Fighting Our Way (Broken Tracks 2)

“It’s so beautiful,” I murmur, not quite believing how I look in this jumpsuit. I have no doubt in my mind that Nate won’t be able to take his eyes off me. At least, I hope he won’t.

“It is,” Charlotte whispers, meeting my gaz

e in the mirror. “But so are you.”

I swallow audibly. Having a mother figure is something I’ve missed over the last six years.

“Thank you,” I finally manage to whisper, pushing back the tears threatening to fall.

Charlotte rubs her hand up and down my back before stepping away. “I’ll grab some pins.”

“Okay.”

She flits out of the room, leaving me standing in front of the mirror, staring at my reflection and wondering if what stares back at me is the truth. The woman in the mirror looks happy, her chocolate eyes deep and shining bright.

“Let’s get this pinned and taken in for you.”

I jump at the sound of Charlotte’s voice, nodding as she steps forward and pulls the fabric, pinning it before stepping back and saying, “Take it off and we can grab some lunch while I get Vanessa to take it in.”

“Oh, no. You’re okay, I can wait.”

“Nonsense.” She waves her hand again in the way she does to dismiss things.

I head back into the fitting room, pulling the jumpsuit off carefully and putting my own clothes back on before heading back out with it draped over my arm.

“How much do I owe you?” I ask when Charlotte has dropped it off at one of the sewing stations.

“What?”

She opens another door, grabbing her purse and tilting her head for me to follow her.

“For the jumpsuit and heels.”

She leads me back into the reception area, frowning as she pulls open the door to lead us onto the sidewalk.

“I don’t expect you to pay for them,” she scoffs. “Give me some gossip about Tris and the kids and we’ll call it square.”

I chuckle, walking beside her, heading into the busier part of the city. “Well, Tris got drunk last night.”

“He did?”

“Yep.” I nod my head. “But it was a good kind of drunk. I think things are finally looking up for him.”

Charlotte looks at me, her face a mask of pure joy before she says, “It’s about time.”

I couldn’t agree more.

After a great night with Tris, I feel like things are finally getting back on track. He messaged me on Tuesday and asked if I was free next weekend. Turns out he’s throwing a birthday party for Izzie; it’s like he’s turned into a new man all because of Harmony.

It gives me hope Amelia and I can finally come clean to everyone about us. Surely he’d just want us to be happy?

I realized after she brought the kids over we’d never actually arranged a second date, so I messaged her and asked if she was free on Saturday—meaning today. She replied she might be if I was still cooking for her.

I had planned to pick her up but I got caught up in a conference call with a client way past the time I was meant to, so I called a car service to bring her to my place. I only had enough time to jump in the shower and start setting the table before it was time for her to arrive.

That thought has me smiling from ear to ear. Not once today have I been nervous. Everything about Amelia and me feels right and easy—apart from feeling like we’re sneaking around sometimes. That bit of the relationship is equally exciting as it is irritating, but it’ll hopefully change soon.

I walk back into the kitchen, checking everything is already prepped so I don’t have to spend a second more away from her than is necessary. I pull out two beers from the fridge and twist off the caps, walking toward the door as I hear the sound of gravel kick up. It’s normally so quiet you can tell when someone is here.