Chapter 22
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
The orchard smelled of warm apples and cinnamon, sunlight pooling golden across the rows of trees. Under the wide, honeyed stretch of early afternoon sky, the cider-tasting event was in full swing.
Wooden tables draped with plaid runners stood beneath white tents, each one offering something to sample—caramel apple cider, spiced pear blends, even warm doughnuts that sent sugar melting across Zoe’s fingertips.
She and John wandered, hand in hand, between stations, occasionally stopping to chat with someone they knew or to savor the latest pour. Laughter floated through the crisp autumn air, kids darted between bales of hay, and an acoustic trio played soft folk covers near the barn.
They were a couple now. It showed in the little things—the way John reached for her hand without thinking, the way she leaned into him as he read the label on a bottle, murmuring something in her ear that made her laugh.
Ordinary gestures that felt almost extraordinary, like something she didn’t want to take for granted.
“I could get used to this,” he said, tilting his cup toward hers in a mock toast.
“Day drinking in an orchard?” Zoe bumped her cup to his. “Dangerously easy to enjoy.”
“No.” His smile softened, and for a moment, the bustle of the orchard blurred around them. “This. You and me. Feeling like we belong somewhere.”
She met his gaze for a heartbeat longer than necessary. “Me, too.”
The next week passed in a blur of deadlines, coffee runs, and the same golden autumn sun that had bathed the orchard that day. By Thursday afternoon, Zoe found herself glancing at the clock more than usual. She was already counting down the hours until she could get home, freshen up and see John.
Their weekend plans weren’t anything elaborate—just dinner and maybe a walk by the harbor—but she felt that low, thrumming excitement all the same. A weekend with John meant time that felt real, easy. Right.
John’s time in Good Hope was nearly over. In a few more days, he’d be free to return to Austin. He’d have no reason to stay in Good Hope.
Except for her.
He hadn’t said the words outright, but he’d hinted. More than once. And she had, too. Casual comments, soft allusions. Both of them circling the truth like something delicate they were afraid to disturb.
The crazy thing was, only now, feeling the difference, living it, did she understand what real love felt like. It wasn’t a sprint. It wasn’t breathless or built on surface charm. It was quieter. Truer.
She thought back to the day Erik had shown up at her apartment, his words rehearsed, his tone somber. “We need to talk.”
He’d said they weren’t right for each other, that he didn’t just want to postpone the wedding. He didn’t think they should be together at all.
He’d spoken with practiced grace, but the truth had landed like a slap.
And now…the sting was gone.
In hindsight, she could see it for what it was. He’d done them both a favor. The man she’d wanted him to be had never really existed. His doubts, his distance—he’d kept them from her until it was too late. Until he was halfway out the door.
She hadn’t fought him. When he’d said “maybe someday,” she’d shut that door clean. Impulsive? Maybe. But not wrong.
Because this, what she had now, was what love was supposed to look like.
Steady. Honest. Real.
John wasn’t perfect, but he was genuine. What you saw was what you got. No shadows were hiding in his words, no smooth rehearsed apologies. Just a man who showed up, every day, with his full heart in it.
A man she could trust with hers.
That was why she moved with a little more energy than usual as she wrapped up her last few tasks. Why she reached for her coat and double-checked her lipstick in the mirror.
Tonight wasn’t a milestone. No anniversary. No special celebration. And yet, her pulse quickened all the same.
Because love, she was learning, didn’t always arrive with fanfare. Sometimes it was in the soft anticipation of going home to someone who made you feel like your best self.
And that was exactly what she was hurrying toward.
The knock—two quick taps, one pause, then a third—had Zoe smiling as she hurried to open it.
John.
She melted when she saw him holding two takeout bags and wearing that familiar half grin.
“I brought your favorite,” he said. “And I figured we could walk down by the harbor after dinner.”
She stepped aside, letting him in. “You didn’t have to go all out.”
“I wanted to.” He set the bags of Chinese food on the counter, then turned to face her again.
They stood there for a moment, neither of them moving, the silence between them soft and full.
“I missed seeing you today,” she said finally. He’d been on Zoom calls most of the day.
He gave a low laugh. “I missed you more.”
That pulled a smile from her, and some of the fluttering in her chest eased. “Well, I guess we’re officially even.”
“How was your day?” he asked, pulling out containers out of the bags.
They sat at the table, eating noodles straight from the cartons while she told him about going over the market research and new location strategy report with her father, the one she and John had compiled. Talk then turned to the upcoming Harvest Festival and the Daily Grind’s role in it.
As the food disappeared and the conversation slowed, John leaned back on his hands, watching her with a look that made her pulse skip.
“What?” she asked, suddenly self-conscious under the weight of his gaze.
“These past two months…” he began, his voice quiet. “They’ve been the best. And I’m not just talking about the work, although that’s been great.”
She nodded slowly. “It’s been the same for me.”
The room grew still.
Zoe traced the rim of her cup with one finger, the silence humming between them. “What happens next?” she asked softly. “It’s nearly time for you to leave.”
“I spoke with my boss after the last Zoom call,” he said, sitting forward now. “He confirmed I can work from anywhere.”
She looked up, brows lifting. “Even a town as small and remote as Good Hope?”
“It’s not all that remote,” John said with a smile, then his expression turned serious. “But yes. Even here.”
Something shifted in his tone. This was about more than logistics, more than convenience.
“I don’t want to leave, Zoe,” he said. “I want to stay here…with you.”
Her breath caught.
He held her gaze, unflinching. “The truth is, I’ve loved you for years. I never said anything because you were with Erik, but you’re not now. And I know you feel this connection like I do.”
Her heart beat wildly. “Yes, I do.” Her voice was barely a whisper. She lifted a hand to his face. “I’ve fallen for you, too.”
He turned his head and pressed a kiss into her palm. “I want to build a future with you.”
“I want that, too,” she whispered. “So much.”
Their foreheads touched, breaths mingling. But then Zoe pulled back slightly, emotion swelling in her throat.
“But I’m scared, too.”
His gaze searched hers, steady and reassuring. “About?”
“What if my newness wears off for you? What if you realize you want someone with bigger dreams?”
“Bigger dreams?” His brows drew together. “Where is this coming from?”
“When Erik called off our engagement, he said he needed someone with bigger dreams.” She lifted her chin. “But I’m not going to apologize for wanting a successful work and home life.”
Drawing in a breath, John muttered a curse. “Is that what he told you?”
“That’s what he said.” She took a deep breath and continued. “And look, I don’t blame him. I mean, his timing could have been a lot better, obviously. However, I don’t want to be with someone who doesn’t want me for who I am. We all deserve to have the kind of partner we want. Even Erik.”
“No. Not ‘even Erik.’”
“What?” Zoe’s expression was a mixture of confused and curious. “Why not him?”
John hesitated. He thought back on their previous conversations, to Zoe’s comments about how she wanted to be a better partner for the next person. He’d been confused as to why she would think she was the problem, but now the answer was obvious—Erik had lied to her. Of course he had.
“I thought you were the one who called it off, Zoe. I thought you ended it with him…after he admitted he was cheating.”
Her world tilted, air catching hard in her throat.
“Cheating?” she whispered, the word splintering in her mouth. “Erik…was cheating on me?”
“I thought he confessed, and you ended it.”
“I didn’t end it. He did.” Zoe’s gaze locked on John. “You knew Erik was cheating on me?”
“Yes, but—”
“You knew,” she cut in, her tone stripped of all softness, “and you didn’t tell me.”
“I was giving him a chance to do the right thing.” The words tumbled out in a rush, as if he feared she’d shut him down before he could finish.
“When you first started dating, yeah, I knew he was still seeing other women. But I thought he’d stopped.
I thought proposing to you meant he’d finally grown up.
And when you and I were spending time together, becoming friends, I honestly believed he was committed. ”
Zoe dug her nails into her palms and forced herself to hear it all.
“But a month or so after the engagement was announced, I saw him out with someone he’d been with before. He brushed it off, said it was nothing. Like it was normal. He even joked that plenty of married guys keep someone on the side.”
Zoe’s stomach turned. “He said that?”
A muscle in John’s jaw jumped. “I told him it had to stop. I made it clear that if he didn’t tell you, I would.
He promised he would. I wanted to believe him, Zoe.
I wanted to believe he’d come clean. You were so happy—I couldn’t stand being the guy who blew it all apart.
He was my friend, and I trusted him to tell you. ”
“You were my friend, too.” Her voice cracked like glass. “At least I thought you were. Yet you stayed silent. How long had you known?”
His silence was answer enough.
Her breath caught. “Months. It was months, wasn’t it?”
“I told him he had to come clean—”
“I don’t care about that.” Her voice rose, edged with fury. “I care that you knew. You knew that the man I was dating—the man I said yes to, the man I was ready to marry—was cheating on me, lying to me, and you said nothing.”
Hurt mixed with anger, and Zoe trembled with the force of the emotions rushing through her. Had everyone known? Was she the only one in the dark?
He reached for her, but she stepped back.
“Don’t.” Her tone sharpened. “Don’t touch me.”
“Zoe—”
“All this time, I felt like I wasn’t enough for him.” Her voice quivered with the sting of betrayal. “I blamed myself. And the reason Erik ended it really had nothing to do with me.”
She laughed, a bitter, hollow sound. “And you knew. You knew, and you didn’t say a word.”
John looked stricken. “I would have told you if he hadn’t—”
“I’m not talking about right before we broke up. I’m talking about all those months before. All that time you could’ve told me, but didn’t.”
He opened his mouth, but she cut him off.
“All those weeks—those months—you said nothing. I could’ve gotten out sooner. Saved myself the public humiliation, the private devastation.”
“Zoe, please—”
“I can’t look at you right now.” Her voice was hoarse, thick with unshed tears. “Get out.”
His expression shifted, remorse giving way to something close to desperation. “Don’t do this. Let’s sit down. Let’s talk.”
“There’s nothing left to say.” She crossed to the door and yanked it open, her hand trembling. “I already escaped one dishonest man. I’m not going to be involved with another one.”
He hesitated. For a heartbeat, she thought he might refuse to go.
Instead, he said quietly, “We’ll talk later.”
She slammed the door shut behind him.
Zoe stood there for a moment, her hand still on the knob, her chest rising and falling in uneven breaths.
She should move. Take a step. Sit down.
Instead, she sank slowly to the floor, her back pressed to the cool wood of the door, as if holding it shut could keep the hurt from seeping in.
But the pain was already here.
It sat in her chest like a stone, heavy, unmoving, unwelcome.
She wrapped her arms around her knees and stared at nothing.
John had known.
For months.
She wanted to scream. To cry. To go back and unknow what she now knew.
But mostly, she just sat there, quiet and trembling, trying to reassemble the shape of her own history now that it looked nothing like she’d believed.
All that time, she’d thought Erik had ended things because she wasn’t enough for him.
Not ambitious enough. Not exciting enough. Not a big enough dreamer.
But it was a lie. Everything had been a lie. One designed to manipulate her.
And John had known what Erik was doing—and he hadn’t told her.
John, whom she had thought was her friend.
That hurt in a deeper place than she was prepared for.
Because she’d let herself believe things were different with him. That he was different.
He had been her safe place.
And tonight…she’d let herself believe in forever.
Her throat closed as the memory replayed—him holding her hand, kissing her palm, telling her he’d loved her for years.
And now, all she could think was, if he had loved her, why hadn’t he told her about Erik’s cheating?
She closed her eyes and let the tears fall, quiet, hot and slow.
It wasn’t just the past that felt broken.
It was the future she’d only just started to let herself believe in.
Dinner together. Walks by the harbor. Staying. Choosing. Belonging.
Now all of it felt like another lie.
She swiped at her face, breathing hard, her voice rough when she finally whispered into the silence.
“I don’t want perfect. I just want honesty.”
Her voice cracked.
And maybe that was the most painful part.
Because she’d thought she had that.