Chapter 19
Nineteen
Kingston
This morning, I observed a knee-replacement surgery for one of my clinical trials down in Los Angeles at Cedars-Sinai. It was a long day, and back on my plane flying home, I find myself tired after all the talking and peopling I had to do.
Even so, when I open my laptop and find an email from Elise, I instantly feel lighter.
I pause and take stock of that for a moment, waiting for the stab of worry I often feel when a woman gets too close, when her interest doesn’t match mine.
But that’s not the case here. I don’t even open her message right away.
I just sit for a second, smiling like an idiot because Elise thought of me before she went to bed.
When I click open the message, her words pull me in, and I reread them three times.
She’s worried, and not hiding it. I can feel her trust in the way she lays out her fears.
She believes I can hold them for her. That stirs something within me, something I surprisingly don’t reject, and hearing her concerns makes me proud of her, of the pride she takes in her work, and of the way she’s putting her whole self into this exchange.
There’s a depth here that I’d forgotten could be part of a relationship, a real connection to another person.
I ache with my desire to be there beside her as the worry edges in.
I type my response slowly, careful with my words.
You should tell Tarryn what you saw. Sabotage doesn’t just happen in Paradise—it happens everywhere. Maybe knowing that will ease her shoulders a little. She carries too much of this on her back, and if she knew this was part of the industry everywhere, maybe she wouldn’t blame herself so much.
I’m just leaving Los Angeles. I’ve been there today observing a clinical-trial surgery with a new knee-replacement device.
When I travel, I always miss Dottie’s omelets, especially her kitchen sink one.
You never know what you’re going to get with that thing, but it always tastes like home.
And Charlotte’s chocolates. I’ve tried to find replacements in the city, but nothing comes close.
What do you miss most right now? Food, people, places—whatever it is, I want to hear it.
Is there anything you’ve seen there that you’d want to try back at Paradise Hill? Some method or blend that’s caught your eye? I like picturing you in those caves and cellars, picking up things you can bring home. Makes the wait a little easier.
Because when I let myself think it through, I know my heart wants you here, in this valley.
Sixty-eight days until you’re back. I’m counting every one.
XO,
King
I hit send and sit staring at the screen, heart pounding. I’ve just handed her the most honest version of me I’ve handed anyone in quite a while.
But then the guilt of what I haven’t said creeps in, dragging my thoughts to the other part of my life, the one I’ve kept neatly compartmentalized.
My lawyer in Vancouver. We’ve had a little over four years of casual dinners, late-night visits, and enough physical chemistry to scratch an itch.
Nothing more, nothing less. That’s all I’ve been capable of and all I’ve wanted, or so I thought. Now, I see things differently.
But Hope is still hanging there. Untidy. She emailed a couple of days ago about paperwork, and I should close this loop. Make it clear. End things the right way. I pick up my phone and type out a message to her.
Me: Lunch tomorrow?
Her reply is quick.
Hope: I’ll be working from home. Can you come here?
I take a deep breath before I answer.
Me: Yes.
The flight to Vancouver the next morning is smooth, and the hum of the rotors steadies my nerves.
From up here, the city spreads out gray and glass against the water, busy and restless in a way Black Bear never is.
Over two hours later, I land at the helipad at the Renew Motion headquarters, and Dominic, my driver, is there waiting for me.
I think I have what I want to say sorted out. My decision feels heavy but clear. It’s a big step for me, but it feels like the one I want to take.
Dominic drives me over to Hope’s condo, and I’m nearly overwhelmed by all the people walking down the streets despite the rain. I haven’t been out into the city in a while. When we pull up in front of Hope’s building, I tell him I don’t expect to be long.
Hope buzzes me in and greets me at her door in a silk robe, her hair loose around her shoulders. She smiles, soft and expectant, and before I can think, she leans in to kiss me.
For a beat, I let it happen—because it’s habit, because it’s easier—but the feel of her lipstick only reminds me how wrong this is for me now. I pull back, my hands dropping to my sides.
Her brows lift in surprise, a question hanging there. “Rough day?”
I step past her into the condo. The room smells faintly of coffee and her perfume, ordinary things that suddenly feel too much. “Something like that.”
She closes the door and follows me into the living room. “I’ll pour you a drink. You’ll feel better once you relax.”
For a second, I almost consider her offer, but the words I want to say are pressing at the back of my throat, and I can’t swallow them a moment longer.
“I don’t think a drink is going to fix this.”
Her steps slow. “Fix what?”
I sit on the edge of her couch, staring out at the rain. This is the view she loves, the life she’s built here. None of it feels like what I want, and I don’t want to settle for this any longer. “The way things are between us. It’s easy, sure, but…it isn’t what I want anymore.”
Her laugh is small, confused, like I’ve told a bad joke. “What do you mean? We’re fine. We always are.”
I drag a hand through my hair, frustration and guilt tangling together. “We’re not, Hope. Not really. I should have said something sooner, but…this isn’t working for me.”
Her smile fades, like she’s only just realizing I mean this. “You’re serious.”
I nod. “This has been convenient for us. We’re workaholics, and this was easy. It made sense. But it doesn’t to me anymore.”
She folds her arms, as if she suddenly feels exposed. “If you’re looking for our relationship to change, I’m ready for that. We can move in together and make a go of it.”
I shake my head. “You love this city. I don’t. I don’t belong here. And you don’t want to live in Black Bear Valley.”
“I never meant that.” Her tone is sharper now, defensive, but underneath is the first edge of hurt. “I want us. We’re good together. We can make this work.”
I sigh. “That’s not the life I want. I don’t want something that only half fits. And I don’t want to keep pretending this is enough. Now, I know that it isn’t. Not for me, and not for you either.”
Her arms fall. Her gaze locks on mine, wet and bewildered. “So after four years, you just end it? Like this? Is there someone else?”
The truth lodges in my throat. I don’t say yes, though my silence is enough. Elise’s face is already there, unshakable.
Hope’s lips part, then press together. “I let you in. I thought maybe when you were ready, we’d move forward.”
The words cut. I never meant to hurt her, but I can’t hide behind excuses.
“When you wanted us to have a working relationship ‘with benefits and no strings’—your words, not mine—I agreed because I didn’t have much of myself to give and because I knew you never wanted to live in Black Bear Valley, and I never wanted to live here,” I manage. “I haven’t changed my mind. I’m sorry.”
She turns away, hand pressed to her temple, pulling in a deep breath. When she faces me again, her expression is different—harder, steadier, though her voice shakes. “So what does this mean for Renew Motion? Am I losing you as a client too?”
That I hadn’t considered. She’s not just asking if I’m leaving her bed. She’s asking if I’m erasing her from my life completely. I don’t know what to say to that. She’s done nothing to change our professional relationship, but I don’t know what that will look like after this.
I stand. “We’ll have to figure that out. But I know this is where you and I having anything personal ends.”
Her chin lifts, even as her eyes shine. “Then you need to leave.”
With a nod, I turn toward the door. When it shuts behind me with a finality that vibrates in my chest, I don’t look back.
Dominic drives me back to the office, and I check in with my team and spend the afternoon in the lab with them. It’s a great way to forget why I came to Vancouver.
I don’t like flying longer distances in the dark, so I keep an eye on the time and the sun. Before it starts to set, I head up to the helipad and climb in.
The helicopter blades whirl overhead as I lift off, the city shrinking beneath me.
I grip the controls tightly, replaying the look on Hope’s face, her voice and the crack in it when she said she’d been waiting for me to change my mind.
Relief should be my loudest feeling. I’m sorry she felt that way, and maybe I should have known, but I never promised her anything more, and I did what needed to be done.
What I wanted to do. But guilt keeps pace beside me, refusing to be shaken.
I do still need her. Not as a lover, but as my lawyer.
She’s been my lawyer since the beginning—way before she was anything else—and she’s one of the best in Vancouver, sharp as a blade in the courtroom.
I can only hope she meant it when she said she wanted to keep me as a client, that ending us doesn’t dull her edge or her interest when it comes to representing my company.
Yet even with that worry gnawing at me, Elise breaks through—her laugh, her stubborn streak, the way she handed me her fear like a gift. Hope’s words linger, but Elise’s presence settles my mind. There’s a way through this. I just have to find it.
By the time Black Bear comes into view, my guilt has dulled, replaced by something stronger, something that’s different about me now—this relentless pull toward Elise.