Chapter 20 #2
"Oh, how lovely!" Mother clasps her hands like this is the best news she's heard all week. "You two will have such a wonderful time! Piper needs a proper vacation after all that... mountain nonsense."
Something inside me cracks.
Memories flood back—Chase standing in the airport, holding that ridiculous sign to welcome me back.
I remember his hands, gentle over mine, teaching me to use a compass in Wildflower Meadow, explaining about true north.
I recall the warmth of the fire he built, the way he wrapped me in blankets and shared the parts of his life that hurt, trusting me with his wounds the way I’d never trusted anyone with mine.
The crack widens.
Because the sharpest memory is Sunday morning at the airport. When he asked me to choose and I walked away because I was too afraid to choose myself.
"If you'll excuse me," I say quietly, squeezing my eyes to forget the hurt in Chase's. "I need some air."
I turn and walk toward the terrace doors, my boots solid beneath the silk, each step an act of rebellion no one can see.
Behind me, I hear Mother's sharp intake of breath and Maxwell's confused murmur as he comments about me being 'off' all night.
I don't care.
I burst through the doors, and thankfully, the terrace is completely empty. I move straight to the rails and hold on tight, the wind whipping across me as the Chicago skyline glitters against the night sky.
I grip the railing and breathe. In for six, out for four. Just like Chase taught me.
What am I doing here?
Why did I come back?
Why did I choose this instead of him?
My phone buzzes in the tiny clutch I'm carrying. I pull it out.
Brooke: How's the gala?
I stare at the message. It was sent an hour ago. I start typing back.
Me: Exactly as awful as expected. Maxwell just assumed we're getting married.
Three dots appear immediately.
Brooke: OMG! Get out of there!!!
Me: I can't just leave. Mother would never forgive me. I'm wearing the boots though. No one knows and it's the only thing keeping me sane.
Brooke: See! You can leave! You're wearing hiking boots to a black-tie gala, Piper. You're already halfway to rebellion. Just take the next step! We're all cheering for you!
A photo pops up on the screen, and for a second, my breath catches.
It’s the crew at Timber Tavern, crowded into one of those leather booths that’s definitely too small for mountain people.
Brooke’s grinning beside Jamie, who’s holding up a beer like he’s toasting the camera.
Beau looks like someone dragged him there against his will, but Molly’s tucked into his side, laughing.
And Knox—oh my God, Knox is wearing Etta’s cat-eye glasses!
Striking a pose so ridiculous it makes me snort out loud.
Travis, of course, is mid-eye-roll, but even he’s smiling.
It’s perfect.
Almost.
Because one face is missing.
My thumb hovers over the screen, zooming in like maybe I missed him. Maybe Chase is lurking in the background, near the bar or the dartboard. But he’s not.
I hope he’s okay.
The wind bites against my bare shoulders, but I don’t move. I stare at the message, biting my lip as I contemplate my entire life.
Just take the next step.
I'm about to respond with my own selfie when I hear heavy footsteps behind me.
"There you are."
I turn, expecting Maxwell or Mother or another society drone ready to pull me back into the performance.
Instead, I see him.
"Chase?"
He's standing in the terrace doorway wearing a tuxedo. A freaking tuxedo!
It's such an odd sight that I have to blink a few times to make sure I haven't had one too many champagnes.
The suit fits him like it was made for someone slightly broader in the shoulders, but somehow, that makes him look even more devastating.
His sandy brown hair is scruffier than usual, like he hasn't brushed it all week.
His hazel eyes find mine across the balcony, and there—tucked into his breast pocket where a perfectly white pocket square should be—is a small packet of gummy bears.
"Chase?" My voice comes out broken, tears pricking my eyes. "What are you—how did you—"
He crosses the terrace and pulls me into his arms. "Fuck, I missed you, baby."
I bury my face in his shoulder and breathe him in—pure mountain air and home.
"You came," I whisper against his neck. "You came… what the hell are you doing here?!"
His pulls back and holds my face with two hands, like he can't believe it either. "Of course I came. You think I was going to let you face this alone?"
I pull back to take him in from head to toe. "You're wearing a tux."
"Jamie's tux, actually. It's a little tight in the shoulders.
" He grins, and it's so genuine, so him, that I want to cry.
"And before you ask, yes, I drove nine hours to crash your fancy gala.
Yes, Charlie packed me snacks. Yes, your doorman tried to stop me until I told him I was here for Piper Whitman and I wasn't leaving until I saw you. "
"You told the doorman—"
"I told everyone. Valet guy, coat check lady, three different people in the lobby.
" His hands frame my face. "I don't care who knows, Piper.
I love you. I should have said it a week ago, a month ago, the first time you climbed my fire escape in a designer dress.
I love you, and I'm done pretending this is casual or temporary or anything other than what it is. "
My mouth opens, but before I can respond, my brain catches up.
"Wait." I pull back, studying his face. "It took you nine hours to drive here?"
A flicker of sheepishness crosses his features.
"Stone River is a two-hour flight," I continue, narrowing my eyes. "Or a five… maybe six hour drive. Tops. What happened?"
He clears his throat, glancing away toward the Chicago skyline.
"Chase Morrison, what did you do?"
"Okay, so." He runs a hand through his hair, messing it even more. "Promise you won't tell Knox and Travis? Or Jamie? Or literally anyone back home? Because I will never hear the end of it."
"Oh my god." A laugh bubbles up despite the music starting back up inside. "What happened?"
"I may have… taken a wrong turn. Near the border." He says it fast, like ripping off a bandage. "In my defense, the GPS kept cutting out, and there was construction, and then I ended up in this tiny town, and—"
"You got lost."
"I got geographically confused," he corrects. "For about three hours."
I have to cover my laugh, because this is all so ridiculous. Him being here, him telling this story… Him being him.
"I drove in a complete circle at one point. Passed the same gas station twice. The attendant recognized me the second time and waved me down to give me directions."
I press my hand to my mouth, still trying not to laugh.
He pulls me closer, grinning now. "So yeah. Nine hours. But I'm here. And if you breathe a word of this to anyone—"
"Your secret's safe with me." I cup his face, overwhelmed by the fact that this man drove nine hours—and got hopelessly lost—all to be here with me. "Would it make you feel better if I told you a secret?"
Chase nods. "Absolutely."
"I'm wearing the boots."
"What?"
I lift the front of my gown, revealing the teal-laced hiking boots beneath all that silk.
Chase's laugh is pure joy and he drops to his knees like he can't believe his eyes. "You wore hiking boots to a society gala?!"
"No one knows. Yet." I drop the fabric. "It's my secret rebellion."
"Not anymore." He kisses me, deep and claiming and completely inappropriate for a public terrace at a charity event, and I don't care.
When we break apart, I take his hands and stare into those gorgeous eyes I've missed too much this week.
"I'm sorry," I whisper. "For choosing the gala. For not choosing you. For being too afraid to—"
"Stop." He reaches up and his thumb brushes my cheek. "I'm sorry for making you feel like you had to choose between your family and me. You shouldn't have to choose, Piper. You should get to have both."
"Maybe. But my mother will never accept us."
"Then she'll have to learn." His jaw sets in that stubborn way I love. "Because I'm not going anywhere. And neither are you. Unless you want to…"
I nudge him with my elbow, looking cheekily up at him. "Well, that depends. Are you driving? Because I can't get lost in the desert, Chase. I'm too pretty for that."
Chase mocks a shocked expression, but somewhere behind us, the terrace doors open and rip the moment right in two.
"Piper Elizabeth Whitman, what on earth do you think you're—"
Mom stops dead, a hand going instantly to her mouth, covering the audible gasp she makes when she sees Chase standing hand in hand with me. Father appears behind her, followed by Maxwell, whose eyes catch our linked hands.
I feel Chase tense beside me, but I don't let go.
"Mother. Father." My voice is steady. "I'd like you to meet Chase Morrison. He's a search and rescue specialist from Stone River Mountain. He just drove five hours to be here tonight."
I look at Chase and wink, taking in his rumpled tux and his gummy bear pocket square and his kind eyes that see every messy, imperfect part of me and love me anyway.
"He's also the man I'm in love with."
Mom's face goes white. Father's expression doesn't change, but his gaze sharpens as Maxwell makes a sound like he's been punched.
And Chase—
Chase just looks at me like I just handed him everything he's ever wanted.