Nine months later...

Ella

My heels click against the pavement as I scurry up Brenna and Shea's driveway. After today's appearance in court for Mikael's trial, I'm running late for Haelynn's first birthday party. And I'm in good spirits. Although Mikael never physically or sexually assaulted me, it feels good to voice the emotional manipulation and offer my support to other women that are victims of his actions. The trial seems to be going in our favour, but I'm still wary. The patriarchy still has deep roots in society.

All I can do is hope that my voice has helped steer the outcome in the right direction.

On the door, there's a sign that says to enter without knocking. It's a cute sign, decorated with little farm animals, but it's very simple. I love that Brenna and Shea aren't throwing those overrated birthday parties where people get a hundred-dollar cake made and have balloon arches. Kids deserve the world, yes, but that doesn't come from the aesthetics of their birthday parties.

When I step into the open-concept kitchen, I see a few other wives of Shea and Kaleb's teammates are here with their kids. The living room is loud with screaming and laughing children, ranging from babies to toddlers to five-year-olds. Although the noise level represents a teenage rager, the party's small.

No one's noticed me yet, so I take my time and set the present down on the island. There aren't too many presents, which means some people took Brenna and Shea's presents-aren't-required suggestion seriously. After that, I shrug off my suit jacket and hang it on the back of a chair. Then I adjust the collar of my silk cream-coloured camisole. My hands are still a little shaky from the trial, but I feel much calmer than I did on the drive over. Which is a good thing because the last thing I want to do is subtract from the happy vibes of this party. Besides, Brenna and I will have a good chat about it later, after the party. Maybe share a glass of wine or two—if Kaleb's not around.

No one knows if he's showing up to the party or not. Although he's been present throughout the past nine months, working hard to keep his sobriety intact, he avoids large gatherings. It gives him time to decompress after long road trips or busy nights with the media. He's also just not as social as he used to be. Which is understandable. When you endure trauma and then battle your way through the healing process, it's impossible to be your old self.

This time around, though, everyone's unsure because after the team lost in the second round of the playoffs, he went on a vacation. No one's seen him for a couple of weeks now. Shea's the only person who knows where he went, and no matter how hard we try to bribe him, he won't tell. He did, however, reassure us that Kaleb is okay. This mysterious disappearance has nothing to do with a relapse.

After a moment of surveying the living room, I spot Brenna in the corner breastfeeding Haelynn. Her breast is right out in the open while she talks Isaac. I smile. Leave it to Brenna to break the social norms. Not that she should have to break them. I see nothing wrong with breastfeeding in public. Babies need their nutrients and men need to touch some grass and women need to support other women.

I grab a glass of water before heading over to Brenna. When she sees me, she smiles and waves. "Ella! You made it!"

Waving back, I weave through the remaining chairs and sit in the empty one next to her. "The trial ended sooner than I thought. Hey, Isaac."

Isaac welcomes me with a warm smile. Although the romance department didn't work for us, we've become good friends. All throughout the season, I've attended different functions with him, gone out for rounds of mini golf, and continued to train him. During the summer, he also picked up on a job at the gym, running the front desk while I was still picking up the pieces of my life. He's a great friend. Somewhere, in another life, I would've fallen for him. But I'm grateful for this friendship we've created.

Brenna leans over and kisses me on the cheek when I sit down. "How was it?"

I lift one shoulder. "I'm no lawyer, but I have a good feeling about this trial. He doesn't have a leg to stand on. But..." I follow it with a hefty sigh. "The patriarchy. So who knows?"

"Fuck the patriarchy," Isaac says. "And that man. Y'know, Shea, KJ, and I could still kill him. We've all watched You. There's nothing wrong with channeling your inner Joe when someone's a rapist and deserves it."

Hearing Isaac speak so darkly makes me laugh. The man can't even kill a spider. So his words are an empty threat.

I give his forearm a squeeze. "As tempting as that sounds, I can't have one of my best friends ending up in prison. Promise me there'll be no felonies."

The corner of his mouth quirks up. "Fine.

Brenna's smile is bittersweet, but her laughter is genuine. "At least we're fighting. That's all we can do. Even if we're tired of it."

Nodding, I take a sip of my water. Then I say, "I can't believe she's a year old already."

Brenna's smile becomes a little more joyous than bitter. "Same. She's gotten so big. We're weaning her off of breastfeeding, but she's been a little grumpy today. Misses her daddy." She traces the side of Haelynn's face with her pointer finger. "The skin-to-skin contact helps. Babies are so dependent on touch for the first year. I think being close helps calm her down."

"Yeah," I reply, "I noticed that. His vehicle wasn't outside. Where's Shea?"

Brenna shrugs. "He wouldn't tell me. Probably has something to do with KJ, though. I don't know why they're being so secretive." She eyes Isaac. "Do you know anything?"

Isaac's eyes widen. "No."

His response is too quick.

"Isaac Addison," I say, faking a posh British accent. "Do you know something we don't?"

He looks down at his drink, his cheeks flushing a deep pink. "Honestly... Yeah, I know what's up. But I was sworn to secrecy. Also, it's impolite to mock my accent, Ella. How would you feel if I tried to do an American accent?"

I raise one finger. "First, I'm Canadian. There's a big difference. Second, how would you feel if I were keeping major secrets from you?"

Isaac grins. "Surprised. Which is what you and Brenna are supposed to be when they arrive."

Brenna and I exchange a glance. "Who's they?"

His face falls. "Fuck." He looks at the baby. "Shit—I mean crap, sorry. I shouldn't swear around the baby."

I cock an eyebrow. "Have you met her parents? Haelynn's gonna know every swear in the book before she's five."

"And she'll know how to pronounce them," Brenna jokes.

"Isn't that bad parenting?" Isaac teases.

"Let's be honest," Brenna says. "KJ, Hunter, and Jayden—and you, Isaac—will be the ones teaching her the swear words. Shea's been all over me about my language around her. It's quite comical. He's turned into such a softie. I love it."

Isaac whistles a suspicious tune and glances at the ceiling. "Don't know what you're talking about, Brenna."

"They'll teach her bad words," I nod, "but they also won't let a man get within three feet of her."

Brenna rolls her eyes. "I'll be regulating that. I understand the whole protective father thing, but she needs her freedom, too. Shea knows I'll rip him apart if he pulls that alpha shit if she brings someone home."

"And that," Isaac concludes, "is why you don't fuck with Brenna Smith."

In the back of my mind, I hear Kaleb correcting him. Brenna Harrison. He still calls her that to this day. At first, it was to piss her off. Now, it's a running joke between the two of them.

I suppress a sigh. God, I miss having his quirky inputs and goofy behaviour. There's a good chance he could show up tonight, and I hope he does. Since I picked him up in August, I've been working on myself. I know my independence and I know where I stand in this life. And I know we promised each other a year, but I'm getting antsy.

This has nothing to do with time or the future. It is the now. I'm not some damsel in distress that needs a man. I'm a strong, independent woman who wants a man. A very specific man. And that doesn't make me weak. That doesn't subject me to the patriarchy. What it does is let me embrace my emotions and the decisions I've made.

I know what I want.

Now it's a matter of if there's reciprocation.

* * *

Isaac sticks around to help with the clean-up. Actually, he does most of it. And while it's in his nature to take over the clean-up process at every get together, I think part of the reason is so he doesn't slip and tell Brenna and me something about where the hell Shea is. Or what the plan is.

Which is why Brenna and I are sitting in the living room. There's a bottle of wine on the coffee table, along with two glasses and some leftover cupcakes. Haelynn is on the floor, laying on her mat and reaching for every toy she can.

Reaching out, I grab a cupcake and peel away the liner. When I bite into it, I taste a good amount of vanilla buttercream (which is a little gritty) and raspberry filling. The tartness of the raspberries counteracts the sweetness of the buttercream, and the cake is moist. After I've swallowed, I ask, "Did you make these?"

Smiling, Brenna shakes her head. "Shea made them last night. He's always been an excellent cook-slash-baker, but the decorations could use a little work." Her gaze is sympathetic when she looks at them. "They're supposed to be pigs."

I almost choke on my cupcake. After coughing twice, I press my hand to my mouth and say, "I thought they were pink bees!"

Brenna laughs. "Nope. They're supposed to be pigs. Haelynn's obsessed with farm animals and she thinks pigs are the cutest. Good thing her perception abilities aren't developed yet. Otherwise, these might cause nightmares."

I pop the last piece of the cupcake into my mouth, then reach for the bottle of wine. Brenna takes that as an opening to ask about the trial. "How do you think the trial will turn out?"

She's more nervous about it than I am because of her connections to it. For the past couple of months, she's been there for every court date, spoken several times, and even had interviews on the news done. She's been through a lot, but I'm proud of her for standing her ground. It's not an effortless task for women.

"I don't know. Like I said earlier, it's hard to say. But I'm hoping for a win." I remove the lid and pour the first glass of wine.

I fill it up a quarter of the way. After watching Kaleb suffer from alcoholism, I've cut back on my drinking. Not to say I did a lot before. I did my drinking in moderation, but the intensity levels were too high. I still go out with my friends and drink margaritas every so often. What I don't do is drink enough to give myself a hangover. I'll cut myself off with one or two drinks.

Setting the bottle down, I reach for the other wine glass.

Brenna rests her hand atop mine. "Ella, I'm not drinking."

It takes a moment for my brain to process her words. And just as I'm about to freak out about her being pregnant again, his voice cuts me off.

"You've got to be fucking kidding me."

Brenna and I look to the kitchen.

Jayden and Kaleb enter the room. Kaleb's carrying a pink box. Jayden's got a six-pack of non-alcoholic beer in his hand. Shea follows close behind, jiggling his keys in his hand.

But I don't care about Jayden or Shea or whatever the hell they're all holding. All I can focus on is Kaleb. His hair has grown out, the tips brushing his broad shoulders. The amount of facial hair is significant. It's much more than long stubble, but not quite a beard. It makes him look rugged—especially with the sleeves of his weathered flannel rolled up past his elbows. Add in the tattoo... and oh god. He's devastatingly handsome.

Kaleb, who's holding a large present in his hands, stops and looks at Shea. "Man, you didn't tell me your dick was working again."

Shea gives him a look. "My dick is indestructible."

Silence passes through the house, and each of us is exchanging glances for a few seconds before my neutral expression crumbles. Something between a snort and a laugh escapes my mouth, and then I'm keeling over with laughter. The serious note in Shea's voice has done something to my mental state. And so has seeing Kaleb. But the way Shea just expressed that sentence... Oh my god. His voice is void of any emotion, like it's the most known fact on the planet. And he's staring at Kaleb like he's incompetent.

Brenna soon joins in on the laughter. So do Isaac and Jayden. But Shea and Kaleb are stuck in a stand-off.

"So you're confirming it?" Kaleb asks. His lips are pulled to one side, and I can see the mischievous glimmer in his eyes. "Brenna's pregnant again?"

"Jones," Shea sighs. "That's not what I said. You're interpreting the conversation wrong. Doesn't surprise me, though. You're pretty fucking dense."

When I look at Brenna, she winks.

Yeah, she's pregnant again.

Still glaring at each other, Shea and Kaleb join us in the living room. Kaleb sits next to me, box in hand, and his thigh pressing against mine. The contact makes my breath hitch. He's wearing cut off jean shorts that stop mid-thigh. Through my thin tights, I can feel the warmth of his skin.

This reaction is nothing new. Whenever Kaleb's around, my heart and body revert to the conditions of my teenage self: clammy palms, erratic heart rate, strange breathing patterns, the urge to stare at him for endless minutes.

"You didn't have to buy her a present," Brenna frowns.

"I didn't," Kaleb replies. He sets the box on the coffee table and opens it. When he removes the top, the sides fall down, revealing a cake that's shaped at the number one and decorated with all kinds of farm animals made of fondant. "I bought her a real cake. She deserves better than the cupcakes Shea made."

"Hey," Shea argues. He sits beside Brenna. "The cupcakes I made are pretty good."

"Dude," Kaleb says. "You would be on an episode of Nailed It! they look so bad." He picks one up and frowns at it. "What are these supposed to be? Naked mole rats?"

Shea grabs the cupcake from Kaleb and sets it down on the plate. "Fuck off, Jones. It's the thought that counts." With a hefty sigh, he leans against the couch and crosses his arms. He stares at the cupcakes. Grumpy vibes radiate off of him, but I know he's faking it. Every so often, the corner of his mouth will twitch. "They're supposed to be pigs."

"If it helps," I add, "I thought they were pink bees."

"How in the fucking hell does that help me, Ella?"

I shrug. "They were delicious?" I point to the empty wrapper. "I devoured one of them. Even asked Brenna where she got it."

Shea rubs his jaw. "Fine. You're forgiven. But it won't be so easy next time."

Jayden, who's taken a seat on the recliner, scoffs. "Shea, you are the easiest person to please on this damn planet. You act all high and mighty, but you're just a softie."

"Gonna have to agree on that," Isaac says. "However, I would not fuck with you on the ice." He fakes a shudder. "I would like my ribs to stay intact."

Shea points at Isaac, but his gaze is on Kaleb. "He knows what he's talking about. Too bad you don't have a brain, Jones."

Kaleb snorts. "I'm way fucking smarter than you, Smith."

Hearing their banter again makes me emotional. They've been building it back up over the past nine months, but tonight it feels like it did before. Typical Shea and Kaleb banter. As I listen to their conversation, my gaze falls on my glass of wine. A wave of shame crushes me. Picking up my glass of wine, I head to the kitchen with every intention of dumping it out.

But before I can do so, a hand is gripping my wrist.

I look up, meeting Kaleb's brown eyes.

He flashes me a half-smile. "You don't have to dump your wine out, Ella." With his free hand, he holds up a can of the non-alcoholic beer. "I've got my drink. You can have yours."

A deep breath is what I expel. "I'd rather not drink around you. Out of respect."

Kaleb releases my hand, his hand flexing as he lets it fall to his side. His gaze flicks to the glass. "I'd rather you not waste your wine because of me, but if that makes you comfortable, then that's okay. It's your decision."

The decision is simple to make. He has a history with alcohol. As a friend, it's my job to respect him and reduce any potential temptations. Keeping my gaze locked with his, I dump out the wine. Then I rinse out the glass and set it down beside the sink.

When I turn around, I lean against the counter and cross my arms. "You came. Was that the surprise Brenna and I were trying to coax out of Isaac?"

"Nah," Kaleb laughs. "The cake was. Shea didn't even know about it. I lied to him and made him think me and Jayden coming was the surprise. He was a little upset when he saw the receipt in my pocket."

I cock an eyebrow. "What made him want to see a receipt?"

"There was a little goading," he admits.

"Figures," I smile. "There's always something going on between you two. Sometimes I admire the fact that neither of you has committed a felony."

Kaleb smiles, but it fades. He runs a hand through his hair and glances over his shoulder. "Can we talk for a minute?" He jerks his thumb over his shoulder. "In private?"

My mouth is dry. I clear my throat and nod. "Yeah. Sure."

He sets his drink down on the counter and heads down the hallway, leaving our friends chatting. My tights-covered feet slide against the hardwood, and I spend a moment wishing I hadn't removed my shoes. Kaleb walks past the bathroom, the office, and a few other doors before taking a left and stepping into the spare bedroom.

Although Brenna and Shea have changed the colour scheme of the bedroom, memories of the day I left Kaleb behind rise to the surface. I don't feel any regret, but I remember the sadness I felt. That day, I wished I could've done more to help him. Now, I realize that wasn't my job. Kaleb needed to realize himself.

When I step in, he closes the door behind us. I turn around to face him, watching as he scratches at his facial hair. Judging by his expression, I can tell he's having a difficult time figuring out what to say. Which is why I break the silence.

"Soooo..." I drawl. "What were you doing the past couple of weeks? People kept it on the down-low. Even Shea wouldn't budge."

"Hiking," Kaleb replies. "Jayden invited me along. He had a job to do—surveying an area or studying rocks or something like that—and up in the Kootenays. Honestly, he was part of the surprise, too. But I'm giving more credit to the cake because it pissed Shea off."

"Kaleb, Jayden's a cartographer. He was re-mapping the park boundaries for one of the parks. He mentioned that on the group chat, but I didn't think to put two and two together. Now that I think about it, it makes sense."

"Fine," he sighs. "I was interested in the rocks. Did you know most of these mountains in BC are from glaciation and volcanic activity? It was cool to see."

He trails off, and I bite my tongue. Asking to talk to me in private isn't for the sake of rocks and jobs. Instead of striking up a conversation with another topic that will fizzle out, I give him time. He can take all the time he needs. I'll stand here for hours if that's what it takes.

He clears his throat. "The real reason I swore them to secrecy was because I told them I wanted to ask you out."

My lips part.

"Ella, do you want to go out sometime? For dinner or a hike?" He gives a subtle shrug. "Anything. Whatever you want to do."

The words tumble out before he can lose the courage to speak them. There's a light flush of pink across his cheeks. I bite back a smile. His nervousness reminds me of the teenage boy I remember.

"It hasn't been a year," I breathe.

Kaleb shakes his head. "Fuck time. Dealing with time is overrated. So fuck it. I'm tired of waiting. I'll miss Mel every day for the rest of my life, but I made a promise to her. Healing hasn't been easy, and it's something that will continue forever, but I'm ready now. Ready to live my life in a way that honours her, but makes me happy." His lips pull to one side. "And you're the common denominator. You make me happy, Ella. And if you're willing to give me another chance, I want to take you out for dinner or a hike. Something. I just want to spend time with you."

My breath hitches. "I see you've been doing your homework."

His gaze sweeps over my lips. "Yeah, I have. And I know what I want right now if you'll give it to me."

All I can do is nod.

My legs hit the foot of the bed, and then Kaleb's lips are on mine.

His kiss is sweet relief.

My eyes flutter shut and I grip the collar of his shirt and angle my mouth, deepening the kiss. When his tongue strokes my bottom lip, asking for permission, I let my lips part. The first stroke of his tongue makes my knees weak. His lips are soft and his mouth tastes like something sweet. Sweet but fresh. Like the sourness of raspberries cutting through decadent chocolate.

I can't get enough of him. I want more.

With another tug on his shirt, we fall onto the bed. It catches him off-guard, so his body weight is on top of me, pinning me to the mattress while his lips continue to move against mine. The tickle of his facial hair makes little sparks dance across my skin. Kaleb's never had so much facial hair, but I like it. I wonder what it would feel like between my legs, while he drives me over the cliff of an orgasm with his tongue.

God, Taylor, you've been reading too many romance novels. 

My hands slide up his shoulders, tangling in his messy hair.

I never want this kiss to end.

I want this moment to last forever.

And, despite the overwhelming happiness, a tear slips down my cheek.

"Ellie," he whispers against my lips. "Open your eyes."

When I do, I meet two dark pools of brown. They're heady with passion, and I have to take a deep breath to centre myself. Fucking around in the spare bedroom isn't very ethical. And if Kaleb and I ever come to that point, I want it to be special. Not with rose petals or music, but something that's meant only for the two of us.

I can imagine Shea walking in and goading Kaleb. As funny as it sounds, there's still a level of mortification to deal with.

His thumb chases the teardrop away. "I love you."

Millions of memories flash through the forefront of my mind. From the good to the bad to the ugly, Kaleb and I have always been in this together. Had the story been different, if Melody was still alive, the same would be true. Except we'd be good friends.

But no matter what, Kaleb and I are intertwined.

I drag both of my thumbs along his cheekbones. "I love you, too."

His smile is brighter than the sun. And when his lips return to mine, I can feel the promise of a future in his kiss.

We sacrificed so much. Went through so much. Let go of things we never thought we'd have to let go of. Fought to heal. Continue to wake up every morning and choose happiness.

And I think now's the time to be rewarded for our strength.

Rewarded with the opportunity of a second chance.

Because Melody was right.

Passion is the light that guides us.

And I intend to let it burn like hell.