Page 9

Max

I hadn’t meant to get involved with her.

That was the truth I didn’t say out loud—not to Frasier, not to myself, and definitely not to Tessa. But there it was, staring me in the face the second I walked back into my home after she left for school.

The place felt too quiet without her.

And I hated that.

She’d been here all of two weeks, and already the air felt different when she wasn’t in the room. Like she’d brought light into corners I’d left untouched.

I made another cup of coffee I didn’t need and sat at the kitchen table, staring at the half-eaten muffin she’d left behind. Boris’s hair was still on the couch. Her hoodie— my hoodie now claimed by her—was slung across the chair she’d curled up in last night.

It was stupid.

It was dangerous.

Because I liked her. A lot more than I should.

And I knew— I knew —she was starting to feel the same way.

But I wasn’t the guy who could give her what she needed. Not now. Maybe not ever. Not with my feelings for Olivia still in my heart. It wouldn’t be fair to let her think we could be something I would never be ready for.

I closed my eyes and leaned back in the chair, the old wood creaking under the weight of everything I didn’t want to feel.

Olivia.

Even after all this time, her name still hit like a punch to the chest.

I loved her. I thought she was it. The girl, the future, the forever. But when I went missing overseas—trapped in a village halfway across the world for three years, with no word home—she’d thought I was dead.

She mourned me. Buried me.

And then she moved on.

She married someone else. Had a baby. Built a life that didn’t include me.

And when I came back—torn, broken, haunted—she cried. Told me she still loved me. But that she’d made a choice. That her husband was good to her. That her daughter didn’t deserve to be pulled into a love story that had already ended.

So I walked away because I loved her enough to let her go.

But that love left something hollow in me.

And now?

Now there’s Tessa.

This wild, brilliant, messy woman with her pink lotion arms and goat-rescuing heart. She walked into my life like she was born for it—made me laugh, made me feel again.

And I don’t know what to do with that.

I told myself I wasn’t ready. That I couldn’t risk it. Couldn’t go through the pain again of loving someone who might leave. But every time she smiles at me, every time she says my name like it matters…

I forget all the reasons I was supposed to stay guarded.

I gripped the coffee mug tighter, jaw clenched. I needed to tell her the truth. Soon. Before this went any further. Before she looked at me with hope in her eyes, and I didn’t have the strength to walk away.

But hell, part of me already knew—

I didn’t want to walk away.

I found Frasier where he always went when he needed quiet. He was working on motorcycles. His hands were taking apart a Harley Davidson engine. He didn’t look up when I walked over. Just said, “You’re brooding.”

“I’m not brooding.”

“You’re always brooding when your boots crunch like that. Heavy. Mad. Like you’re dragging something behind you.”

I folded my arms and leaned against the post next to him. “I didn’t come to talk.”

“Good. I don’t want to listen.”

We stood in silence for a beat.

Then I said, “I think I’m falling for her.”

Frasier’s hand stilled for a moment before starting back to work.

“Tessa?”

“Yeah.”

He nodded once, like he’d known before I did. “That a problem?”

“I told myself I wouldn’t let it happen ever again.”

“But it did.”

I let out a long breath and looked out over the ridge. “She’s not just funny and smart. She’s… real. She doesn’t try to be anything she’s not. She tells you when she’s scared. Laughs at her own disasters. And she’s got this way of making everything feel like it’s okay, even when it’s not.”

“She sounds awful,” Frasier said dryly.

I shot him a look, but there was no judgment in his eyes. Just patience. And maybe a little worry.

“I thought I’d moved on from Olivia,” I admitted. “I thought time would fix it, but maybe I didn’t give it enough time. Or maybe I’m just broken in places that don’t heal.”

Frasier didn’t say anything right away. He just wiped his hands clean for more minutes than it should have, and finally looked over at me.

“You’re not broken, Max. You’re hurt. There’s a difference. Your hurt because the woman you were engaged to marry, fell in love with someone else when you were missing. But have you ever put the time schedule together?”

“What are you talking about?” I asked, confused.

“You were missing for three years, Olivia had a baby that takes nine months, the baby was sixteen months, that’s twenty-five months. She must had dated her husband at least six months before she married him, that’s thirty one months so she grieved for you for six months before she started dating.”

“Open your eyes, Max. Your love for Olivia was stronger than hers was for you, or she would have grieved for you longer than six months.

I swallowed hard. Why did I think she grieved for me for three years? I must have been blind. God, I was a jerk. Do I still love her? I don’t know if I do or not. Until I know it’s not fair to Tessa. If I can’t give her something real… if I pull her in just to push her away—”

“Then tell her,” he cut in, voice calm but firm. “But don’t lie to yourself about what this is. You already let her in. You think you’re protecting her by staying guarded, but that girl is smart. She’ll feel it if you start backing off. And it’ll hurt worse than the truth.”

I dragged a hand down my face. “She deserves someone better.”

“She deserves someone who’s honest. Who shows up. Who doesn’t make her question her worth.”

I looked away, jaw tight. “What if I can’t be that guy?”

Frasier let out a slow sigh. “Then you better figure it out soon, before you lose the best thing that’s come along in a long damn time.”

His words hit hard. What did I know about love. I loved someone who only grieved me for Six months if that long. Damn I was stupid.

But the thought of Tessa walking away because I was too scared to love her back, scared the hell out of me.

Frasier stood and clapped a hand on my shoulder. “Go to her. And whatever you say—make it the truth.”

“You can also tell her we got the bees out of her cabin, and I hired some women to clean it for her. Tomorrow, we are returning the furniture so she can move in before her father and brother visit.”

“I’ll talk to her tonight. I'll talk to you later. I have a 1966 Chevy truck to work on.”

“How is that coming?”

“Good, I’m almost finished.”

“Max, don’t overthink this. You might lose something that you’ll never get back.”

“I know. I’ll take it slow.”