Three weeks after her arrival in Sean’s home town, Jenna had to face two unhappy truths: she was zero help to her husband in his current mental state, and the pie at Mac’s was no longer an acceptable form of therapy.

She could deal with the latter point more easily than the former. She found a therapist in Wiarton who could see her once a week, and she started walking every evening. Sometimes Chloe or Olivia came with her, but often she walked on her own. She explored every street in the small town, and figured out the fastest way to get from Dean’s little house to the still-freezing-cold beach where the town dipped down to the natural harbour on Lake Huron which gave the town its name.

Grace checked in with her every few days too. Jenna clung to her friendships with these women, to the new routines she was forging, because after a week of decent visits with Sean, everything between them had gone downhill.

And counting in weeks had been reassuring when she first arrived, but now they were nearing the twelve week mark post-trauma. She’d been here for four weeks. Pretty soon, she’d be counting in months, and that shift felt depressing.

She focused on work to distract herself. By the start of June, Jenna had her documentation submitted to the provincial midwifery college. She had to take an online course while her registration was being transferred from British Columbia to Ontario. In another month or two, she’d be registered and able to apply for local jobs. She was purposefully keeping herself from doing any active job hunting, though, since most positions were further afield than she wanted and the lure of that escape would probably be attractive to her at this point.

Very attractive, if she let herself admit how frustrated she was getting with Sean.

The closest they’d come to a real, meaningful conversation had been weeks ago. In the time since, he’d been cold and hard to her, and some days, hadn’t been up for a visit at all. She’d gotten used to his cryptic texts. Today’s not a good day.

She hated she couldn’t do anything to relieve the migraines.

She hated that her visits taxed him. She didn’t want to be a drain in any way. She wanted to give him room to recover, but she also ached to see him for the twenty-two hours a day she was away from him. Stretching it to forty hours between visits physically hurt her.

And in the crazy yo-yo swing between feelings, she’d come to resent going to Dean and Liana’s house to see him. The beautiful home Sean had turned into a voluntary prison.

Anger surged through her, unexpected and harsh.

He obviously didn’t want her to meddle in his care. It wasn’t her place. She told herself to be respectful of boundaries and understand he could choose the care he wanted—or didn’t—and he was smart enough to be making good choices.

She told herself a lot of bullshit.

He needed something else.

And his brothers, as well meaning as they were, weren’t helping.

She took a deep breath and marched up the porch. She knocked loudly on the front door, then stepped back and propped her hands on her hips for a second before clasping them behind her back.

No need to be confrontational.

But when the door swung open, her mouth opened and words poured out.

“I’m here to collect Sean and bring him back to my place. Your place. Your old place, I mean. This isn’t the right environment for him, with you doting on him.”

Dean gave her a long, slow blink. “Hey, Jenna.”

She swallowed hard and nodded. “Hi.”

“So you…willingly…want to live with the grumpiest man on the peninsula?”

Want wasn’t the right word. Needed, maybe. “It’s the right thing to do.”

“I’m guessing you haven’t suggested this to him yet.”

She flushed with guilt. “No.”

Dean grinned. “That’s the Foster way. Come on in.” He stepped out of the way and hollered up the stairs to Sean. “Yo, bud! Your wife is here!”

That had stopped embarrassing Jenna somewhere around the fourth visit, but it hadn’t stopped making her feel funny in a different way, deep inside. There was a long stretch of silence. Then they heard a grumble, followed by, “Yeah. Coming down.”

What? Jenna started for the stairs, but stopped when Sean rounded the corner on his own. Well, not totally on his own.

He was holding a cane.

Using it, even.

He didn’t look at her. His gaze was fixed on a point on the wall high above her. She could only imagine how much concentration it took for him to ignore the swirling disorientation that was his constant vertigo.

But he was doing it. Step, step, step.

He stopped at the top of the stairs and switched the cane to his other hand before grabbing the bannister and with a lot more grace than she expected, he sat down.

It was a little thing, really.

But he sat down fluidly. No hesitation. Was he aware he’d done that?

She beamed at him as he took the stairs on his bottom, and when he stood in front of her, he rolled his eyes. “Don’t look so proud.”

She could scarcely believe what she was seeing. Proud didn’t even touch the surface of how she felt. “I am,” she said, her voice cracking. Damn feelings.

His jaw flexed as he switched the cane again and leaned against it.

“You’ve been practicing behind my back.” She smiled to soften that statement. “How? Here?” Maybe she was wrong about this being a bad place for him to recuperate. He’d made more progress than she’d ever have suspected.

“Here. Owen Sound for physio. Some strength training, too.”

How had she not seen it? She looked at him through fresh eyes. He was standing stronger, and his face wasn’t pinched in pain, either.

Dean cleared his throat. “Jenna was saying—”

“Nothing important,” she interjected.

Sean’s brother gave her a confused look.

Now wasn’t the time to change his routine. Not when he was finally on the path to recovery.

“It can wait.” She pointed toward the kitchen. “Okay, Mr. Mobile, offer me a coffee or something.”

* * *

Sean watched Jenna eye the fancy cane sugar cubes Liana liked. She looked at them three times, each time convincing herself she didn’t need them. She’d been cutting back, he’d noticed. His old self would have understood, and encouraged her.

Now he had to keep himself from reaching out and putting one in her cup for her. Life was too damn short to deprive oneself of a sugar cube in one’s coffee.

“What was Dean talking about before?” he asked when she finally lifted her unsweetened coffee to her lips.

She sipped slowly.

He waited. He’d caught the edge of their conversation, something about the right thing to do. Depending on who you asked, that could be a lot of different things.

She couldn’t leave. That wasn’t right.

He couldn’t keep her here, though. That wouldn’t be fair.

Fair and right weren’t the same thing anymore, though. Not in his new normal.

For months, he’d buried the memories deep. All the things he’d said to her. All the promises he’d made. He hadn’t known jack shit when he’d been spouting that nonsense. Thought he could offer her the moon when really, all they got were a few dances in the moonlight.

Borrowed magic. That’s what they’d had.

“You seem like you’re doing a lot better now,” she finally said, softly.

His chest tightened. Let her go. That had been the plan, but now that it was here, now that she might be done…it hurt. Selfish at every turn. “Yeah. Well, I’m motivated.” Her eyes lit up. He couldn’t have that. There was no room for hope. “I need to get out of here.”

“Really?” Her eyes got brighter still. “I wondered if you were happier with everything your brothers were doing.”

“I don’t want to rely on them,” he said tightly, and then to drive the point home, he added, “Or anyone.”

Bam. Direct hit. He put that light in her eyes out like a fucking pro, like an emotional sniper, and his stomach turned.

“Good,” she said softly, glancing back to her coffee. “That’s great.” She didn’t look at him. She played with her spoon. “So…are you more mobile now? I mean, I feel kind of horrible for not noticing the improvement over the last month.”

“There wasn’t much change, at first.” He gave her a rueful smile. “I did my degree in kinesiology. I should have had more faith. But I wasn’t sure it was going to work. I didn’t know what else to do, but I was pessimistic.”

She lifted her head, her eyes wide as she searched his face. “Did you worry I would be too optimistic?”

The question startled him, and he answered before he could stop himself. “Maybe. Yes.”

“Oh.” She nodded slowly. “I understand that.”

“The real breakthrough came last week. And then I really was exhausted the next day when you came over.” He hadn’t needed to lie to her as much as he’d thought he would.

And he’d found himself increasingly uncomfortable with that plan, anyway.

“So how mobile are you?”

“It’s a lot faster than with the walker. I haven’t started testing myself on distance, but I can move around the house no problem.”

“That’s amazing.” Damn it. Nothing could keep her hope dimmed for more than a minute or two. She fiddled with her spoon as she looked at him. “How would you feel about…”

When she trailed off, he leaned in. “About?”

She pressed her lips together. Her eyes shifted, like she was re-categorizing her thoughts before continuing. “Come over for dinner. I…I go for a walk most nights now. It’s been a soothing routine. And the sidewalk in front of Dean’s old place is easier to walk on than the gravel drive here, I bet.”

“Dinner.”

“No pressure. Would lunch be easier?”

“Dinner’s fine,” he heard himself say.

Was it fine?

It was something.

Definitely not part of the plan, that was for sure.

But he found himself struggling to find a good reason to shut her down again.

* * *

Not once in her early relationship with Sean had Jenna felt nervous. Excited, yes. Shy, a couple of times. Overwhelmed with want…constantly.

But nerves hadn’t played a role in how they started. There’d been no expectations. What was there to be nervous about flirting with a man who was going to disappear from her life? And then by the time they were travelling together, they were friends and lovers, and the time for nerves was past.

Their wedding day, maybe.

She pulled out their rings, carefully stowed in the small wooden box he’d bought her in Arcos. She tried to remember that day, but it was cloudy now, fogged up by all the frustration and fear since.

Definitely something to talk to her therapist about. Not something to dwell on tonight. Sean would be arriving soon. Dean said he’d drop him off around four.

She looked at her phone. Five minutes to the hour, and her stomach was a riot of butterflies.

When she heard the growl of a truck out front, she forced herself to go to the kitchen instead of racing to the front door. If she was too excited, that would stress Sean out. They both knew she wanted this desperately. She didn’t need to highlight it for him with sparklers and a neon sign.

When the knock came at the door, she counted to three—and then the door opened.

“Hey,” Sean called out, letting himself in.

She stepped into the hallway. “Hey.”

They stood there, exchanging nervous looks for a moment. Then she laughed and pointed to the living room. “Want to sit?”

He gave her a tired smile. “Yes. Thanks.”

Out the front window, she spotted Dean pulling away.

Sean followed her gaze. “I told him he wasn’t allowed to come in. I didn’t need a chaperone.”

“He worries about you.”

“We get on each other’s last nerve.”

“That too.”

“Last time I was here, we were having a house party,” Sean said as he eased into the corner of the couch. “Dean was away, falling in love with Liana, and Matt’s apartment was too crowded. That feels like a lifetime ago.”

Jenna curled up in the arm chair and frowned in confusion. “What about your place?”

“I was staying at the Colonel’s house. I was gone so much that maintaining a separate apartment here stopped making sense.”

“But…” Sean despised his father. Spending any amount of time together didn’t make any sense, either. Jenna still hadn’t met the man. He was the only Foster who hadn’t actively sought her out, and Pine Harbour was a small town. Not having met yet meant the man was avoiding her, which she didn’t care about—except in any way that affected Sean.

Sean gave her a lopsided, tired smile. “Yeah. Looking back, that seems like a weird choice. I don’t know. We both seemed to like the antagonism. I wouldn’t do it now. Couldn’t. When I was injured, he didn’t even offer to take me in. I think it was just understood that Dean would do it.”

“Have you seen him a lot since you’ve been back?”

“No. A few visits in the first week or two. But his thing is that he likes to have us all over for dinner every so often. So far we’ve only managed one, just before you arrived, and it was at Dean’s house. I think the old man is waiting until I’m mobile again to rally his sons around. That’s what he likes to do, summon us.”

She’d promised him no pressure. But a regular family dinner raised all sorts of questions. She took a deep breath and changed the subject. “Speaking of dinner, what would you like tonight? I’ve got salad stuff, stew in the freezer, and chicken breasts.”

“I’m easy. Can I help?”

“Sure. But we’ve got some time first. Do you want a drink?”

He shook his head. “Thanks.”

So polite. So shallow. Small talk might just kill her.

“Nice weather—”

“Do you want to watch something—”

They stopped at the same time and laughed. Sean gave her a lopsided grin. “So how about that sports team?”

“Right? Really slaying the ball stats this year.” She groaned and rolled her head to the side as she laughed with him.

He pointed to her tablet on the coffee table. “Have you been listening to anything new?”

“Yeah. Actually, I got a new album.” She reached for it and swiped into the music player. “Folk rock, a little bit country, a little bit blues. Good for walking to.”

“You said you were walking after dinner. How far have you explored?”

And just like that, they slid into a real conversation about Sean’s home town. They laughed together about the house painted purple and teal, and she filled him in on the latest gossip she’d overheard at Mac’s—and he in turn explained who the gossip was about, since a lot of the names were still unfamiliar to her.

After a while, she stretched her arms and declared it cooking time. He excused himself to the washroom, and she went to the kitchen to get the prep started.

As she chopped vegetables, she listened to him move through the house. The thunk of his cane, the squeak of the wood floor as he slowly walked down the hall. She smiled to herself. She liked the noises of having Sean here.

Barely five weeks. They were still in early days, and if only for a meal, she had her husband back. If she squinted, she could see this as their future.

“What did you decide to make?” he asked from the doorway.

“Stirfry,” she said, glancing at him over her shoulder. Just a second, just enough to soak up the sight of him filling the doorway. Did he know he was standing taller lately? She even liked the beard. He needed a haircut, but she’d let him figure that out on his own. “Would you rather rice or noodles?”

He scratched his belly, pulling up his shirt a bit, and she had a visceral flashback to Spain. She turned back to her cutting board lest he see the desire in her eyes.

No lusting after her husband. Not yet.

“Rice sounds good,” he said from behind her. “What can I do?”

“Set the table? The rice will take twenty minutes, and then it’ll be time to eat.”

“I can do that.”

Baby steps. She smiled again to herself. One thing at a time.

* * *

For Sean’s next rehab session, Jake and baby Calvin picked him up and drove him down the peninsula to the hospital.

Jenna hadn’t pushed back on his preference to do this without her. She’d just smiled and wished him luck.

It wouldn’t be, though. It never was. He hated the circuit of exercises they put him through. Balance and orientation stuff designed to retrain his brain, but all it did was make him so tired he always passed out on the drive home.

He knew they worked. He was using a cane, wasn’t he?

That didn’t mean he liked them, though, and on a day-to-day basis, they hurt more than they helped.

He had to get his attention back on the long term goal. Independence. Getting to a place where everyone around him could stop watching him like he was an invalid.

Speaking of his independence…

“Do we have time to stop and get me a new cell phone?” he asked Jake when his brother picked him up.

Jake looked at Calvin, sleeping in his car seat. “Yeah, of course.”

The phone he’d taken overseas had been lost in transit back to Canada. Some of his personal belongings had shown up, but not others. And in the weeks after he’d returned home, he hadn’t cared, hadn’t wanted any contact with the outside world.

But it was ridiculous that Jenna—or anyone else, not that anyone else did—had to contact him through Dean and Liana. That needed to change.

The clerk at the store set it up for him on the cell network, but as soon as they left, he turned it off and put it in his pocket. One thing at a time. Phone acquired. Check. Didn’t mean he had to use the thing.

“I’m gonna rack out for the drive back, if you don’t mind.”

Jake just squeezed his shoulder. “Of course.”

The most common refrain his brothers said to him now. Sure, Sean. Whatever you need. Of course.

It had been what he wanted after coming home. But now it was starting to chafe, and that was his own making, wasn’t it?