Here are a few more chapters in the struggle of my beloved Ilian Jansen.
I would appreciate any feedback.
Thank you very much.
Penelope didn’t plan on seeing Jack that Saturday.
She was already cranky about losing the parking battle to the stroller industrial complex, and the day had started with a text from her mom that just said:
“Do you remember that girl from swim team who broke her arm? The one you liked. She’s engaged now. To a lesbian!”
Which somehow felt equal parts supportive and threatening.
Chapter 3 - Video Games
Jack hated company happy hours on principle.
They were loud, overpriced, and full of people performing friendship like it was part of their job description. Everyone clustered in tight little circles, shouting over music that wasn’t good enough to justify the volume. Someone had already taken their badge off and clipped it to their waistband like it was a personality.
He’d said yes this time only because Penelope asked with a voice that dared him not to.
“You coming tonight?” she’d asked, leaning on the side of his desk, breath smelling faintly like those tiny oranges she hoarded. “Or are you gonna fake a calendar invite again?”
He scoffed. “That was one time.”
She raised an eyebrow. “You color-coded it.”
“It was a deeply important fake meeting.”
She’d just smiled, slow and smug. “So… I’ll see you there?”
The hoodie was technically to blame.
So was the office AC being overaggressive and Penelope’s brilliant decision to wear a sleeveless top. She just hadn’t counted on the meeting room being cold enough to store beef.
By the forty-minute mark of a two-hour strategy session, her teeth were on the verge of chattering. She tried all her usual coping mechanisms: tucking her hands between her knees, wrapping her arms around herself, pretending she wasn’t slowly freezing to death while some guy from finance said “runway” for the sixth time.
Jack caught her visibly shivering.
He didn’t make a thing of it. No grand announcement, no, “wow, someone’s cold.” He just glanced over once, took in her goosebumped shoulders, then peeled off his hoodie in one smooth motion and tossed it into her lap.
She blinked down at it.
Jack found out from Marcie.
Not on purpose–she just intercepted him at the espresso machine like it was a gossip toll booth.
“Just so you know,” she’d said, in that casually-concerned tone people use when they’re absolutely being nosy, “Brandon’s been… circling Penelope.”
Jack had done a neutral face. A professional face. A face that said wow, interesting intel, thank you, valued colleague, while his brain quietly set Brandon on fire.
“Circling,” he’d repeated mildly, watching the espresso drip. “Like a hawk? Or like… a Roomba?”
Jack knew her tells.
The real ones–not the big, performative, table-banging Penelope-isms she gave to the world. He knew the quiet things.
The way she pulled her sleeves over her hands when she was overthinking. The way her laugh got a fraction too sharp when she was dodging something real. The way she tapped her fingers against the side of her water bottle when she wanted to say something but wouldn’t.
Today, she was doing all three.
And trying to pretend she wasn’t.
They didn’t talk about that night.
Not the rooftop.
Not the silence after.
Not the almost.
Instead, they did what they always did.
They hung out.
They made each other laugh.
They sat close.
But the comfort now came laced with tension–like wearing someone else’s jacket, familiar but tight in the sleeves.
It was a Thursday when it finally caught up to them.
Long meetings. Rainy morning. Someone brought donuts. Penelope took two and didn’t eat either.
Jack rolled up beside her desk just after lunch.
“Wanna hit the bookstore after work?” he asked casually. “I need to buy a gift. And someone to shame me into not buying a Star Wars mug.”
Penelope looked up. Smiled too quickly. “Yeah. Sure.”
He watched her for a beat. “You okay?”
“I’m fine.”
She always said that now.
He didn’t push.
Just waited outside when she clocked out, hoodie pulled over his head, rain speckling his wheels. When she saw him waiting, she felt something in her chest tug.
I feel honored to be able to share my beloved Ilian Jansen with you.
I started this book in September and it has been a great pleasure to tell this story.
Thank you for the feedback. Please let me know if you find any errors or inconsistencies. Advice is welcome.
Thank you for reading..
Penelope woke up tangled in a shirt that didn’t belong to her and a body she suddenly had full access to.
For a second she didn’t know where she was. There was just warmth, and cotton that smelled like detergent and boy, and the heavy weight of sleep pinning her down.
Then her brain caught up.
Jack’s bed.
Jack’s shirt.
Jack’s everything.
Oh.
Oh, last night.
Her eyes snapped open.
They don’t make it two floors.
The elevator doors slide shut and she’s already in his space–one hand on the rail, the other curling in the neck of his shirt, backing him into the corner. His chair bumps softly against the wall and then her mouth is on his, hot and not sorry about it at all.
He makes a low, wrecked sound that lands straight in her spine.
His hand finds her hip, fingers digging in like he’s trying to anchor himself while the floor numbers climb. She kisses him harder, thumb dragging along his jaw, then pulls his bottom lip between her teeth just to feel him shudder.
“Pen,” he manages, but it’s not a protest. It’s a curse, a problem, the way he says her name when he’s already gone.
The little catch of his breath. The way his fingers tighten. Every reaction is a hit and she wants more of them.
The elevator hums. The world shrinks to the thud of her heartbeat, the warm press of his chest against her, the faint squeak of his wheel as she crowds closer.
The doors ding open and she doesn’t even look. She pulls back just enough to breathe, both of them panting.
“Apartment,” she says, voice rough.
He licks his lips, eyes dark and dazed. “Right. Okay.”
Hello everyone,
I've been visiting this blog for many years but this is the first time I've written. I have one book already completed and I'm writing the second volume. It's a large book and I intend to post a few chapters here every Tuesday. Please let me know if there are any errors. Thank you very much.
Not really, but that would be amazing, wouldn't it?
Hi everyone, Lovis again!
Lately I’ve been jumping back and forth between several story projects. It’s fun… but also a terrible strategy if I ever want to finish even one of them. Since I simply can’t decide which one to focus on, I figured I’d let you choose for me. Hah, problem solved, right?
Below are first chapters to three brand-new stories, each featuring a guy with cerebral palsy in a different setting. Please use the poll at the end to vote for the one you’d like to see developed into a full story.*
*Author is making no promises whatsoever...
Story 1: Assisting David
Laura works as a personal assistant for David. One day he trusts her enough to admit that he’s never had an orgasm in his life. Laura—who’s very much in tune with bodily pleasures herself—is determined to change that. But it turns out to be far more complicated than she expected, blurring first professional, then emotional lines.
Story 2: Third Wheel
Ethan has a crush on his flatmate Jared… until he discovers Jared is actually in a relationship with his newly returned boyfriend, Tyler. Ethan can't decide which is worse: finding out that Tyler is indeed ridiculously attractive, or listening to the two of them having very enthusiastic sex on the other side of the wall each night.
Story 3: Benjamin, the Dragon, and I
Lea finds herself unexpectedly drawn to Benjamin, her professor’s son. He’s unlike any other boy she’s ever dated—down to his power wheelchair and the fact that he needs help with the simplest tasks. To make things even more complicated, Lea is almost convinced that his assistant, Vivienne, breathes fire.
So yes… you can probably see why choosing just one is impossible for me.
Thanks for helping me out! 💛
Lovis
Edit:
The poll is now closed. Thanks for voting, everyone! I’m so glad you’re enjoying the stories, and you’ve made the decision clear: Story 3 wins with 39 votes! Yay—confetti, fireworks, Lea possibly getting drunk and falling into Benjamin’s lap… oh wait, too early!
Honorable mentions go to Story 1 with 22 votes and Story 2 with 7 votes. Oodles of love for these stories and for everyone supporting them!
I’m really looking forward to writing Benjamin and Lea’s story, and I hope to hear from you sometime soon(-ish). Have a wonderful holiday and a happy New Year, everyone!
Hey everyone!
This short story is the first chapter of a novel I started writing ages ago. Then real-world events caught up with my story and I never had the heart to continue. Who knows, one day I might be able to go back to it—I sincerely hope that will be the case. For now, I've polished up this first chapter to share as a standalone piece. I know it won't cure our collective hunger for stories, but maybe it'll stave off the craving for a while?
Oh, and that may be of potential interest for some: The story features a quadriplegic character! It’s a first for me. So... tell me what you think of The Messenger!
Wishing you all a great week!
Lovis
Hey everyone
Sorry for the insanely long wait and thank you for your patience and all the comments!
Here it is — Chapter 19 of TOWGA.
And I apologize in advance: The next one will take me a while again — lots going on right now.
Happy Friday and have a great weekend!
xoxo, Merigold
The One Who Got Away — Table of Contents
Hey everyone
I made it — here is Chapter 18 of TOWGA.
Heads up: This one is... explicit!
Happy friday!
xoxo, Merigold
The One Who Got Away — Table of Contents
This story was posted last month on my Patreon, but wanted to share here too. It was based on the prompt: "If you tell anyone I cried during that movie, I'll block you." Hope you all like it! 🙂
Hi everybody
I'm back with a new update to TOWGA — Chapter 17. Hope you enjoy it.
Note: If you already read "Beverage Guy", still don't skip this chapter — it's a slightly different and expanded compared to the standalone version.
Have a good weekend!
xoxo, Merigold
The One Who Got Away — TOC
Hi everyone
Here is the rest of Chapter 16.
This one was tough to write – but it needed to be done.
If you haven't read Part One of this chapter, make sure to go there first.
Happy Friday and good weekend!
xoxo, Merigold
TOWGA — Table of Contents
This is super short – just Part One of this chapter. The rest isn't ready yet.
But I thought since it's Friday, and since the last Chapter ended in the middle of a scene, I'd give you this as a small bonus.
xoxo, Merigold
Thank you for your patience! Better late than never, right?
Going through this chapter again after not really looking at it for years, I realized I don't like it at all. But I also don't feel like rewriting it, so this is how it is: Chapter 15.
Have a good week everyone!
xoxo, Merigold
The One Who Got Away – Table of Contents
Hi people
Same as last time – haven't had the chance this week to do the formal editing. Maybe I'll be able to post the next chapter on Sunday or Monday, but no promises.
Heads up that it might be like this for the next five weeks, because summer break has started, so I'm very busy with the kids.
But everything will be posted, no worries.
xoxo, Merigold
Happy Friday everybody
It's date night! Please enjoy Chapter 14 of TOWGA
As always, thank you so much for reading and commenting ♡
xoxo, Merigold
The One Who Got Away – TOC
Firfir protests sleepily as I push him off my stomach and fold back the two layers of blanket I'm buried under. He shakes his head, yawns, and hops off the sofa, his eyes sparkling in the dim light as he stretches and scratches his claws on the carpeted floor before vanishing toward the door.
Right. There was a knock at the door—the reason I woke up. I squint to find my warm flannel house shoes and hurry to slip my feet inside. It's almost dark in the living room, the light over the table off although I'm sure I switched it on earlier. Another blackout. The fireplace is barely giving light; the wood is too wet for a decent fire, and it took me half an hour to get it burning in the first place.
"Ma'am?" A low voice, muffled behind the door.
"Dawit?"
I hear the door handle creak. The door opens and when I turn my head, I see Firfir‘s tail slipping past two black feet clad in dusty sandals.
Hello dear readers
Thank you so much to all of you who are still here. Love your comments every week ♡
I know you all are waiting for that first date, but that's next week. Today, the love/cheese fest continues with Chapter 13.
Happy Friday everyone!
xoxo, Merigold
TOWGA – Table of Contents
Ok, everyone
We're back. Here is Chapter 12 of TOWGA. It's somewhat slow. Hope you guys will still like it.
Have a good weekend!
xoxo, Merigold
The One Who Got Away – Table Of Contents
This was a short story posted last month on my Patreon, but wanted to share here too. It's a bit different from my usual fare (very dialogue heavy...I'm practicing, y'all! 😅) but hopefully one or two people still enjoy it.
Please let me know what you think about Pillow Talk.
Hey everyone!
Since things are a bit quieter this week, I thought I'd share a new short story with you: Onsight.
Hope you're all enjoying the sunshine wherever you are!
Best,
Lovis
Hey lovely people
The next one's up – here comes Chapter 11, aka "the moment".
I hope you all like cheese...!
Happy Friday and xoxo, Merigold
I met Mr. Carlson right in front of the door, my key already in hand.
“Oh—Miss Goodman.”
“Good morning, Mr. Carlson.”
He looked rushed, his hair less tidy than usual and his coat only half on. He clutched his black leather case and a scarf in one hand, about to close the door with the other—only to hold it open for me instead.
The first time he heard the noise coming from the other side of the wall, Ethan thought his roommate must have had a terrible accident. He lay frozen in bed for a split second, heart hammering as he listened in shock, before throwing the heavy comforter aside. The cold stung with the contrast to the warmth of the bed as Ethan‘s body was suddenly exposed to fresh air, but he pushed himself upright and hurried into the hallway. No doubt Jared needed his help.
I blink against the sunbeam slicing through a gap in the blinds, landing square on my face. Black silk sheets. The wall papered in matte purple. A framed picture showing two bodies intertwined in shadow. Next to it, a pencil sketch of a nude woman. I pause—his ex? A full laundry basket in the corner. Beside a glossy black wardrobe, a stack of throw pillows.
I let my head sink back into the remaining pillow on my side of the bed and close my eyes. Late twenties, I'm thinking. Reasonably successful. Charming. Probably surprised I came home with him last night, but not overly so. Single for... a year?
Hi everyone,
Chapter 9 is up, and it's... probably not what you would have expected. Honestly, I struggled with this one, and I'm still not super happy with the result.
On the plus side, this is the longest chapter yet!
Have a great weekend!
xoxo, Merigold
PS: Thank you very much for all your comments last week!
The One Who Got Away – Table Of Contents
Hello lovely people,
Chapter 8 has arrived!
To everyone who's still here: Thank you! Lost quite a few readers with Chapter 5, which is totally fine and was to be expected, because not everyone is into the medical crisis thing.
All the more grateful I am for all of you who are still reading and commenting! ♡
Happy Friday!
xoxo, Merigold
The One Who Got Away – Table Of Contents
Hi everyone
Chapter 7 of TOWGA is now up. I promise this is the last one where virtually nothing happens.
Have a nice weekend!
Hello everyone,
The story continues – Chapter 6 is now up! A slightly shorter one this time, and a bit of a filler, sorry.
Have I mentioned you all are absolutely amazing for loving Seth and Kay with me? :D Thank you for all your lovely comments!
Happy Friday and xoxo, Merigold
The One Who Got Away – TOC
This is one I posted on my Patreon several months ago, and also DeviantArt, but never posted here. Whoops! I'll say, it's a little disability lite, but it's still one of my favorite things I've written, so wanted to put it here too 🙂
Hello lovely people
Thank you again for the comments last week. They mean THE WORLD <3
I've just uploaded the next chapter of TOWGA. Another one I don't feel too confident about... not much is happening.
Anyway, here is Chapter 5.
Have a great weekend!
xoxo, Merigold
The One Who Got Away – Table Of Contents
Hi everyone
Please enjoy Chapter 4 of TOWGA :)
Let me know what you think!
Also, once you've reached the end of Part One, can you guess what's going on?
Happy Easter!
xoxo, Merigold
Hi people,
thank you for all the comments last week, I truly appreciate every single one!
Here comes Chapter 3 of TOWGA.
This is one of those that I'm not really happy with, to be honest. It's also quite slow and fragmented. But because it's needed for the story development, I can't just scratch it.
I hope you'll still enjoy it a bit.
xoxo, Merigold
The One Who Got Away – Table Of Contents
Hi everyone,
Climbing spots aren't quiet. You'd think you need silence to concentrate when there's hundreds of feet of air below you, or maybe people would keep quiet out of respect for nature or others around. But no. Usually there's lots of yelling—requests for more rope or less rope, questions about route direction or comments on its quality, the general screams of support (best if offered as a choir), and then of course the frustrated cry from the climber and collective groan from spectators accompanying a fall. There's rarely silence at climbing spots.
Hi everyone,
This is it!! Chapter 32 has arrived, concluding our steamy journey with Jay and Darren. It took me a while to write this final chapter because I'm just terrible at goodbyes! :)
I hope you've enjoyed reading this story as much as I've enjoyed writing it. It was such fun! I'll definitely miss these two characters and posting new chapters. I may return with a short story or another longer project in the future. Until then, I'm confident the story blog is in good hands with old and new authors. I just looove all the new stories that have popped up recently!!
Thank you all for reading and your comments, love you!
Have a great week!
Lovis
Hello lovely people
You asked for it, so here it is :D Kay and Seth's full story.
Just a few heads up I'd like to give:
Anyway, here's
Kay had specifically planned on not being nervous.
Well, here she was: a nervous mess. Introducing a new boyfriend to family was nerve-wracking in itself, but adding a disability into the mix took it to a whole new level.
"Is that her?" Seth pointed his chin towards the other end of the plaza. Kay followed his gaze and nodded. Her older sister was approaching the café in her usual brisk stride, high heels clacking. She was in business woman mode.
The knot in Kay's stomach tightened, and she wrapped her hands around Seth's slim upper arm, momentarily burying her face in his shoulder with a groan.
A kiss brushed the top of her head. "It's gonna be fine."
She looked up, meeting those dark deep eyes that always managed to calm her down. Those eyes that never failed. And just like that, her nervousness dissipated, transforming into something else: A sense of We. This was her man. Whoever had a problem with her relationship could go fuck themselves. Stella included. She craned her neck and placed a kiss on Seth's lips. "I love you", she whispered, then turned around to see her sister now just a few strides away from their table and seeking her gaze.
Kay stood up. "Hey you." Please don't fuck this up Sis. Please please please.
Kay could only hope that her sister would keep in mind what they had talked about on the phone."Is there anything I should know about… you know, dealing with him?" Stella had asked, and Kay had told her the one and only thing there was to know: "He's a regular person, Stel. Please don't treat him any differently."
"Hi Sis," Stella now offered a quick hug, then her eyes darted from Kay to Seth. They didn't linger any longer on him than a second. "Hi", she nervously gripped the strap of her handbag. "I'm Stella."
"Hey Stella. I'm Seth." As always with people who were being weird around him, he didn't bat an eye at her apparent discomfort. Instead, he gave her a genuine smile.
Stella stiffly shifted on her feet, and it was clear that she was feeling awkward about the impossibility of a handshake.
"We haven't ordered yet", Kay said to fill the silence, shoving the menu card across the table."Never been here before", Stella gladly went along with the small talk as she sat down. "Cute place." She picked up the menu card, studying it with just a little too much interest, apparently relieved to have something to focus on. "Oh, they have a nice tea selection", she murmured approvingly.
"The Genmaicha is really good", Seth remarked. "If you're into green tea."
Stella looked up distractedly. Or more like startled. As if the fact that he was taking part in the conversation surprised her. "I love that one", she responded with an uneasy smile, and Kay could see she was doing that thing many people did when talking to Seth: Keeping her gaze unnaturally fixated on his face, as if the rest of him was forbidden to look at.
Kay rolled her eyes to herself. This was something she herself had never done when she had first seen him post-injury. Quite the opposite actually, she hadn’t been able to stop staring. Granted, she and Seth hadn’t been strangers at that point. Far from that.
The First Friday
The clock strikes 5 pm, and the sleek lobby of VegaTech begins to fill with people. Most of them stare a bit, as they walk by me on their way to a well-deserved weekend. I’m an easy target to stare at, from the huge electric wheelchair to my habit of decorating it with pride flags. One of the men walking by gives me that furtive, out-of-the-corner-of-his-eye-once-over-look that I can clock as a certain kind of interest from a mile away. He’s cute enough, and usually, I’m always up to a flirt with a devotee, but today I ignore him. My sister Vanessa is now officially an hour late. That might not be a big deal for some people, but for me it’s a deal the size of the Louisiana Purchase.
Next to me, Steve is pacing. He’s a good guy and a great caregiver, but after a 12 hour shift stretching into a 13th hour, he’s just as annoyed as I am. His wife and kids are waiting back home, but I absolutely must not be left alone ever, for fear something could go wrong with my vent, and Steve will stick by my side until Vanessa is here to take his place. Among many other duties she has, it’s her job to take me to my weekly therapy appointment. I already missed it last week, and I’m still pissed off about it.
Steve points towards the elevators.
“Isn’t that dude over there on Nessy’s team?”
He’s right. A guy in cargo shorts and a dark blue VegaTech polo shirt, one of Vanessa’s fellow engineers, fresh out of the elevator, spots me hanging out by the reception desk and jogs over.
“Sorry, Toby! Nessy is still upstairs, the new manager just gave us a new deadline.”
Oh, yes, same as last week. Three months ago, the kind older gentleman who understood my sister’s time constraints as one of my carers was replaced by a jerk straight from company headquarters. Ever since my usually dependable sister has become flaky. I understand her worries, and of course, her cushy position at VegaTech is what keeps us afloat, but I also need to be at my appointment, or I’ll risk losing the very little function I have left as a c1/c2 quad.
That’s it. VegaTech likes to brag about their track record with inclusivity. It’s time to see what that’s worth. Using the sip-and-puff control, I turn my power chair around and make my way over to the reception desk.
“Hi, Kristy. Can you tell Mr. Gerber that Toby Burnett is here to see him?”
Continuing with the preview of, Eroshenko, here is Chapter Two. Thanks everyone who ordered already.
I grip the steering wheel so tightly that my knuckles are white against the black leather. Is that little clacking sound the car makes normal? Maybe it’s just me, hyper-aware of everything right now.
Because of Brandon.
He sits beside me in the passenger seat, calm as ever, his right leg stretched out comfortably. The left one is a prosthetic, not that anybody could tell underneath his jeans. His hooks, much more obvious than his missing leg, glint in the corner of my eye, one idly tapping against the other in a steady rhythm to the radio.
“It’s accessible,” I say again, glancing at him quickly before returning my eyes to the road. “I checked, like, three times. I called them, went through their website, even cross-referenced reviews. They’ve got ramps, an elevator, even grab bars in the shower.”
Brandon leans his head back against the seat, a faint smile tugging at his lips. He’s so handsome. My stomach churns.
“You know, Jen, you don’t have to go through all this trouble. I’ve stayed in places that weren’t exactly...perfectly accessible, and I managed just fine.”
“That’s not the point,” I say, trying to keep my tone light but feeling the heat rise in my chest. “It’s supposed to be perfect. This is your first trip with me. Our first trip. I don’t want you worrying about managing. I want you to participate in everything the spa has to offer.”
He chuckles softly. It’s so easy for him. That’s part of what I love about Brandon—he’s grounded in a way I don’t quite know how to be. He shifts slightly, his myoelectric left leg whirring faintly as the sensors adjust. He doesn’t seem to notice the sound anymore, but I always do. It reminds me of all the things I have to remember—things I don’t want to mess up.
“Relax,” he says, his voice warm but firm. “This trip isn’t about proving anything. I’m already with you, remember?”
I swallow hard, my fingers easing their death grip on the wheel. “I know. I just want it to be special.”
“It already is,” he says, his voice softer now. “You’re driving. I’m relaxing. And you’ve put way more thought into this than anyone else ever has.”
My cheeks flush, and I let myself glance at him again. He’s looking at me now, his hazel eyes full of unshakable calm. The hooks resting on his thighs gleam faintly in the sunlight. I know he’s not self-conscious about them, and he’s told me I don’t need to tiptoe around them either. Still, I can’t help myself. The sight of them makes my stomach tighten, a flash of heat that I force down with every ounce of willpower I have.
I can’t let it show. Not now. Not ever.
As promised, you have lots of choices if you don't want to give money to Amazon. Purchase the ebook or paperback from:
Bookshop.org is now also offering ebooks, not just paperbacks. It's a great way to support local bookstores.
Or bypass all these corporations and order a paperback directly from me HERE, for a $3 discount.
If you don't want to buy a copy, you can request your local library to order a paperback or ebook. Or if you have a Librarything or Netgalley account, you can request a review copy, but only until the end of this month.
No matter where you read, please leave a review, especially on Goodreads. It helps a lot! Thanks so much for your support. I really appreciate it!
And now a preview for your enjoyment...
This is a photo of Eroshenko performing in a concert with other students from the Tokyo School for the Blind, probably in 1915.
Click through to read Chapter One
The clerk’s fake smile doesn’t falter, but it’s still fake. I lean a little closer to the desk, gripping the edge. “You don’t understand. I can’t just sleep in my car. It’s freezing out there.”
“I’m sorry, ma’am.” His voice is syrupy, the kind that doesn’t actually mean sorry. “We’re fully booked. This storm caught a lot of people off guard.”
“Right, including me.” My voice is sharper than I mean it to be, and I feel bad for it instantly, but I’m exhausted, soaked, and the thought of sitting in my car all night makes my stomach twist. “There has to be something. A closet. A cot in the basement. I’ll take anything.”
The guy glances over my shoulder, probably hoping someone else will step up and distract me. No luck for him. The lobby is practically empty except for a guy passed out on one of the couches. The clerk’s fingers drum on the desk. “I’ve already told you—”
“Ellie?”
I freeze, grip tightening on the desk. That’s not possible. Not here. Slowly, I turn.
And there he is. Jack Baker. Ten years, and he’s still unmistakably Jack—sharp jawline, the same easy grin, even under the shadow of a soaked baseball cap. But what stops me, what shifts everything, is the sleek black wheelchair he’s sitting in. His hands rest on the push rims, his posture casual like he’s been here all along.
“Jack?” My voice wavers for half a second before I clamp it down. My brain is working overtime, trying to connect the dots. Last I knew, he was climbing mountains out west. Now he’s here, wheels glinting in the fluorescent light, grinning at me like we bumped into each other at the grocery store.
“Well, I’ll be damned,” he says, rolling a little closer. The grin doesn’t falter. “Ellie Thompson, of all people. Small world, huh?”
