Page 93 of Curvy Cabin Fever

“I’ll go back to New York,” Morgan adds, squeezing my hand. “Put in my notice at the gym, shut everything down. I can work remote, train clients online. I’ll be back in a month, maybe less.” His certainty is staggering, the casual way he’s willing to uproot his entire life.

“Price can run things while I restructure,” Rhett explains, mentioning his assistant. “I’m already remote most days, anyway. I’ll start the transition. Step by step.” His voice holds the careful planning of someone who’s thought through every angle, every potential obstacle.

I stare at them, heart pounding so loud I can barely think. They’ve worked it all out, planned a future that includes me, includes all of us together. “And then what?” I whisper, afraid to believe it could be this simple.

Rhett steps closer, close enough that I can smell his cologne. “Then we come back. For good.”

“To live here?” I ask, needing to be certain, needing to hear them say exactly what they mean.

They all nod.

Morgan grins, a smile that lights up his entire face, the one that made me trust him from the beginning. “We’ll live here full time. All of us. You, me, Rhett, and Damien.” He says it like it’s the most natural thing in the world, like four people building a life together isn’t something that defies every convention.

“And the baby,” Damien mutters under his breath, too low for the others to hear, a secret smile playing at the corner of his mouth.

I blink with surprise. “What?”

He smirks, brushes past me, and grabs a muffin from the counter. “Nothing.” But there’s something in his eyes, something possessive and tender, that sends a shiver down my spine.

I look at them again, all three of them, standing there like they’ve never been more sure of anything. Three different men who somehow fit together, who somehow all fit with me. And something breaks open inside me.

Something I didn’t even know I’d been holding back.

I laugh breathlessly—I’m a little overwhelmed.

And then I cry.

Right there, in the middle of the kitchen, in Morgan’s sweatshirt, with coffee going cold and snow still dripping from the eaves. Tears spill down my cheeks, not from sadness, but from the sheer enormity of what we’re choosing.

They come to me at once.

Three sets of arms encircle me.

Three hearts. Different rhythms, same intention.

One home. Ours.

“You’re really not gonna let me leave,” I whisper, the realization washing over me like sunrise after the longest night.

Damien tilts my chin up, his eyes intense. “We’ll drive you to return the car.”

Morgan kisses my cheek, catching a tear with his lips. “But you’re coming right back.”

Rhett wraps his arm tighter around my waist, solid and grounding. “This is our life now.”

I nod, tears still falling, but they don’t feel like grief anymore. They feel like a release. Like letting go of all the reasons I told myself this couldn’t work, all the fear that’s kept me isolated for so long.

And for the first time in my entire life, I’m not scared of what’s next.

Because I’m not facing it alone.

34

RHETT

Morgan finds me outside.

I’m splitting wood even though we don’t need it. The pile’s stacked so high that the shed barely closes, but my hands won’t stop moving. It’s either this or pace like a lunatic, and at least this way I’m being useful.