Page 43 of Knot Your Sunshine (Snugverse Romcom #2)

Chapter forty

Mia

My chest heaves as the door clicks shut behind me. Each breath comes ragged, like I've been running.

The trembling starts in my fingers, just a slight quiver at first. Then it spreads up my arms, into my shoulders, until my whole body shakes with leftover adrenaline.

I manage to make it to the bedroom before letting myself fall face-first onto the bed. The fabric muffles the sound that tears from my throat, half sob, half scream.

I couldn't bear seeing you worried.

Noa's words circle in my head like vultures. I press my palms against my ears but can't shut them out.

We were going to tell you everything.

My fingers twist into the pillowcase until the fabric strains. Right. On their schedule, if that's even true. After they'd decided what I could handle.

We were trying to protect you.

The pillow tears. A small rip where my nails have dug through, feathers peeking through the gap.

I flip onto my back, chest still heaving. The ceiling blurs as tears spill over, running hot trails down my temples. They taste like salt and disappointment when they reach my lips.

My body curls inward without permission, knees pulling to chest, arms wrapped tight. Making myself smaller, as if I could compress this hurt into something manageable.

My phone buzzes on the nightstand. I ignore it. Then it buzzes again.

Reluctantly, I reach for it. Missed calls from Grandma.

I check the time. 5:23 AM here means it's past 8 AM in Lakeview. She'll be at the salon, probably between clients.

My thumb hovers over her contact. I need to hear her voice. Need someone who's always believed in me, even when I didn't believe in myself.

The phone rings twice before her warm voice fills my ear.

"Sweet pea! Sorry I was so busy I couldn't call you back before now."

"Hi, Grandma." My voice cracks immediately.

"Oh honey, what's wrong? You sounded like you were floating on clouds in your message yesterday."

"A lot can change in twenty-four hours." I sit up, wiping my face with the back of my hand. "Franchise revenue results came in. They're... not good."

"Revenue? Is that what has you sounding like your world ended?"

"My locations are failing, Grandma. All of them. Thirty percent below the other franchises."

A pause. Then: "And?"

"And? And everything I've worked for is falling apart!"

"Mia Anne Everly." Her voice takes on that tone that used to make me straighten up as a child. "Numbers are just information. They don't define you or your dream. You know what you do with bad information?"

"What?" The word comes out small.

"You learn from it. You adjust. You fight harder. But you don't let it break you." I can hear her moving around. "Remember when I almost lost the salon twenty years ago? The numbers were terrible then too."

"That was different—"

"It wasn't. We looked at what wasn't working, changed it, and came back stronger. That's what Everly women do."

I take a shaky breath. "It's not just the numbers. The alphas... they hid things from me. Made decisions without me. They think I'm too fragile to handle my own business."

"And these are the same alphas who had you glowing yesterday?"

"Yes."

"Well then, you need to take a hard look at the situation. Either they made a mistake trying to protect you, misguided but well-intentioned, or they don't respect you as an equal. If it's the latter, I'd suggest you think hard about your future with them."

"But what do I do if it turns out they're not well-intentioned? They're my scent matches."

"Scent matches, alpha, beta… none of that matters, sweet pea.

What matters is finding your emotional match, or matches.

" She lets out a breath. "Never be desperate, Mia.

Love yourself enough to find the partners you deserve.

Whether it's these three or not, that's for you to determine.

But don't cling to the wrong people just because biology says you should. "

Something loosens in my chest. "Okay, Grandma…"

"Now tell me, are you going to let this break you, or make you stronger?"

I wipe my eyes, feeling something shift inside me. "I'm going to fight."

"There's my girl." Pride warms her voice. "Show them exactly how strong you are."

"Thank you, Grandma. I love you."

"I love you too, Pumpkin. So very much."

After we hang up, I stare at my laptop across the room, determined.

That consultant asshole says my franchises are the one bringing down the total revenue? The hell they are.

I stand, legs steady now, and walk to the desk. Opening my mailbox, I search for the email containing the link to access all the raw franchise data that Chad-dick sent a few days ago.

The document loads slowly. Inside: spreadsheets within spreadsheets. Raw data dumps of unfiltered numbers. Revenue streams broken down by hour, marketing costs itemized to the penny, customer acquisition metrics…

There's so much data, and to make things worse, it's completely unreadable.

I sigh and rub my temples. It's a deliberate maze. Gotta be. Designed to overwhelm anyone without an advanced degree in data analysis.

But too bad for that prick, I don't need a degree. I have something more powerful: the bone-deep need to prove every single one of them wrong.

I drag the chair closer, its wheels squeaking. The cushion sighs as I settle in, cracking my knuckles.

Line by line, I start dissecting their data. Looking for the story underneath.

My fingers fly across the keyboard. Formulas populate. Graphs generate. Patterns emerge from the chaos.

My eyes burn but I don't stop. My shoulders ache but I don't move.

Because Grandma's right. Everly women don't quit.

We rise up to a challenge. We fight.

And right now, I'm determined to save my dream my own damn self.