Chapter 24
Remy
The barn feels damp and cold, like it’s holding a grudge against me, too.
As it should, I deserve it. I took out everything I’ve been holding in for years on the people around me that I love, and I hate myself for doing that.
I was so terrified when Junie went missing.
Then Sloane showing up in the middle of it made me just lose it.
The air smells like hay and sawdust and bad decisions, a reminder of just how badly I screwed things up. My chest feels tight, like I haven’t taken a full breath since Ivy left.
Finn leans against a post with his arms crossed like a damn judge.
Tate sits on a stool, dragging his pocketknife over a whetstone, slow and steady, like he’s preparing for war.
Lola lies at my feet, staring at me like she wants to put me in the woodchipper.
Even her damn dog hates me right now. She has no idea what to do with herself when Junie gets on the bus every day.
The bus driver has to get her off the bus and bring her back to me because she wants to go with Junie so badly every morning.
I don’t know how I’m going to make it right for Junie with Ivy and Lola. If Ivy can’t forgive me and leaves us for good, taking her dog, we are going to be devastated even more than we already are right now.
“You better fix this, man,” Tate says, pointing the knife at me before sharpening it again. “You messed up bad. Like, historically bad. People in town are gonna be talking about this until the end of time. You messed with a beloved Maren.”
“I know.” My voice is low, rough. I drag my hand through my hair and stare at the ground, because looking at either of them feels like standing in front of a firing squad.
“No, you don’t know,” Tate says, standing now. His chair scrapes against the concrete, and the sound grates down my spine. “You can’t treat her like that. Ivy’s good. She’s sunshine, and somehow, she makes your grumpy ass look tolerable.”
A few customers walk by and side-eye me. One couple openly glares, then goes to their truck empty-handed. I am sure word has spread around town, and people are mad. They seemed to love seeing Ivy and I together, and now I’ve let everyone down by my stupid freak-out.
He’s right, and every word is a punch to the ribs. I have to fix this. I need to make it right, and I need to make it big. Ivy deserves nothing but the best.
Finn nods once, cool and steady. “She is good. And you hurt her. You better figure out how to make it right, or no telling what will happen to you around here.”
That makes me look up, my temper flashing hot even though I’ve got no right to be angry.
“You think I don’t hate myself right now?
” My voice comes out sharper than I meant.
“I haven’t slept since she left. I keep seeing her face when she realized what I said and—” My throat feels tight.
I shake my head. “I’m trying to figure out how to win her back before she decides I’m not worth the trouble. ”
That is the truth. I was scared. But that does not excuse what I did.
Fear is not a reason to raise my voice at her or push her away.
I know better. I watched Derek treat her like she didn’t matter and swore I would never put that look on her face.
Then I did. I told her this was her home.
I told her she belonged with me and Junie.
Ivy has the same fears I do. She knows what it is to be left and made small. I did not protect her from that. She walked out trying to hold on to her dignity while I hid behind my past hurt.
I need to own it. No explanations. No justifying.
I need to say I was wrong, that I hurt her, that I won’t do it again.
I need to show her I can be the man who steadies, not the man who makes her brace.
And if she needs space, I will give it, but I will not hide behind my past. I will meet her where I should have been standing in the first place.
Finn opens his mouth to respond, but the sound of squealing brakes cuts him off. We all turn toward the open barn doors.
Rowan’s old truck pulls in and parks abruptly, like she’s pissed. Royally pissed.
The three of us go still. The door slams hard enough to echo, and the sound goes straight through my chest. Fuck.
She climbs out, a baseball bat slung over her shoulder, and stalks toward the barn.
Tate whistles low. “I’m legit worried for you right now.”
Finn smirks like he’s been waiting for this all morning. He rubs his hands together and steps back.
Shit.
I square my shoulders and brace for impact.
My stomach twists — I’ve never been on the receiving end of Rowan Maren’s temper before, but I’ve heard stories, and it is not a fun place to stand.
Sure, that was back when she was a teenager, and she and Finn got into it.
They were always getting into it back then.
And she’s definitely angry right now as she stalks toward me.
She steps inside, boots crunching on the straw. “Remington Bennett, you broke my little sister’s heart.”
“Rowan—” I start to object. But it does no good.
“No.” She jabs the bat in my direction, and my gut says she wouldn’t hesitate to swing it if I say the wrong thing. “Do I need to break your kneecaps, or are you planning to fix this, you dumbass?”
Knowing what I did to Ivy hits me harder than the bat ever could.
Tate coughs into his fist, trying not to laugh. Finn is grinning outright now, like he’s got front-row seats to the best show in town.
“I’m going to fix it,” I say quickly. The words come out desperate, but hell, that’s what I am. “We were just planning what to do to make it up to her. Trying to figure out how to make her forgive me and trust me again.”
Rowan studies me for a long second. I hold her gaze, letting her see every ounce of regret and fear in me, because there’s no point hiding it anymore.
Finally, she nods. “Good. Because I didn’t feel like violence today, anyway.” She lets the bat drop to her side, and despite myself, I flinch.
She glares at me, “Fix this.”
She turns on her heel and heads for the door, tossing over her shoulder, “Don’t screw this up, Remy. She deserves better than what you gave her. Don’t be like Douchey Derek.”
The barn is silent until the truck door slams again, and her truck growls to life.
Tate exhales slowly and looks at Finn. “Bro. You picked the unhinged one.”
Finn smiles as if he just won a prize at the fair. “I know.”
Despite myself, I laugh, short, bitter, but real. I scrub a hand over my face. “Fine. Plan time. I’m not letting her get away from me.”
Tate grins, satisfied. “Good. Because if you don’t win her back, Rowan’s gonna come back swinging. And I can’t wait to see that. But don’t worry, I’ll make sure your funeral is nice.”
The house is too quiet when I get home. Junie’s at my mom’s for a sleepover, which means I don’t have her to keep me busy and not think about Ivy not being here right now.
I send her a text because I can’t stand it a minute longer.
I miss you. I’m so sorry, Ivy. Can we talk?
Ivy: You hurt me. I don’t know if I want to talk yet.
How can I fix this?
Ivy: I don’t know. Please tell Junie I love her, and I’m sorry.
I will. I’m going to make this right, Ivy.
I need to show her how much she means to us. I need her to feel how much I love her and need her. This house is cold and lonely without her. I need her. I want her back here where she belongs.
I toe off my boots by the door and just stand there for a minute, staring at nothing. The fight with Ivy keeps replaying like a bad movie on loop—the way her face went pale, the hurt in her eyes when I yelled at her. I sink my teeth into my bottom lip because it’s my own damn fault.
My chest aches, sharp and heavy, and I know if I don’t do something, I’ll drown in this guilt.
I find myself at the doorway to my office at the front of the house.
Calling it an “office” is generous. It’s a storage room.
The bay windows at the front of the house are hidden behind towers of boxes.
Boxes from my old life that contain old law books, files and documents stacked everywhere.
You can barely take two steps inside without bumping into something.
I don’t even know why I kept all of this.
There’s no way I’d ever go back to practicing law.
I know I’m where I’m supposed to be right now.
I lean against the door frame and let out a long breath.
This was supposed to be a space where I could start fresh, build something new after Sloane walked out.
Instead, it’s just a graveyard of the man I used to be.
I pictured myself sitting in here working on paperwork.
But this room isn’t mine. I have other plans for it.
And Ivy…she’s the first good thing to walk through my door in a long damn time.
I picture her sitting in here with sunlight streaming through those big windows, plants on tables, maybe one of her candles burning.
She’d probably laugh at the state of this room, but I can already see her bringing it back to life.
The image hits me hard, right in the ribs.
I picture photos on the walls of her, Junie, and me doing life together.
My throat feels tight, but for the first time all day, I feel steady. I know what I need to do.
I pull my phone from my pocket and text Tate and Finn.
Me: Bring the trailer. Need your help.
Tate: For what?
Me: Clearing out the office. Tonight.
Three dots pop up.
Finn: You’re serious?
Me: Dead serious.
Finn: You’re so dramatic.
I slide the phone back into my pocket and take one more look at the disaster of a room. It’s going to take hours, maybe all night, to get it cleaned out. But when Ivy comes back, this is going to be hers. A space that says she belongs here.
I press my hand against the door frame, grounding myself.
“I’m going to fix this,” I say out loud, the words hanging heavy in the quiet house. And for the first time since she left, I almost believe it.
The bed of my truck is full of cans of paint, brushes, rollers, drop cloths, the works. It smells like possibility. Like a fresh start.
I back into the driveway just as Mom’s car pulls up on the other side and parks. Junie hops out first, hair flying everywhere, then bolts for the porch, Lola fast on her heels.
“Dad!” she calls, bouncing on the top step like she’s excited to see me. “Is Ivy back, yet?”
I close my eyes. “Not yet, bug.”
I grab two cans of paint from the bed and meet them halfway. Mom gets out of the driver’s seat, that pencil perched behind her ear, that sharp, knowing look in her eye like she’s curious what I’m up to.
“Did you have fun at Nana’s?”
“She let me eat two cupcakes before dinner,” Junie says proudly.
Mom just shrugs. “You only live once. So, what are you doing to get Ivy back? Finn said you’re working on it.”
I jerk my head toward the front door. “Come look.”
Inside, the house still smells like sawdust from last night. The office is empty now, just clean wood floors and the big bay windows letting in the afternoon light. The room has wall to wall bookcases that sit empty. The whole place feels… lighter. Like a new beginning.
Mom stops in the doorway and takes it in, her expression softening. “My, my,” she says slowly. “I see you’ve been spring cleaning. What are you doing with this room?”
I set the paint down, my throat feeling tight. “I’m building Ivy a library. Finn is building the ladder and adding the hardware so it rolls across the shelves.”
Mom’s red-lipsticked smile spreads, slow and sure. “Wow. This is a romantic grand gesture. I love it.”
Junie gasps and hugs my waist. “Is she coming back?!”
God, I hope so. I crouch down to meet her excited little face. “I’m trying, bug. This is…my way of telling her she belongs here. With us.”
Junie throws her arms around my neck, squeezing so hard I have to blink a few times to keep it together.
My mom clears her throat, like she’s pretending she’s not getting misty-eyed. “Well, if you’re building a library, it needs books. Let me speak to Willa at the bookstore and put in an order. We’ll get those shelves filled.”
“You don’t have to do that, Ma.” I huff out a laugh, standing again. Then I ask her, quieter and nervously. “Do you think I have a chance?”
My mom arches one perfectly shaped brow. “Remy, I’ve been writing romance for thirty years. Do you really think I’m going to let the best love story in Wisteria Cove end before it’s properly begun?”
Junie giggles, already spinning in a circle in the middle of the empty room. “Can we paint it pink?”
“Not pink,” I say, grinning despite myself. “But we’ll make it perfect for her. I hold up the paint. You can help.”
My mom pats my arm as she heads toward the kitchen. “Good. Because you only get one shot at this. Don’t mess it up. Make it big and make it beautiful.”
I watch her go, my chest aching but steady. This room isn’t just for Ivy. It’s for Junie. For me. For the life we’re going to build if I can just get her to forgive me for being the biggest asshole on the planet. I promise I’ll spend the rest of my life giving her the entire world if she wants it.
And I swear to myself, as I open the first can of paint, that I won’t stop until it’s perfect.