Chapter 4

Seven Years Later

Emery's POV

"Mom, I can't find my shoe!"

"Which one?" I call from the kitchen, stuffing the last bite of toast into my mouth while searching my bag for my ID badge.

"The blue one!"

I sigh and walk into the living room.

Muna stands in the middle of a mess of shoes, one sneaker already on his foot and the other nowhere in sight.

"It's under the couch," I say.

He drops to his knees and reaches underneath. A second later, he pulls out the missing shoe and grins.

"Found it!"

"You're a genius."

I crouch down to tie his laces. When he looks up at me, smiling wide, I pause.

There it is again.

That look in his eyes.

Sharp. Familiar.

He is only six, but sometimes I see pieces of a man in him that I've spent seven years trying not to think about.

I quickly look away.

"Come on. We're going to be late."

Seven years ago, I was nineteen, standing in my parents' living room with a positive pregnancy test clenched in my hand.

By the end of that day, I was thrown out.

Finn had packed his things and left with me without asking a single question.

"You're not doing this alone."

He has kept that promise ever since.

The first year nearly broke us. We slept in his car for eleven days before we could afford a tiny room above a laundromat. When Muna was born, I went back to work five days later because we needed the money.

There were nights when I came home too exhausted to feel my feet. There were weeks when I had to choose between groceries and bills.

I never told Muna any of that.

He only knew that Mom always came home.

Things finally changed last year when Finn's career took off. He bought this house and refused to let me keep sacrificing everything for survival.

"You have a mind for design," he'd told me. "Finish your degree."

So I did.

For the first time, I'm building a life instead of simply trying to get through the next day.

"Mommy, are you gonna be late?"

Muna's voice pulls me back.

"A little." I stand and grab my bag. "Uncle Finn is picking you up after school, remember?"

"I know. He said we're getting ice cream."

"Did he?"

"He pinky promised."

I laugh and kiss his forehead.

The front door opens.

Finn walks in with his gym bag over one shoulder, already dressed for training.

"Morning."

"Morning. No match today?"

"Just training. I'm free afterward."

He ruffles Muna's hair.

"Which means someone is getting picked up from school personally."

"Yay!"

Muna throws his arms into the air.

I smile, watching them.

Then Finn glances at his phone.

"Oh, by the way. Guess who called me last night?"

"Who?"

"Alaric."

My fingers stop around the strap of my bag.

For one second, I can't breathe.

"Alaric?" I repeat.

"Yeah."

Finn looks amused by my reaction, but he doesn't seem to notice what is happening behind my face.

"I haven't heard from him in seven years. He called out of nowhere. He's coming back to Miami for a project."

Seven years.

The number seem to settle heavily between us.

"He asked if he could crash here while he's staying here." Finn continues, shrugging like it is the most normal thing in the world, because to him, it is. "We've been friends since we were kids, so obviously I said yes."

I force myself to smile.

"Of course."

Finn frowns slightly. "You're okay with that?"

"Why wouldn't I be?"

Because I've spent seven years learning how to live without him.

Because I've built a life he knows nothing about.

Because his return can tear open everything I've worked so hard to bury.

Instead, I shrug.

"He's your best friend. It would be rude to say no."

Finn smiles, relieved.

"He'll probably be here in a few days."

A few days.

I nod and pick up my keys.

"I have to go."

I kiss Muna's forehead.

"Be good for Uncle Finn."

"No promises," Finn calls from the kitchen.

Muna giggles.

I smile until I reach the front door.

The moment it closes behind me, the smile disappears.

At the design studio, I try to focus on the sketches in front of me.

I can't.

Alaric is coming back.

I've spent seven years making sure his name never becomes part of my life again. I've worked, studied, raised Muna and built something stable out of the mess he left behind.

I don't need him.

I don't want anything from him.

So why is my heart beating like I'm nineteen again?

My phone rings around noon.

I glance at the screen and answer without thinking.

"Hello?"

Silence.

Then a familiar voice comes through the line.

Deep.

Calm.

Impossible to forget.

"Hey, little bun."

My entire body goes still.

I know that voice.

I've spent seven years trying to forget it.

Alaric.