Page 32 of Checking Mr. Wrong (Love in Maple Falls #3)

The words hit me square in the chest, sharper than any hit I’ve ever taken on the ice. My jaw tightens, and I swallow hard, trying to keep my voice steady. “How do I convince you to stay?” The question comes out quieter than I intended, more of a plea than I’d like to admit.

“Don’t chase me through the airport the day I leave,” she says. Her tone is light, almost teasing, but there’s an edge to it.

I try to mirror her. “So, what you’re telling me is...no grand gestures?”

She gives me a faint smile, the kind that doesn’t reach her eyes but still manages to undo me. “If this were a rom-com, I’m sure you’d be planning something wild right about now. Maybe a flash mob or a big public declaration…”

“But it’s not a rom-com,” I finish for her, my chest tightening.

“No, it isn’t.” She leans in, pressing a soft kiss to my cheek, and I close my eyes, memorizing the feel of her. “No grand gestures needed. Just be you, okay?”

“That’s the grandest gesture I’ve got.”

She pauses, her lips curving slightly as she pulls back. “I know. That’s what makes this so hard.”

I want to pull her into my arms and beg her to stay, but one thing I’ve learned about this particular woman is that she is way too independent to fall for that move. I think if I did do that, it would be the equivalent of Maximum Strength Asher-repellant.

Instead, I keep my gaze as steady as I can. “This is kind of sad, isn’t it?”

“What’s that?”

“That I’ve come all the way to this place, to Maple Falls, to find someone who gives me this much peace only to have you leave.”

“Oh, stop. We’d have met eventually. At least, I’d like to think so.”

“Maybe.” I lean against the wall and watch as a couple of janitors stroll past, pushing mop buckets on their way to the arena. My thoughts suddenly dip back to the game earlier and how we got here. “You know, this is the first time in a long time I’ve fallen apart so publicly.”

“You need to do it more often,” she says, raking her fingers through my hair as she kisses my cheek. “I think they call it living an authentic life.”

I stare at the floor, feeling like every vulnerable nerve is open and on display to the world right now. “It’s the first time I’ve felt safe doing it.”

Mabel’s foot taps the top of mine, and I slowly drag my eyes up to meet hers.

When I do, I see her eyes shimmering with something between pride and tenderness.

Her lips curve into a soft smile, the kind that makes her look like she’s got a million thoughts spinning in her head but she’s only choosing to share the good ones.

“That’s because you are safe,” she says quietly. “And you’re allowed to be yourself now. No apologies. No explanations.”

Mabel’s hand slips from my hair, her fingertips brushing against my cheek before falling away entirely. The absence is immediate, like the warmth of her touch was the only thing holding me together.

She clears her throat and it feels like the air shifts between us. “We should go,” she says softly, but there’s hesitation in her voice. Like she’s waiting for me to stop her. To say something. Anything.

“Mabel…” Her name comes out like an exhale, like a prayer I don’t know how to finish.

She stops, her head tilting just enough for me to catch the faintest glint of a tear at the corner of her eye. It’s almost enough to break me. Almost.

“Please know, part of me doesn’t want to go,” she whispers, her voice cracking. “But New York…it’s everything I’ve worked for, Asher. You know that.”

I nod, because I do know. She’s told me a thousand stories about her life in the city. Her dreams. Her plans. But, at that time, none of them had me in them, at least not before now .

And now? Now, it feels like I’ve just started to learn how to breathe again and she’s taking the air with her.

I reach for her hand, curling my fingers around hers like it’s the only way to keep her here. “I don’t want you to go either,” I admit. The words are raw, stripped of all the defenses I usually keep up. “But I won’t be the reason you give up your dreams. I can’t be that guy.”

Her eyes search mine, and for a second, I let myself think she’s about to tell me she’ll stay. That she’ll trade skyscrapers for cold rinks and early morning practices. But instead, she presses her forehead to mine, her breath warm against my lips.

“You’re not the reason I’d stay,” she says, her voice trembling. “However, you are the reason it’s going to be hard to leave.”

My chest tightens, and I feel the sting behind my own eyes. I want to hold her here, keep her in this tiny bubble where it’s just us, no decisions or distances pulling us apart. But bubbles don’t last. They pop.

She steps back again, and all I can do is plaster on my smile, again, but she knows me now.

“Don’t do that,” Mabel says, pointing to my face.

“What?”

“That—smile when you’re not happy.” She cocks her head to one side. “No more covering, got it?”

“Fine, then.” I point to my lips, where there is still the shadow of a grin hanging out. “If I do this less, you have to do it more.”

“Please.” She laughs. As she starts to open her mouth to say something, we’re interrupted by a lone cough echoing down the hallway.

“Mabel, I’ve got your house keys.”

I peer over her shoulder to see Murray standing with Mary-Ellen, dangling a set of keys in the air.

“Give me a sec,” she says as she jogs toward them and away from me. I know at this moment, she’s coming back, but after this, when she isn’t ?

I don’t know how to do this—how to let her go when she’s the only thing that’s made me feel alive in years.

But I do know one thing. She’s wrong. I might be safe now. I might be allowed to be myself.

But without her? None of it feels real.