Chapter 62: CHAPTER SIXTY-TWO

Damon's POV

The air in the room feels thick with everything we haven’t said, everything we both know but don’t know how to say. It’s been a few days since the conversation about Kai, and I can’t shake the weight of that moment. Winter said she needed time, that we both needed time. But it’s not time I’m looking for. I’m looking for something more, something real.

I sit on the edge of the couch, my eyes wandering over the empty space beside me. I can’t remember the last time this place felt like home. Maybe it never did. Maybe it’s always been a little broken, a little too far from where I wanted to be.

I know Winter’s still figuring things out, but so am I. I should be thinking about my recovery, about getting back on the court, about all the shit that’s supposed to be keeping me busy. But I can’t stop thinking about her. And I can’t stop thinking about Kai. The more I try to push it down, the more it presses back.

The front door creaks open, pulling me from my thoughts. I don’t even have to look to know it’s her. I can feel her presence in the room, and I swear, it’s like I’ve been waiting for her all day. I don’t even know what for, but I can’t deny the pull between us. Not that I’ve tried.

“Hey,” Winter says softly, stepping inside. Her voice is hesitant, like she’s not sure whether it’s okay to be here anymore. I don’t blame her. I’ve been pushing her away without meaning to. It’s just... complicated.

I force myself to look up, but I don’t say anything at first. My words seem stuck in my throat. Every time I try to speak, it feels like I’m holding back more than I can let out. Maybe it’s just me being afraid of what happens next. “Hey,” I finally manage, though it comes out as a croak. Not exactly smooth.

Winter steps further into the room, her movements slow, as if testing the air between us. “How’s your leg?” she asks, her tone soft and professional.

“It’s healing,” I reply, but it feels like we’re talking about something else entirely. It’s a nice cover-up, though, keeps things from getting too raw. Keeps the tension at bay, even though I know we both feel it.

She looks at me for a long moment, and I can feel the weight of her gaze, the way it seems to look straight through me. I hate how easily she does that. It’s like she can see the cracks I keep hidden, even when I don’t want her to.

“You’re still recovering,” she says, breaking the silence. “You don’t need to worry about anything else right now.” Her voice has a quiet authority, like she’s trying to take charge of the situation, but I can hear the faint tremor beneath the calm surface.

She’s just as unsure as I am. “I can’t just sit around and ignore everything else, Winter,” I say, my frustration slipping out before I can stop it. “I know it’s not easy, but I can’t keep pretending like I don’t care.”

Her eyes flicker, just for a second, before she quickly looks away. “It’s not about pretending, Damon. It’s about what we can handle. Right now, we’re both dealing with a lot; this thing with Kai, your recovery, everything.”

“I’m not pretending,” I say, pushing myself off the couch. I don’t know what to do with my hands, so I shove them in my pockets. “You think I don’t know that? I know it’s complicated, but I can’t keep pretending like I’m okay with... with all of this.” I gesture around the room, but I’m really talking about everything, about Kai, about us.

“I didn’t ask for any of this,” Winter says, her voice barely above a whisper, but there’s a hardness in it that cuts deeper than I expect. She’s not looking at me now, her eyes focused on the floor, like it’s easier to face the ground than to meet my gaze. I step closer, against my better judgment. “I didn’t either,” I mutter. “But here we are. And I’m not going anywhere, Winter. Not unless you tell me to.”

She looks up at that, her eyes meeting mine with an intensity that takes me by surprise. There’s something there. Something that tells me she’s been thinking about this too. I can see it in the way her breath catches, in the way her lips tremble slightly. But she doesn’t say anything. Instead, she bites her lip and looks away again, like she’s afraid to give anything more away.

“I’m not asking you to stay for me,” she says after a long pause, her voice fragile. “I’m asking you to stay for Kai.” Her words hit harder than I expect. There’s something raw in them, something desperate. She’s been doing this alone, trying to protect him, trying to keep him safe, and now that I’m part of it... part of him, I feel this shift inside me.

Maybe it’s not about the future with Winter. Maybe it’s about being there for Kai. About making sure he knows he has a father, even if everything around him is a mess. “I will,” I say, without thinking. “I’ll be here for both of you.” Winter nods, but there’s still that wall between us. It’s not enough. Not yet. But I know this is where we start.

She takes a slow breath, steadying herself. “Okay,” she says softly, but there’s something uncertain in her voice. “But you have to understand, Damon. We’re still figuring this out. It’s not going to be easy.” “I know,” I answer, my voice quieter now. “I’m not asking for easy, just time and the chance to try.” She gives me a small nod, though it’s not a promise. Not yet. But it’s something. And for now, that’s enough.

The lines we walk are thin and frayed,

A bridge we built, yet still afraid.

Each step we take feels like a dare,

But we keep moving, unaware.

You speak in silence, I hear your call,

A voice inside me, soft but tall.

You don’t say much, but I know you see,

The cracks between us, the places we’re free.

The truth we hide, it’s hard to hold,

A secret we carry, icy and cold.

I wonder if you feel it too,

The weight of the words we never knew.

You are the storm that rages inside,

And I’m the calm, the place you hide.

But even in the quiet, I know you fight,

The battles within you, out of sight.

I wish you’d open up, let me in,

Let me see the places you’ve been.

But I’ll wait, though it’s hard to stand,

I’ll be here, with my heart in my hands.

For in this silence, we both exist,

A tangled mess of hope and mist.

And though we’re lost, we’ll find our way,

Together, in our own time, someday.