Page 39

“He always hid gummy bears in his locker at the station because he said someone at the station was stealing them from the drawer where he kept them in the kitchen,” he explains, and his lips curl at the memory.

“I’m positive he didn’t keep track of how many he was eating, so he would run out before he could realize.

” He chuckles at the memory, and emotion clogs my throat.

To many, it might not seem like a big deal what Jack just did, but, after hearing about his battle with his grief yesterday, it shows the strides he’s making.

“What was he like?” I ask carefully, wanting to know more about the person who meant so much to him as Evee makes herself busy with her toys.

There’s a hint of sadness in Jack’s smile as he thinks about how he wants to answer my question.

“He was a lot like Luke,” he says. “Not as happy-go-lucky, but he was always so positive and wanted to make the people around him smile.” Jack looks off into the distance, the sunlight making his dark hair look less like chocolate and more like caramel.

He lets out a sigh. “He was the kind of guy who’d drop everything to help you—loyal to the core, almost to a fault.

He had a sense of humor that could pull you out of the darkest place, but he also knew how to kick your ass into gear when you needed it.

He made life feel lighter just by being in the room.

” He speaks with a quiet reverence, eyes distant as he recalls his best friend.

Each word carries the weight of loss, yet also the warmth of a friendship that even death can’t erase.

“I think he’d be really proud of you,” I tell him, reaching for his hand and giving it a small squeeze before bringing my hand back to my lap. “He kind of sounds like he was your soulmate.”

Jack turns back to me and gives me a look, raising an eyebrow. His lips pressed into a thin line, his eyes fixed on me with a mix of disbelief and amusement. “It wasn’t like that.”

“Careful, Jack. Don’t let that toxic masculinity show.”

“Isn’t a soulmate who you fall in love with? I loved Bennett, but we weren’t in a relationship,” he argues. “Even though some people would argue we were,” he mutters, and I roll my lips together hoping to hide the giggle that threatens to escape.

“Well, I like to think a soulmate is someone whose soul feels familiar, even after you’ve just met.

” I look down at my hands, memories of my childhood coming to the surface—when I wished for a best friend or someone to see through my fake smiles and bandages or my lies of where I got the bruises from.

Someone who would be there for me—to see me…

save me. “It’s a bond that doesn’t need any explanation.

And sometimes it’s romantic, but other times, it’s platonic.

Either way, it’s someone who is always with you, the connection never fading.

” Even after death , I want to add, but the sentiment remains unspoken.

Though I think Jack hears it loud and clear.

I look up to find him watching me, as if looking for an answer written on my face. Then, he looks down at the gummy bears sitting on the blanket. “Can you have more than one soulmate?”

“I like to think so.”

Jack nods, watching me closely, before he clears his throat with a slight shake of his head.

“Bennett and I were friends since we were kids,” he says.

“There’s not a single memory I have that he doesn’t play some part of, and we really did know each other inside and out.

We went to school together and eventually the fire academy after Bennett dropped out of law school, realizing he wanted to help people, keep them safe—not protect rich CEOs and their big corporations.

That’s how we ended up at the fire academy together. ”

“And then to the Northshore Fire Department?”

Jack raises a brow at me. “You studying up on me, pretty girl?”

“Oh, totally,” I joke. “It’s not like I just happened to notice the logo on the shirt of the firefighter who broke into my house.”

We both laugh, remembering how our paths couldn’t help from crossing all those weeks ago, how that moment had a way of bringing us here.

“Bennett would have gotten a kick out of that.” He pauses for a moment, like the words made him realize something. A small curve graces his lips, even though his eyes are clouded with the grief I know he always carries. “But I think you’re right. He is always with me.”

“He would’ve cheered you on when you decided to be my knight in shining armor, huh? Hearing the damsel in distress scream and rushing in to help?” I tease.

Jack eyes me up and down, amusement in his features, his voice taking on a more serious tone. “Something tells me, you’re not used to anyone coming to save you.”

“You think I need saving?” I challenge.

“I don’t think there’s anything you can’t handle,” he answers. “But I wouldn’t mind being your knight in shining armor once in a while.”

I roll my eyes, but the sentiment hits me right in the heart.

Something about the way he looks at me, how he thinks I’m strong when I’ve felt weak my whole life, reassures me that I wasn’t wrong about Jack—that I was right to trust myself with trusting him, that while I might not need him to rescue me, he sees me as something worth saving.

Something passes over his eyes, and his mouth opens like he’s about to say more, but then he blinks, and it’s gone. I’m about to ask him what he wanted to say, but Evee lets out an annoyed wail, and I know it’s her saying, I’m hungry , Mom.

“Me too, sweetheart,” Jack says to her, somehow understanding her as if she actually said the words, and our moment fades away, reality settling back in.

Jack grabs the picnic basket next to him. “I hope everything I packed is okay.”

I watch as he takes out a few containers, setting them down on the blanket—there’s one filled with fresh fruit cut into pieces the perfect size for Evee to eat, another with carrots and hummus, and the last one has peanut butter and jelly sandwiches, one cut into little bite-size squares.

He reaches back in the basket, pulling out two bottles of sparkling lemonade, a water bottle, and a sippy cup that looks like one I have for Evee but in a different color.

Looking at the spread, I’m left speechless.

Not only is everything he packed okay, but it’s all things I can eat and feed Evee.

He even got her a sippy cup.

“It’s perfect,” I say, and I hope he doesn’t think I’m crazy for how much emotion I’m showing over packed and prepared food.

How else can I say my standards for men are at the bottom of the ocean ?

Jack smiles, running a hand through his hair.

“I made sure everything was vegan. Oh, and—” He reaches back into the basket, pulling out one last container.

“I used the recipe you taught me, one whole bag of vegan chocolate chips and all,” he teases, uncovering the container of chocolate chip cookies.

I can’t help but notice the skin peeking out from the collar of his T-shirt reddening, his features softening with a shyness I’m not used to seeing on him.

“Thank you,” I say, proud of myself for not even thinking about saying how he didn’t have to go through all this trouble—knowing that he did it because he wanted to.

And that makes it all the more meaningful.

“This is a first for me, so I hope I’m doing an okay job,” he admits, and I never—not in a million years—thought I would use the word “cute” to describe Jack Hasting.

“Don’t worry,” I say. “It’s a first for me too.”

“Your first picnic date?”

“My first date,” I clarify, and the admission makes my cheeks redden. The urge to shrink into myself is strong, but I keep my head up, refusing to give in to the temptation to shy away from his attention on me.

Jack nods, his brows furrowed before he asks, “You’ve never been on a date?”

“Not a real one.” The words slip out, and I don’t realize how pathetic it sounds until my brain registers what I just said. “I mean, it’s been a while,” I add, but it’s not exactly the truth.

Sure, at first, Trevor took me to nice dinners or to the movies but he was putting on a show. He was biding his time, sinking his hooks into me and gaining my trust. He told me everything I wanted to hear, listened intently to when I talked, and made me feel seen for the first time in my life.

Little did I know, the dates were a performance, one to bring my walls down and give me that dangerous sliver of hope that my life was finally turning around.

That the years of abuse at the hands of my father, the abandonment of my mother, the way I learned to trust no one but myself, were worth it because I finally found someone who cared about me.

“You’ve never been on a real date,” Jack repeats, and it almost sounds like a question.

I nod, shifting in my seat on the grass, my fingers twisting in the fabric of my dress.

Jack looks down at Evee as she reaches toward the edge of the blanket to pull at the grass, his hand and the flower he gave her now forgotten.

He seems to be contemplating whatever he wants to say, and I wrack my brain with a way to change the subject, coming up empty aside from everything I don’t want to talk about—everything that will ruin this date, this whole entire day .

Jack’s eyes stay on Evee as he asks, “Her dad never took you on dates?” His voice is hard, like it took effort to push the words out of his mouth, and I fight the urge to apologize for upsetting him, even though I don’t know why he would be so mad about something like that.

I give myself a moment to ponder his question because it does give me room to figure out how much I want Jack to know about Trevor, especially since he seems to want to know the answer but is already anticipating one he isn’t going to like.

“No.” I decide to go with the simple answer, seeing where it will take us.

I reach for Evee’s diaper bag, pulling out her new favorite toy—the fire truck from Jack—and a few of the sensory books I brought for her, and some bubbles.

Jack leans on his back, reaching for Evee and seamlessly grabbing her, picking her up and holding her up above him, making her giggle.

He looks up at her, a grin on his face as he moves her through the air before setting her down by the toys I laid out on the picnic blanket.

“What about before him?” he asks as he settles back on his elbow, his eyes moving to me.

The way he gazes up at me is tender, that contrast of his strong features yet soft eyes.

Some of the anxiety swirling in my stomach settles, like the green in his eyes is a hidden forest I’ve only dreamed of, warm and welcoming, as if they had been waiting just for me to find them—get lost in them.

I uncap the bottle of bubbles, slowly blowing a few, making Evee look up and giggle. After a moment, opening a door I always thought would be better off closed, I answer, “Trevor was my first and only relationship.”

Mariah has explained in our therapy sessions how it’s important to open up about past domestic abuse, especially if it affects my boundaries, triggers, or trust and how sharing that part of my past can help build understanding and emotional safety in the relationship.

I made a promise to myself—and Evee—that I would never bring anyone into our lives that would hurt her, and Jack has never done anything to make me believe that he would ever jeopardize our safety.

But this is a step I’ve never taken with anyone other than Ava.

I blow a few more bubbles before twisting the cap back on, watching them float away—reminding me of the life I used to picture for myself, and how it floated away from me, slowly at first, before disappearing all together.

“Why did you leave him?” Jack asks, and I can’t fight the intake of breath, like just the thought of that night can send me back to it, trapping me in the place where I risked everything to escape.

I close my eyes, slowly letting out an exhale, reminding myself that I’m not held captive there anymore.

While Trevor never told me I couldn’t leave, I was too isolated to feel I had anywhere to go. I was convinced that no one would understand or believe me, not after years of us together and Trevor never taking off his mask until we were home, alone, behind our locked doors.

He didn’t tie me up or lock me in a bedroom, but it truly was no different. I didn’t feel like there was a way out, and every part of me was convinced that it was what I deserved—it was what my life was meant to be like.

It wasn’t until he almost killed me while I was on the verge of giving birth to our daughter that I finally found the courage to leave.

I look at Evee—my precious, little girl doesn’t even realize how much strength she gave me. How I wouldn’t be here if it wasn’t for her. “Because of her.”