Chapter 8
CHAPTER EIGHT
Reese
I find the note at six AM, after a sleepless night wondering why her car was gone.
The grandmother’s ring sits on top of her careful handwriting, catching the morning light like an accusation.
“Fuck,” I breathe, then louder, “FUCK!”
“Language,” Taylor says from the doorway. She’s holding coffee and wearing her sympathetic face, which means she already knows. “I saw her leave on the security camera.”
“She left. She actually left.”
“She’s scared, Reese.”
“She’s gone.” I slump into the chair, holding the ring like it might evaporate too. “I pushed too hard. Or not hard enough. I don’t even know anymore.”
Taylor sets the coffee down, reads the note over my shoulder. “Work emergency? That’s the best she could do?”
“What was she supposed to say? ‘Sorry, your fake fiancée got too real and had to flee?’”
“Is that what happened?”
I tell her about Fletcher, about his poison disguised as concern, about Audra’s questions I couldn’t answer well enough.
“That manipulative bastard,” Taylor mutters. “He’s been trying to buy this place for two years.”
“Doesn’t matter now. She’s gone.”
“So go after her.”
“She said she needs space.”
“She said she needs to figure out what’s real. So show her.” Taylor sits across from me, her expression fierce. “Reese, do you know what she told me? While you were fixing the dock?”
“What?”
“She said she’s never been happier than these last few weeks. Said she forgot what it felt like to just exist without every minute being scheduled, every outcome being planned. She said you made her remember who she was before she got lost in who she thought she had to be.”
My chest tightens. “She said that?”
“And then she immediately made me promise not to tell you because she was terrified of ruining your friendship again.” Taylor leans forward.
“She’s not running because she doesn’t care.
She’s running because she cares too much and thinks it’s one-sided, or worse—that it’s only about the inheritance. ”
“But I told her—”
“You told her it’s always been about her. But did you tell her you love her? Did you tell her you want her to stay forever, not just through summer? Did you tell her the lodge means nothing compared to her?”
“I... no.”
“Then what are you waiting for?”
I look at the ring in my hand, at the note with its careful words meant to make leaving easier for both of us.
“What if she doesn’t want to see me?”
“Then at least you’ll know. But Reese?” Taylor stands, squeezes my shoulder. “That woman is desperately in love with you. She just doesn’t believe you feel the same way. Not really. Not enough to choose her over everything else.”
“I do, though.”
“Then prove it. Go to New York. Stand outside her building. Make a fool of yourself. Do whatever it takes to show her this is real.”
By noon, I’m on the highway heading south, having left Taylor in charge of the lodge and a story about a family emergency for the guests. The four-hour drive feels like forever, giving me too much time to think about everything I should have said, should have done differently.
I call Cosmo—his number was in Audra’s emergency contact forms.
“Well, well,” he answers. “The mountain man finally calls.”
“Is she okay?”
“She’s locked herself in her apartment and is reorganizing her entire spice cabinet alphabetically and then by color. So no, she’s not okay.”
“I’m coming to the city.”
“Thank god. She’s been miserable since she got back. Showed up at five AM looking like someone died.”
“Will she see me?”
“Probably not. But her spare key is under the fake rock by the door. She thinks she’s so clever with that thing.”
“You’re telling me to break into her apartment?”
“I’m telling you she’s been in love with you for thirteen years and is too scared to believe you feel the same way. Do with that information what you will.”
He texts me her address and a warning: “She hasn’t eaten today. Bring food.”
I stop at three places, gathering everything I remember she loves—Thai food from some hole-in-the-wall Cosmo recommends, those expensive chocolates she pretends not to have a weakness for, fresh flowers that aren’t roses because she always said roses were cliché.
Her building is exactly what I expected—converted warehouse, exposed brick, the kind of place that shows up in lifestyle magazines. The fake rock is indeed terrible, obvious even to someone who’s spent his life around actual rocks.
I knock first. “Audra? It’s me. Please open the door.”
Silence.
“I know you’re in there. Your super said you haven’t left since you got back.”
Still nothing.
“I’m using the spare key. The one under the world’s most obvious fake rock.”
“Don’t you dare—” Her voice is muffled but close. She’s right on the other side of the door.
“Then open up. Please.”
“Go away, Reese. I need time to think.”
“You can think after you eat something. I brought Thai food. From that place on 42nd that Cosmo says you love.”
A long pause. “You called Cosmo?”
“I was worried about you.”
“I’m fine.”
“Your spice cabinet says otherwise.”
Another pause. Then the sound of locks turning.
She opens the door just a crack, and my heart breaks a little. She’s in pajamas at four PM, hair in a messy bun, eyes red-rimmed. She looks small and vulnerable and nothing like the polished event planner or even the relaxed woman who’s been at the lodge.
“Hi,” I say softly.
“Hi,” she whispers back.
“Can I come in?”
She steps aside wordlessly. Her apartment is stunning—all clean lines and carefully curated furniture—but it feels cold compared to the warmth she brought to the lodge.
“Nice place.”
“It photographs well.” She wraps her arms around herself. “Why are you here, Reese?”
“Because you left. Because I let you leave. Because I’ve been an idiot.”
“You’re not an idiot.”
“I am, though. I’ve been so focused on saving the lodge that I forgot to tell you the most important thing.”
“Which is?”
I set down the food, the flowers, everything except what matters. Then I step closer, not touching but close enough that she has to look up at me.
“I love you.”
She inhales sharply.
“I love you,” I continue, voice steady now.
“Not because I need a fiancée. Not because you’re convenient or available.
I love you for who you are—the woman who color-codes napkins when she’s anxious and eats ice cream for breakfast when she thinks no one’s watching.
The woman who challenges me and makes me laugh and makes me want to be better than I am. ”
“Reese—”
“I’m not done. I came here to tell you the truth.
All of it.” I take a deep breath. “I’m going to fight for the lodge.
I’ll figure something out—maybe Bernard backs off now that we’re actually together, maybe I take out loans, maybe I find investors.
I don’t know. But that’s my problem to solve, not yours. ”
“But the will—”
“The will says I need to be married by August 31st. And honestly? After these last few weeks, I can’t imagine marrying anyone but you. But that’s my issue to deal with. You don’t owe me anything, Audra. Not your hand in marriage, not your help with the lodge, nothing.”
She stares at me, tears streaming down her face. “Then why are you here?”
“Because I needed you to know that none of this was about the lodge. When you drove up that first day, before you offered to help, before I knew you’d save me—all I could think was that you were there. You were real. You were in front of me after ten years of wondering ‘what if.’”
“Fletcher said—”
“Fletcher lied. He twisted things to make you doubt us. Yes, he suggested I hire someone. No, I never pursued it. Because the truth is, I’d rather lose the lodge than fake something that important.”
“You don’t mean that.”
“I do, though.” I step closer, but don’t touch her, giving her space. “The lodge is my family’s history. But you? You could be my future. And if I have to choose, I choose you. Not as blackmail, not as a condition. Just... I choose you. Whether you choose me back or not.”
She’s quiet for a long moment, searching my face. “You’d really lose the lodge?”
“I’d hate it. It would break my heart. But losing you again would break me worse.” I pull out a key, set it on her counter. “This is to the Mann Suite. It’s yours whether you come back or not. A standing invitation, no expiration date, no strings attached.”
“Reese—”
“I’m going back to the lodge now. I’ve got two weeks to figure out how to save it. If you decide you want to be part of that—or if you just want to talk, or even if you just want to yell at me—you know where to find me.”
I turn to leave, get as far as the door before her voice stops me.
“You brought Thai food?”
I look back. She’s holding the bag I set down when I arrived, a small smile breaking through her tears.
“From the place on 42nd. Cosmo said you love it.”
“You called Cosmo?”
“I was worried about you. He said you were reorganizing your spice rack by color.”
“I was processing.”
“I know.” I open the door. “Enjoy the food, Audra. Take all the time you need.”
“Wait.” She crosses to me. “You’d really choose me over the lodge?”
“Already did. The moment you left, I knew I’d rather have you than a hundred lodges.”
“That’s the most romantic and stupidest thing you’ve ever said.”
“Probably.”
She laughs through her tears. “I can’t let you lose the lodge.”
“That’s not your responsibility—”
“Shut up.” She grabs my shirt, pulls me down to her level.
“I’m not coming back to save the lodge. I’m coming back because I love you.
Because I’ve loved you since college and I’m tired of pretending otherwise.
Because these last few weeks have been the happiest of my life, fake engagement and all. ”
“Audra—”
“But we’re doing this right. No more fake anything. We date. We figure out if this works in the real world. And if it does, maybe we get married before your deadline. Or maybe we don’t, and we figure out the lodge another way. But either way, we do it together. As equals. Deal?”