Page 56 of Once Upon A Second Chance

I don’t hesitate.

“If he shows up again, you’ll file a police report. No questions. No hesitation.”

She blinks. “I don’t know—”

“I do.” My voice hardens. “Because you deserve to feel safe in your own home. At work. Anywhere. And if he even thinks about coming near youagain, we’ll bury him in legal consequences so deep, he’ll be counting court dates instead of spark plugs.”

That gets the smallest smile out of her. Barely there.

But it’s something.

“You really mean that?” she whispers.

I don’t let go of her hand.

“Yeah, Penny. I do.”

She leans forward until her forehead rests lightly against mine. “You’re not who you used to be.”

“Neither are you.”

The silence stretches again. But this time, it’s not sharp. Not painful.

Just... quiet. Still.

Safe.

And in that quiet, I make myself a promise.

Travis Dawson will never get within ten feet of her again.

Not while I’m breathing.

I’m halfway through a microwaved chicken pot pie and a medical journal article when the knock comes at the motel room door.

Three sharp raps—too confident to be the clerk, too casual to be a cop.

I know who it is before I even open it.

Andrew Keller.

He stands on the threshold looking like he stepped out of a GQ shoot and straight into hell: collared shirt crisp, expensive watch glinting under the porch light, hair styled within an inch of its life.

“Nice place,” he says, eyes flicking over the dated carpet and fading wallpaper like he’s cataloging the damage.

“Not in the mood for company,” I say, already closing the door.

His hand hits the frame. “Just five minutes. No Rebecca.Just me.”

I let it hang there for a beat, then open the door fully and step aside.

He enters like he owns the place—eyes sweeping the room, nose wrinkling at the lingering scent of takeout and hospital soap.

“I came to talk,” he says.

“I gathered.”

He stays standing while I sink back into the armchair, fork abandoned on the tray table.