A SECOND CHANCE AT FOREVER Chapter 30: CHAPTER THIRTY

ASHLEY

The day after my mother’s death passed in a haze, like I was living in a fog. When I woke up the next morning, I found myself in Kyle's bed. He had driven me to the airport, quietly giving me all the details—telling me which funeral home to call, what questions I needed to ask, and what I should pack for the trip.

It was practical, methodical, and it helped more than any kind of well-meaning words ever could.

I moved through it all like a robot, ticking off the items one by one, but nothing registered. I didn’t feel anything. It was all mechanical.

Violet almost lost it when I told her I was already in Germany, attending my mother’s funeral.

“Ashley, what the hell? Why didn’t you tell me? Why didn’t you call?!”

She spiraled, a mess of concern and confusion, demanding to know why I hadn’t called her right away.

And the truth was, I hadn’t even thought to call her. My brain hadn’t fired in that direction. Maybe it was the disorientation, or maybe it was because Kyle had been the only one there when everything fell apart.

I hadn’t expected him to be there for me. Not like this. Not after everything.

But he was.

And as much as I hated to admit it, that made my feelings for him more complicated.

Now, sitting in the Bluerey Funeral Home, listening to the director go over last-minute details, I wished, more than anything, that I had someone with me. I was the only child of my mother, and we had no family left. My father's side had turned their back on us years ago after his death, and it had always been just me and her.

That made her death hurt like hell.

Kyle had told me earlier this morning on our way to the airport that he was heading off to Italy for a business deal. And for some inexplicable reason, hearing that sent an unexpected pang through me.

As I left the funeral home and stepped out into the street, the familiar sights of Germany unfolded around me. But everything seemed subtly different now, as if the world had tilted just a little while I had been away. I stared at the street corner, noticing the little things that I had long forgotten—the rusted cars parked haphazardly along the side of the road, their faded colors adding to the quiet, tired atmosphere of the town. A group of children skipped past, their laughter light and carefree, an unexpected contrast to the heaviness of my mood. The air was thick, almost stagnant, as if the entire city had held its breath for too long.

I had just spent a month away, and yet it felt as though time had bent and shifted while I was gone, leaving the place looking slightly unfamiliar and more muted.

I I breathed a silent sigh of relief when I finally reached the hotel. The gesture of Kyle booking me a room was thoughtful, though I couldn’t bring myself to fully appreciate it. The idea of staying at my mother's apartment felt unbearable right now—not when her absence still gnawed at me like a gaping hole in my chest. It felt like every breath I took was a struggle against the weight of her loss. After the funeral, I’d have to go back to gather her things, but for now, the hotel offered a much-needed reprieve, a small escape from the rawness of it all.

I reached into my bag, searching for my phone to check the time, but before I could find it, a voice stopped me cold.

“Hey, freckles.”

I froze, my hand still halfway in my tote. My heart skipped a beat, then accelerated, twisting and pounding in my chest like it was trying to escape. Thud. Thud. Thud.

It couldn’t be him. Maybe the coffee I’d gulped on the plane was playing tricks on my brain. I’d spent the last few days in a fog, so maybe I was just imagining things. There was no way it was him.

But when I lifted my head, there he was.

Kyle.

His worn duffel bag slung casually over his shoulder, his lips curving into that soft, familiar smile that always seemed to disarm me, no matter how hard I tried to guard myself.

“Why?” The word slipped out, almost before I could think. My brain still struggled to catch up with what I was seeing, unable to make sense of the man in front of me, standing there as if nothing had changed. Nothing made sense. He was supposed to be far away, out of reach, out of my life.

Kyle’s lips curled into that half-smile, the one that had always made me weak in the knees, and his eyes, steady and unwavering, never left mine. There was something about the way he looked at me—something knowing, something familiar, as if he could see right through me.

“I wanted to check out the Neuschwanstein Castle,” he said, the words falling effortlessly from his lips. “Heard it’s something you can’t miss if you’re in Germany.”

For a moment, everything inside me froze. The Neuschwanstein Castle—that fairy-tale fortress tucked high in the Bavarian Alps, the one that inspired the stories of princesses and magic and dreams. A place where people from all over the world traveled just to stand before it, marveling at its splendor. But for Kyle to change his entire travel itinerary, just to see that? I couldn’t wrap my head around it. The absurdity of it hit me like a bucket of cold water, splashing over everything I thought I knew.

“You came all the way here just for a castle?” I asked, my voice thick with disbelief. I couldn’t help it, the words tumbled out before I could stop them. 

But even as I spoke, something strange and fluttery stirred in my stomach, an odd mixture of wonder and something deeper, something unfamiliar. And I hated myself for it.

“Yep,” Kyle confirmed. “I was reading about it in a magazine at the airport, and something about it just... clicked. It spoke to me, you know? So I canceled my flight, changed everything, and here I am.” He shrugged as though it was the most ordinary thing in the world, like rearranging travel plans at the drop of a hat was just part of his day-to-day life.

I blinked, the absurdity of it still making my head spin. “I’m not sure whether to be impressed or to question your life choices.”

The words had left my mouth before I even realized what I’d said, and a nervous laugh escaped me, quickly swallowed by the lump that had formed in my throat. There was a tightness there, a pressure I hadn’t been able to shake for hours. I was barely holding it together, and it felt like any second I might crumble.

Do not cry in the lobby, Ashley. Do not break down here. Not now.

He chuckled, his eyes crinkling at the corners. “Hey, I’m a man of adventure. Some people collect stamps; I collect castles.”

I blinked, trying to wrap my mind around what had just transpired. But before I could find the words, my stomach did a strange flip, and I felt that fluttering, unexpected sensation again. “Are you staying at this hotel?”

Kyle took a step closer, his eyes still locked on mine. “Depends,” he said, his tone suddenly soft, the playfulness fading. “Do you want me to?”

A tiny part of me screamed to say no. To run up to my room, lock the door, and escape from everything—everything, especially him. I could hide away until the funeral was over, pretend none of this had happened, and leave this behind like a bad dream. But the truth was, I was so tired. So tired of running from myself, from everything I felt, from the ache in my chest. Tired of pretending I was fine when I wasn’t. Tired pretending everything was okay when I struggled just to keep my head above water.

It was okay to reach for a life raft, no matter what form it came in. 

Even if it was Kyle Blackwood, of all people, was offering that.

I took a deep breath, dipped my head in a small nod, and without trusting myself to say anything else, I gave him my silent answer.

His face softened, and without hesitation, he stepped forward, his arms opening as if he’d been waiting for this moment all along.

“Come here, Freckles,” he whispered.

And that was all I needed. I hated him. He hurt me. We were divorced, for god's sake. But all those reasons—those reasons that had lived at the back of my mind—melted away in the warmth of his embrace.

I flew to him, desperate, and buried my face in his chest. His arms enveloped me, strong and steady, and for a fleeting moment, I let go of everything. His skin smelled like soap and citrus, and his sweatshirt was soft against my cheek, providing an unexpected comfort I wasn’t prepared for.

The curious stares of the receptionist and other hotel guests burned into the back of my neck, their eyes no doubt following our every move. I was sure we’d be the subject of whispers by morning, but at that moment, I didn’t care.

For the first time since I landed in Germany, I could breathe.