Chapter twenty-two
Bryan
The morning light spills through the kitchen window, stretching across the counter like liquid gold. The coffee machine hums, filling the air with its familiar scent, and Buddy’s tail windmills against the floor as he watches me with expectant eyes.
I barely register any of it. Because right now, all I can think about is the small velvet box burning a hole in my pocket.
I turn it over between my fingers, my pulse ticking up a notch. It’s not an extravagant gift, nothing flashy or overdone. Just something that reminded me of her.
A silver necklace. A daisy pendant. Our flower.
I exhale, bracing myself as I hear her footsteps padding down the stairs. A second later, Emma appears in the doorway, stretching with a yawn, still sleepy, still stunning. Her sweater hangs off one shoulder, hair loose from sleep, and she rubs at her eyes before giving me a soft, sleepy smile.
“Morning.”
Her voice is hushed, familiar. A warmth spreads through my chest, something unshakable, something I don’t want to lose.
She moves toward the counter, reaching for a mug, when I catch her wrist gently, stopping her. “Hold up. Got something for you.”
Emma blinks, then tilts her head, curious. “More?” I nod, pulling out the small box and placing it in her palm. She stares at it for a second, as if trying to process the weight of it. Then, carefully, she lifts the lid.
Her breath catches. “Oh, Bryan…”
It’s barely above a whisper, but it hits me hard. She brushes her fingers over the pendant, the delicate silver daisy resting against the velvet. Something flickers in her expression, something soft, something raw.
Emma exhales a small, shaky laugh, then meets my gaze. Her eyes shine, bright and warm, pulling me in like they always do. She turns slightly, gathering her hair over one shoulder, an unspoken invitation.
I step behind her, undoing the clasp. My fingers graze her neck as I fasten it, and the moment stretches, too close, too much. Her breath shudders, just a little, as the metal settles against her collarbone.
She touches it gently. “It’s beautiful.” I clear my throat, stepping back, suddenly feeling way too exposed. “Thought you’d like it.”
She turns, smiling up at me. “I love it.”
And just like that, everything feels right. Emma takes a sip of coffee, still toying with the pendant. “I’ve been thinking about something.” I watch her over my own mug. “Yeah?”
She exhales, setting her cup down. “The name for the clinic. I was thinking… Gracie’s Animal Haven.” My brows lift. “After grandma?”
She nods. “It feels right. She was the reason I came back. The reason we… well, everything.” She hesitates, then shrugs, “It just makes sense.”
For a moment, I just look at her. Because darned if that doesn’t feel just right. “I love it.” Her shoulders relax, as if she was waiting for my approval. “Yeah?”
I nod, dead serious. “She’d be proud of you, Em.”
Something flickers behind her eyes, something unspoken, and then she steps forward. Just one step, small, hesitant but I feel it. She reaches out, fingers brushing my wrist.
“Thank you. For everything.”
I almost say something. Almost. But before I can, she pulls away, taking another sip of coffee.
“I’ve got clinic arrangements today. Paperwork, supplies, all of that. Stella’s meeting me later.”
I nod, shifting, needing to focus on something other than how badly I want to kiss her again. “Sounds good. Let me know if you need anything.” Emma smiles, squeezing my arm just for a second before heading toward the door. “See you later, Bry.”
She leaves, the scent of lavender and coffee lingering in the air. I stand in the kitchen for a long moment, staring at the empty space she left behind.
I’m deep. Too deep. And then, reality crashes in.
I sigh, dragging a hand through my hair as I head to my office, flipping open my laptop. Emails flood the screen. A reminder from Coleman Financial, numbers blaring in bold.
And then, my stomach sinks. Three months. Almost up. And Emma…
I stare at the screen, at the deadlines, at the reality of what’s coming, and my grip tightens around my coffee mug. I don’t want her gone.
The thought hits me so hard it nearly knocks the breath from my lungs. I can’t lose this. Lose her. Not again. But how do I tell her that?
I close my laptop, rubbing a hand over my jaw, staring at the necklace box still sitting on the desk. Time’s running out.
And for the first time in years, I don’t have a darn clue what to do next.
***
The late afternoon sun casts long shadows across the backyard, the breeze rolling in thick with the scent of the ocean. Buddy sits beside me, head resting on his paws, while Liam lounges back in a chair, beer in hand, a knowing smirk plastered on his face. He came to talk to me about an account he wants me to work on.
Emma’s in town with Stella, which means the house is eerily quiet. Too quiet. It's been hours since she left, and it feels like more. I miss her already.
I take another sip of my beer, staring out at the waves. “So,” he starts, dragging out the word. “Have you sorted things out?”
I don’t look at him. “What things?”
He lets out a low chuckle, shaking his head. “Come on, man. You know exactly what I’m talking about.”
I sigh, rubbing a hand over my face. “If this is about Emma…”
“It is about Emma,” Liam interrupts, setting his beer down. “And the fact that in exactly two days, your little ‘three months’ deal is up.”
I stiffen but keep my face impassive. He is right. I dread this ending because I don't know what it means for us.
Liam smirks, clearly enjoying this too much. “What’s the plan? Gonna keep pretending you’re not completely gone for her?”
I scoff, rolling the bottle between my fingers. “You’re ridiculous.”
“Am I?” He tilts his head. “Because from what I hear, people keep seeing you two together around town. And I don’t think you’re just being friendly.”
I shake my head. “I don't know what you're talking about.” Liam snorts. “Right. What about paying off all her debts without telling her?”
I freeze. My grip tightens around the beer bottle, and I finally turn to him. “How do you know about that?”
Liam leans back, smug. “I was the one who helped you investigate her debts in the first place, remember? I know exactly what you did.”
I grind my jaw, forcing myself to keep my expression neutral. “I'm just trying to help. I mean, making her happy is the least I can do.”
"So let me get this straight, you are doing everything you've been doing because you pity her,"
I don't answer him because he knows it's not that. Liam watches me for a beat, then lets out a low whistle. “Man. You really are in deep.”
I glare at him. “She’s been through enough, Liam. She didn’t deserve to face all she did.”
Liam just shakes his head, laughing under his breath. “You really think I’m buying this? That you paid off her debts and that you've been around town acting all lovey because you feel pity for her.”
“I was just…you know …”
“What? Being nice?” Liam lifts a brow. “Dude, you don’t do everything you’ve been doing because you’re being nice. You did it because you love her.”
I go silent. The words hit like a gut punch, like something I already know but haven’t let myself admit.
Liam sees it too. “Yeah,” he mutters. “That’s what I thought.”
I shake my head, exhaling sharply. “It’s complicated.”
“No, it’s not,” Liam counters. “It’s really simple, dummy. You love her. And you’re scared.”
I swallow hard, staring at the waves. Because he’s right.
I am scared. Scared that no matter how much I love her, it won’t be enough to make her stay. Scared that if I let myself believe this is real, she’ll slip through my fingers all over again.
Liam sighs, running a hand through his hair. “Look, I get it. She left once. And it messed you up.”
I clench my jaw. “You have no idea.” “I do,” he says simply. “Remember Bryan, I was there, and I’ve always been here for you. And I get why you’re hesitating. But let me ask you something, Bryan. Does keeping her at arm’s length make you feel better?”
I don’t answer. Because no. No, it doesn’t. Liam leans forward, resting his elbows on his knees. “You think you’re protecting yourself, but all you’re doing is screwing this up before it even has a chance.”
I let out a slow breath, my chest tight. Liam shakes his head. “You can lie to yourself all you want. But at the end of the day, everything you’ve done? You’re not just helping her, Bryan.”
He pauses, then says it. The truth I don’t want to face. “You’re in love with her. And you have been for a long darn time.”
I press my lips together, my throat dry. Because yeah. I am. And suddenly, I don’t know why I’ve been fighting it.
The sound of Liam’s truck fades into the distance some minutes later, but his words still ring in my ears. You’re in love with her. And you have been for a long darn time.
I scrub a hand down my face, exhaling hard. He’s right. I know it, deep in my bones. There’s no use fighting it anymore.
I need to tell her. I HAVE to tell her .
But as I step back into the house, something feels… off. Buddy isn’t by the door to greet me. Instead, there’s the sound of movement hurried, rushed coming from upstairs. My stomach clenches.
I take the stairs two at a time, pulse kicking up. The second I step into the doorway of her room, I freeze. Emma is standing by the bed, packing.
A half-zipped duffel bag sits open, clothes hastily thrown inside. She moves frantically, stuffing a sweater in, then a pair of jeans, her fingers shaking.
“Emma?” My voice comes out rough, uncertain.
She doesn’t look at me. Doesn’t even hesitate. I step forward. “What are you doing?”
She keeps packing, her movements sharp. “Leaving.”
The word slams into me like a punch to the gut. I frown, stepping closer. “What? Why?”
She laughs, but there’s no humor in it. Just something brittle, broken. “You don’t have to pretend, Bryan. I heard you.”
My breath catches. “Heard what?”
Finally, she looks up. And the pain in her eyes knocks the air from my lungs. She swallows hard, jaw clenched. “Your conversation with Liam.”
Everything inside me goes cold. Oh no.
She turns back to the bag, stuffing in another shirt. “I get it now,” she mutters, voice tight. “The past few weeks? They were just you playing hero. The great Bryan Lawson swooping in to fix my pathetic little life.”
“Emma, no…”
She lets out a shaky breath, hands gripping the edge of the bag. “You cleared my debts. Made sure I was taken care of. Made me feel things. Must feel really good, huh? Playing with my feelings like that huh?”
Her voice cracks on the last word, and it just guts me.
“That’s not what this is.” My voice is firm, desperate. “Emma, please, just listen,”
She shakes her head violently. “I am not your charity case, Bryan!”
Her voice rises, her breath coming fast and uneven. I can see it, the storm brewing inside her, the way she’s fighting not to break right in front of me.
I take a step closer, reaching for her. “I never saw you that way.”
She flinches back. “I don't think so.”
I stop cold. Her eyes flash. “I can't believe you, Bryan. All these weeks they meant nothing. Why on earth did you remind me of things when I'm just some project to you? Why didn't you tell me about paying off my debts? It was because I was a pity project to you!”
I open my mouth, but nothing comes out. Because the truth? I didn’t tell her. It was not because I saw her as some problem to fix, but because I didn’t want her to feel obligated. Because I didn’t want her to push me away.
But looking at her now, at the way she’s crumbling right in front of me, I realize I already lost her.
She shakes her head, scoffing. “Right. That’s what I thought.”
“Emma, please.” My voice is hoarse now. I step closer again, hands open, pleading. “The past few weeks meant everything to me. You mean everything to me.”
She looks at me then, really looks, and for the briefest second, I think, hope…that she might believe me. But then her expression hardens.
She turns back to the bag, zipping it up in one swift motion. “I’ll pay you back,” she says, voice eerily calm. “Every cent.”
“Emma…”
She yanks the bag off the bed and strides past me, her shoulder brushing mine. I twist, following her as she heads for the stairs.
“Emma, don’t do this,” I beg. My chest feels like it’s caving in.
She doesn’t stop. Doesn’t look back. Buddy whines from the corner, ears pinned back, watching her like he knows something’s wrong.
She reaches the front door. Hand on the knob. I can’t let her go. I step forward, desperate. “Emma, please.”
Her shoulders tense. For half a second, she hesitates. Then she pulls the door open, steps out, and lets it slam shut behind her. Leaving me standing there, hands clenched, heart pounding.
Gone. Again.
***
It’s been two days since she left. Forty-eight hours. Two thousand, eight hundred, and eighty minutes. And every single one has been horrible.
I can’t think straight. Can’t focus. Every time I close my eyes, I see her walking out that door, hear the finality of it slamming behind her. I wake up expecting to hear her moving around the house, brewing coffee, humming under her breath. But there’s nothing. Just silence. The house feels wrong without her.
Buddy keeps pacing the living room, ears twitching at every little noise, waiting for her to come back. He whines by the door sometimes, as if he thinks she’s just running late. I get it, because I’ve been doing the same thing.
I thought maybe, just maybe she just needed time to cool off … that I’d wake up, and she’d be back, and we’d talk this through like we should’ve in the first place.
But she’s not coming back. Not unless I do something.
I slam my hands against the kitchen counter, jaw clenched, frustration boiling in my veins. I messed up. Not by paying off her debts, that was never about pity. I’d do it again in a heartbeat if it meant taking even a fraction of the weight off her shoulders.
No, my mistake was not telling her. My mistake was letting my fear, fear of losing her, fear of wanting too much get in the way of the truth.
And now? Now she thinks she meant nothing to me. That the past few weeks were some kind of favor. I let her believe I didn’t love her. And that?
A knock at the door yanks me out of my thoughts. I don’t have the patience for company, but when I swing the door open and see Nate standing there, smug, arms crossed. I let out a heavy breath and step aside to let him in.
“Figured you’d be sulking,” he says, dropping onto the couch like he owns the place. “Looks like I was right.”
I scowl and growl. “What do you want?”
He shrugs. “Just checking in. You know, since you look like you've been hit by a truck.
Liam says you haven't been answering your calls.”
I roll my eyes, moving to the fridge and grabbing a beer. I pop the cap, but it just sits in my hand, untouched.
Nate watches me for a beat, then leans forward. “So? You gonna tell me what's up with you?”
I exhale sharply, raking a hand through my hair. “She thought I’ve been acting different with her because I pity her, and that my feelings aren't genuine…” My voice trails off.
Nate whistles low. “Oh no.”
“Yeah.” I take a slow sip, the beer bitter on my tongue. “She wouldn’t even let me explain. Just packed her bags and left.”
“And you let her?”
I blink, frowning. “What on earth was I supposed to do? She wouldn’t listen.” Nate shakes his head, laughing under his breath. “Man. You really don’t get it, do you?”
My jaw clenches. “Get what?”
He leans forward, elbows on his knees. “You let her walk away. Again.”
I stiffen. “You didn’t fight for her before,” Nate continues. “And look where it got you. You let your fear and your pride get in the way. And guess what? You’re doing the same thing now.”
My grip tightens around the bottle. “That’s not…”
“You love her.” His voice is steady, certain. “So why on earth are you sitting here instead of proving it to her?”
I don’t answer. I can’t. Because I know he’s right.
I scrub a hand down my face, exhaling hard. “She’s convinced I don’t care. That everything I did was just to make myself feel better.”
“Then make her believe otherwise.” I glance at him. He shrugs. “You want her back? Prove it.”
The words settle deep in my chest, pushing past the doubt, past the fear that’s been gnawing at me for years. I do love her. And I’ll be darned if I lose her again. I set the beer down with a thud and push off the counter. “I need to fix this.”
Nate grins, standing. “Now we’re talking.”
I pace the room, my mind racing. “I need to show her.”
And then it hits me. I know exactly what I have to do. I grab my keys, determination settling in my bones. This time, I won’t let her walk away.
Not without a fight.