Page 166 of Chasing Hope

I hear the lock turn, the door creaking open a moment later, followed by a young officer’s gentle voice asking, “Are you Mr. Hucklbee?”

“Yes, that’s me.”

Before the officers capture his attention fully, I say, “You’re in good hands, Mr. Hucklbee. Thank you for speaking with me.”

“Bye, Louise. I love you, dear.”

“Bye, Mr. Hucklbee.”

Disconnecting the call, I take off my headset and sit back in my chair, feeling like a boulder is resting on my chest.

Angel comes to sit on my desk, cocking her head as she assesses me. “Heavy call?”

I weigh my head side to side. “Just sad is all. He was confused, thought I was his late wife. He was wondering why I wasn’t home to drive to the store with him.” My lips flatten. “Nearly ninety and a war veteran.”

She whistles low. “Sad how your mind can betray you like that, just jumping from timeline to timeline.”

“It’s heartbreaking,” I add. Turning fully in my chair, I catch her gaze appearing far away. “Hey, are you okay?”

Angel’s lips purse, trying to keep the tears welling at bay. “I will be.”

“Want to talk about it?”

She pauses, thinking before slowly shaking her head. “Maybe later. It’s too fresh right now, and then I’ll start crying.”

“Fair enough.” Squeezing her knee, I give her a friendly smile. “Here if you need an ear.”

“Thanks, chickie.” Seemingly shaking off her melancholy, she pastes on a forced smile, trying to rid herself of the darkness coating her. “You clocking off now?”

“Yeah, I’m done for the day,” I say. “Off to my brother and Matteo’s game.”

Angel wags her brows. “And how is Mr. Six-Foot-Five Hockey God treating you?”

I was right, telling her about Matteo and me. As if fireworks went off in her eyes, she was so excited for our happiness, and myGoddid she ask questions. She wanted to knoweveryminute detail.

My cheeks heat, a furious blush crawling across my face as I pack up my bag. “He’s treating me well.”

More than well, he’s heaven-sent.

“By the blush on your face, he’s treating youexceptionallywell.” Craning her neck around the room to make sure no one’s listening, she bends down, whispering, “Slept with him yet?”

My eyes widen. “No, and stop asking me at work,” I scold her. “One of these days someone’s going to overhear you.”

She just waves me off as she flicks her bouncy, dirty blonde hair over her shoulder. “Please, as if I’d ever get caught. I’m as stealthy as a ninja.”

Scoffing out a laugh, I place my bag over my shoulder as I turn to leave. “Whatever makes you sleep better at night, Angel.”

Hopping off my desk, she follows me out, both of us smiling at those that we make eye contact with. I’ve never felt so at home at a job before, have never felt sorightdoing something. As if everything I’ve gone through was to lead me here, where I can actually help people and make a difference.

Pushing through the exit, Angel is gearing up to no doubtask me more about my sex life—and more so why I haven’t slept with Matteo yet—when we run into Tristan at the front of the building. For now, the questions brimming in her eyes float away.

“Thank God, save me from her inquisition,” I tease.

Angel gasps in mock horror, placing her manicured hand on her chest. “I’m offended.”

“Good, maybe it will keep your trap shut,” Tristan deadpans.

“Doubtful.”