Page 27 of Devlin (Lighthouse Security Investigations Montana #4)

Mia let out a slow breath, her heart thudding unevenly in her chest. The weight of the past ten years sat between them, thick and unmoving, but something was shifting, something she couldn’t quite put words to yet.

Devlin had always been solid and unwavering. Even now, with the raw confession of his regrets laid bare, he had a steadiness, a quiet certainty that made her pulse race in a way she wasn’t prepared for.

“What did you do to get help?” she finally asked.

He exhaled sharply, rubbing his hands over his jeans.

“I did what my captain ordered. I worked with Markowitz’s wife and kids, and made sure they had what they needed.

I contacted your parents and best friend, but they shut me down.

I leaned on my parents, and they wanted me to find you.

But when I tracked down one of your classmates, they told me you’d taken a full-time job in Haiti. So I let you go.”

"And other women? Other relationships? It's been ten years. How often have you been in love?" She wasn't sure why she asked those questions because she didn’t really want the answers. But the words were already out, and she could hardly pull them back in.

His lips pressed together, and for a moment, she wasn’t sure he would answer. Then he spoke, his voice raw. “Other women? Yeah. Not as many as you might think. Other relationships? No. Been in love?” He shook his head. “Not once. The longest anything lasted was a weekend.”

“Why?” she whispered.

He didn’t hesitate. “Because I never looked. I had the gift of the perfect woman for me. And I lost her. I knew there was no one else for me, my Mia. And I was willing to stay single for the rest of my life.”

She blinked, stunned. She had assumed he had moved on. Had found someone else. That he had been able to do what she hadn’t—find love again. But he hadn’t. And the revelation rocked her.

His gaze softened as he studied her reaction. “I guess that sounds strange to you, doesn’t it?”

Slowly, she shook her head. “No. Or rather, it sounds strangely familiar. I assumed I was destined only to have one love in my life, too.”

A spark ignited in his eyes, the first sign of hope she had seen all night. And suddenly, she realized she had given him something—an opening.

Her thoughts were a tangled mess, refusing to fall into any order. She squeezed her eyes shut for a second before meeting his gaze again. “Devlin… what do you want? What do you want from this? From me? Closure? If so, I guess we have that.”

He shook his head. “No. Seeing you again was like waking up from a ten-year-old, suck-ass dream that keeps playing on repeat and never gets better. I don’t expect you to jump into my arms. Hell, I’m lucky you haven’t decked me yet.

But I’ll take whatever you’re willing to give me.

If it’s just friendship, I’ll take it. We have so much history, but I want a future, Mia. Whatever that looks like—I’ll take it.”

Mia dropped her chin, offering a pointed glare. "You’ll only be here a few more days. You’ll finish your job and leave, and I'll still be here," she argued. "That's hardly time to figure anything out between us."

"Mia, honey, I've gone years without you in my life. And I've hated every fucking minute of not being with you. I want to be in your life somehow."

She snorted. "Pen pals?"

His lips quirked ever so slightly, but his eyes remained earnest and pleading. "If that's the best we can have, I'll take it. But it needs to start with me earning your forgiveness."

Silence stretched between them as she searched her heart.

The animosity she had clung to for so long was ebbing.

Truthfully, it had faded long ago, though she had never admitted it.

A heavy sigh left her lips. "I don't hate you, Jim. I did… or maybe that was just the heartbreak talking. But I don’t hate you.

If forgiveness is what you seek, you have it.

You meant the world to me. Moving past that emotionally took time, but my life went on. "

She had spent years learning to be whole on her own.

She had picked up the broken pieces and forged something new, something strong.

She shrugged, lifting her shoulders in a gesture of surrender.

"Maybe we were always meant to be apart for these past years.

Maybe that time apart let us grow into the people we were always meant to be. "

The words hung between them, and as she heard them aloud, she realized they rang true. They had both grown, becoming the people they had once dreamed of being.

"Maybe so," Devlin agreed. "But I'm grateful for your forgiveness. The way I ended us was wrong. It was fucked up, painful, and inexcusable. But I’m not that same person."

She nodded, believing him in a way she hadn't expected.

"So what happens now?" she asked, studying the man in front of her. He was no longer the man she remembered, but looking into his eyes, she could still see the teenager who had once shielded her from the police when she’d been strapped to the goalpost. A little smile curved her lips at the memory.

"We start new," he said, his voice edged with hope.

"New?" she echoed, her brows lifting.

"We had ten years of good, Mia. And now we’ve had ten years of pain, mistakes, hard work, career changes, and figuring out what matters. Then, against all fucking odds, we run into each other on the far side of the world."

"That’s scary,” she whispered, feeling more vulnerable than she had in a long time.

"I'm suggesting we start something new, knowing that all our decades from now on will be whatever we decide together they’ll be. And you’re right. It’s scary as hell. But that doesn’t make it wrong."

Silence stretched between them again, thick with possibility. She felt like she was standing on the edge of something massive, a decision that would determine whether she truly lived or simply continued existing. And, God, she wanted to live.

“Okay,” she murmured.

Devlin inhaled sharply, his eyes widening slightly. Before he could misinterpret her meaning, she quickly added, “We’re not the same people we were. Friends might be all we ever are. But like you said, I'd rather have you in my life than not.”

He reached for her hand, his fingers wrapping around hers, completely engulfing them. Warmth traveled up her arm, settling in her chest. Still holding her hand, he stood and gently pulled her to her feet.

“I'd like nothing more than to stay and keep talking all night,” he admitted. “But I can see the exhaustion on your face, and I never want to be the source of your pain again. So I’m going to say good night, but I ask for a promise from you.”

She tilted her head, peering up at him. “What promise?”

“Don't backpedal. Don’t talk yourself into thinking you were hasty by agreeing that we can work on becoming close again. Don’t overthink it. Just let it be, Mia. Sleep. Rest. And tomorrow, we can talk some more.”

It had been a long time since someone had cared for her like that. The words she might have spoken fell away, and she simply nodded.

He leaned in slightly, his massive body towering over her, and for a moment, she wondered if he would kiss her. Instead, his lips landed on her forehead. The warm, steady pressure made her eyes close, and the tension in her body ebbed away. When he pulled back, she missed his closeness.

He walked to the door, pausing just before stepping out. “Good night, my Mia.”

For the first time in years, the thought of those words didn’t make her chest ache.

It wasn’t long before she climbed into bed, fatigue pulling at every muscle.

But she reached over to grab her phone. She only hesitated for a moment, the urge to talk to someone who knew it all overpowering all other emotions.

“Hey, sweetie,” her mom greeted. Her voice was warm as always but now held a tinge of caution. “What’s going on?”

“He told me a little about what happened back then. Why he left,” she blurted, then paused before adding, “It wasn’t what I thought had happened. And… well… we’ve agreed to be friends.”

Her mother made a noncommittal noise, one Mia knew well. It was the skeptical hum of a mother who wasn’t buying what her daughter was selling.

“He broke your heart, Mia.” The words were gentle but firm. “You were devastated when he left. Now he’s just back, after what? Ten years? And you think friendship is going to be that easy?”

“No,” Mia said honestly. “But it’s…different now. We’re different.”

Her mother was quiet for a moment, then sighed again. “I always loved Jim. I always thought he was a good man. Until he hurt you.”

Mia’s throat tightened, but she pushed past the emotion. “I know.”

“Be careful, baby,” her mother warned. “I don’t want to see you hurting like that again.”

“I will,” Mia promised, and then, because she couldn’t help herself, she added, “But I can’t shake the feeling that maybe this is a good thing.”

“How so?”

“At the time, all I felt was hurt. But I moved on… lived my life my way on my terms. He did, too. And now, it’s like we’re two different people from who we were back then. Two people who still have a long history.”

Her mother huffed. “We’ll see. I just want you to be sure. To be careful. I don’t want your heart broken again.”

“I know, Mom. Me, too.” She picked at a thread on her blanket. “But I have discovered that I really want him in my life, however that looks.”

“I know you’ll take care of you, sweetie,” her mom said, resignation in her tone. Then a small chuckle sounded. “You know who’ll be thrilled about this?”

Mia already knew the answer. “His mom.”

“Of course. You know how much that woman loved you. If she finds out you two are even breathing the same air again, she’s liable to start planning a wedding.”

Mia laughed despite herself, shaking her head. “Let’s not get ahead of ourselves. Right now, we have to see if the past ten years overshadow everything from our first decade together.”

“I wish you only the best, but trust you to make the right decision for you.”

“I know. And that’s why you’re the best mom in the world, and I love you,” Mia declared, her heart lifting again.

With loving goodbyes, she tossed her phone to the side and slid under the covers. As she lay in bed, replaying the past hours in her head, her heart was strangely at peace.