna go back to Boston, then?" Her question is innocent, but it's loaded with more hope and fear than she realizes.
Victor doesn't miss a beat, turning to me with those piercing blue eyes, the kind that have seen too much yet still dare to dream. "For the foreseeable future, I'm staying in Worcester," he says, and I swear there's a promise wrapped in those words, something solid and reassuring.
It's a strange thing, seeing Victor here, in this moment. The man who's always had walls higher than skyscrapers, letting them crumble piece by piece. For a guy who learned life's hard lessons on the ice, who skated alone on frozen ponds when the families he hoped would keep him fell through, there's a warmth in him now that wasn't there before. Like a thaw after the longest winter.
"Really?" Olivia's voice is hopeful, her game momentarily forgotten.
"Really," he confirms, smiling at her reflection in the mirror before his eyes meet mine again. There's a silent conversation there, a depth that goes beyond words. We're in this together – whatever this is shaping up to be.
The gravel crunches under the tires as we pull into the driveway. The familiarity of home wraps aroundme, but it's tinged with a pang of something like loss. I'm not ready to let go of the bubble we created these past days.
"Freedom!" Olivia's cheer cuts through my thoughts as she bursts out of the car and dashes for the front door, her energy uncaged after hours cooped up. Her laughter echoes back to us.
"Here, let me help with those." Victor's voice is gentle, his hands reaching for the bags in the trunk. His touch lingers just a moment longer than necessary, grounding me.
"Thanks," I mutter, watching Olivia disappear inside. When the door slams shut, it feels final, and suddenly it's just Victor and me, alone in the silence that follows.
We head inside, and I can hear Olivia's footsteps thumping up to her room. Victor sets the bags down by the stairs, and there's a tension between us, an unspoken conversation waiting to spill over.
"Victor..." I start, then pause, unsure how to voice the fear coiling in my stomach. "I'm worried you're setting Olivia up—setting us both up—for disappointment."
He frowns, a line appearing between his brows. "What do you mean?"
"Whenever you say you're staying here... It makes it seem like you won't leave. But that can't be true, can it?" My words hang in the air, heavy and uncertain. It's hard to ignore the way my heart quickens at the thought ofhim leaving, taking the newfound brightness from our lives.
"Eventually, you'll go back to Boston." I say it like it's a fact, like the sun rising and setting, because isn't it? Isn't that what always happens in the end?
"Is that what you think?" He steps closer, the blue in his eyes darkening like the twilight sky. "That I'll just walk away?"
"Isn't that the pattern?" I challenge softly, looking up at him. There's a vulnerability in my voice I can't hide.
"Patterns can be broken, Avery." His words are a whisper, a secret shared between us.