Chapter Eight
Wade
I worked alone on the lakeshore, carefully collecting the scattered pieces of the wedding arch.
The white lilies were crushed, their sweet scent still lingering despite the damage.
My shirt had dried in patches, stiff with lake water and sweat as I methodically sorted salvageable decorations from the ruined ones.
The sun had moved westward in the sky, casting longer shadows across the sand. In a few hours, Theodore and Edna would be standing here, exchanging vows. I positioned two sections of the broken arch together, testing the fit before reaching for the toolbox I’d grabbed from my truck.
As I measured and marked where repairs were needed, my mind kept returning to Lark. The look in her eyes when she'd told me she was leaving for Chicago. The way her voice had trembled slightly, betraying emotions her careful composure tried to hide.
"Wade?"
I looked up to find Bailey Wilder standing nearby.
"I need to find Lark," she said directly. "I've discovered something she needs to know."
I set down my hammer, brushing sand from my hands. "What do you mean?"
"Lark came to see me this morning," Bailey explained. "About a professional matter. Now that she's retained my representation, I’m afraid I can't reveal the substance of our conversation."
Her words caught me off guard. "I didn't realize she knew you."
"She sought me out," Bailey said simply. "But I've just uncovered information that changes her situation considerably. Do you know where she is?"
I shook my head, processing this new information. Lark had hired Bailey as her lawyer. Whatever was happening with her firm in Chicago was serious enough to require legal representation.
"She's probably at the Evergreen Inn," I said finally.
Bailey nodded and turned to leave, then paused. "Thank you. I should go find her."
I watched her walk away, my hands gripping the piece of arch I'd been working on. The pressure Lark must have been under - I hadn't understood at all. I'd been too focused on my own feelings of abandonment to consider what she might be going through.
"Hey."
Tyler's voice pulled me from my thoughts. He surveyed the damaged structure, then knelt beside me, picking up a section of wood.
"Saw what happened," he said, examining the break. "How are you doing?"
"Miserable," I admitted, hammering a nail with perhaps more force than necessary.
Tyler worked silently beside me for a few minutes, helping position the larger pieces while I secured them. The familiar rhythm of construction gave me something to focus on besides the hollow feeling in my chest.
"I'm an idiot," I finally said, laughing bitterly. "I could never hope to have someone like Lark. Why can't I learn? I keep screwing everything up. I'm not good enough for someone like her. I knew she was out of my league to begin with. Why would I expect her to settle for a guy like me?"
Tyler set down the section he was holding, his expression hardening. "Stop it. Stop it right now."
"What are you talking about?" I asked defensively. "I'm just speaking the truth."
"No, you're not," he countered firmly. "And playing the victim card isn't a good look on you. You're better than that."
I turned back to the arch, driving another nail.
"Don't forget who you are," Tyler continued, undeterred by my silence.
"Someone who does what it takes when the chips are down, who steps up, who is there for people who need him.
You are genuine, honest, bright, and you care for others.
Your students love you, your family loves you, this town loves you. "
He handed me another piece of the arch. "Vanessa was never right for you. Her decision to leave was not a reflection on you, buddy. It wasn't about you at all. Don't let your self-worth be dictated by others."
I paused my work, the weight of his words sinking in.
"From what I saw of Lark at the cookout," he said more gently, "she's kind, friendly, real. She's probably simply scared. She's only human too. But from what I could tell, the connection between you and her was real."
Tyler secured a section of the arch I'd just fixed. "If you want her, then dude, fight for her. If it doesn't work out, so be it, but at least you'll know for sure."
The afternoon wore on as Tyler helped me rebuild the wedding structure. With each piece we fixed, each flower we repositioned, his words resonated more deeply. I'd spent so much time assuming I wasn't enough—for Vanessa, for Lark, maybe for anyone—that I'd stopped seeing my own worth.
But my best friend was right. I was enough. My relationship with Vanessa simply wasn’t meant to be. But Lark? I’d never know what could be possible between us if I wasn’t brave enough to find out.
I secured the final section of the a, stepping back to evaluate our work. The repaired structure stood solid once again, adorned with fresh flowers Rory had sent down from the inn's garden to replace the damaged ones.
"It looks better than before," Tyler observed, wiping sweat from his brow.
I nodded, brushing sawdust from my hands. "I need to find her."
"About time," Tyler said, clapping my shoulder. "Go. I'll clean up here."
The walk to the Evergreen Inn felt both too long and too short. What would I say to her? How could I explain that I understood now—that I wanted to support her through whatever she was facing, even if that meant waiting while she dealt with her career issues in Chicago?
When I reached the inn, I hesitated only briefly before climbing the porch steps. Through the window, I caught a glimpse of Bailey leaving, her expression suggesting her meeting with Lark had been significant.
Inside, Rory looked up from the reception desk, her expression softening when she saw me.
“She’s upstairs. The Larkspur Suite.”
I took the steps two at a time, my heart pounding against my ribs. Outside the Larkspur Suite, I paused, taking a deep breath before knocking.
When Lark opened the door, the sight of her stopped me cold. Her eyes were red-rimmed, tear tracks visible on her cheeks. Behind her, I could see an open suitcase on the bed, clothes partially packed.
"Wade," she said, surprise evident in her voice. "I didn't expect..."
"Can I come in?" I asked quietly.
She stepped aside, wiping quickly at her eyes. "Bailey just left."
I entered, noticing the scattered personal items around the room—evidence of her hasty packing interrupted.
"She told me she'd discovered something," I said carefully.
Lark sank onto the edge of the bed, fresh tears welling in her eyes. "It was Sloane and Andrew, my colleagues at Keller & Benson," she said, her voice breaking. "Bailey found evidence they've been having an affair for months. They conspired to frame me for the information leak."
I sat beside her, leaving enough space between us to respect her boundaries. "Tell me everything. Please."
The story poured out of her then—the accusations of misconduct against her, how she'd been placed on administrative leave, embarrassed and afraid. How she'd come to Wintervale to escape while the firm investigated, never intending to tell anyone the truth about her situation.
"My career—it's everything I've worked for all my life," she said, twisting her grandmother's ring. "It's all I have."
"But why frame you?" I asked, trying to understand.
"Andrew wanted the partnership position that was opening up.
I was his main competition," she explained.
"And Sloane—she was supposed to be my friend.
I trusted her." Lark shook her head, disbelief evident in her expression.
"I can't believe they were having an affair all along, using my login credentials to access confidential documents. Bailey found the digital trail."
Her shoulders shook with suppressed sobs. I wanted desperately to hold her but held back, unsure if she'd welcome my touch after our argument.
"I'm so sorry," I said, the words inadequate for what she was going through. "I had no idea what you were dealing with."
"How could you?" she asked, looking up at me with tear-filled eyes. "I never told you. I was too embarrassed, too afraid of appearing weak. Perfect Lark Hayes, suddenly facing professional ruin."
I took a chance then, gently taking her hand. When she didn't pull away, I felt a glimmer of hope.
"I pushed you away," I admitted, "because I was afraid you'd leave anyway. I've been down that road before, and I didn't think I could survive watching another woman choose a different life over me."
Lark's fingers tightened around mine. "I've been hiding behind perfection my whole life," she whispered.
"But there is no such thing, is there?" She wiped a tear with her free hand.
"My grandmother did her best to protect my mother and me from what she went through—the pain of loss, betrayal—but despite all the walls I've built, it managed to find me anyway. "
She looked up, her eyes searching mine. "The question is, was I too busy trying to keep people out that I didn't let the right ones in? My parents are in a loveless marriage, at least from what I can tell. It's more a business deal than anything else, any love they had faded years ago."
A fresh tear slid down her cheek. "I don't want to live like that. Being here in Wintervale—with you—I've seen a different way to live. Real connections, people who are trustworthy, a community who's got your back. It's beautiful."
Her vulnerability broke something open inside me. I'd been so focused on my own fears that I hadn't recognized hers—the terror of letting someone past those carefully constructed defenses.
"When Vanessa left," I said slowly, "I thought I wasn't enough for her. Now I know I was enough—just not for her."
Lark nodded, understanding in her eyes. "Fear drove both of us, didn't it? Me hiding behind the false goal of perfection, you behind the assumption you weren't worthy."
"Bailey suggested I could stay in Wintervale," she continued, "and attend the board meeting tomorrow remotely—with her by my side. She thinks with the evidence she's gathered, we can clear my name and expose Andrew and Sloane."
Hope surged through me, but I kept my expression neutral. "You should fight for your job," I said firmly. "You've worked too hard to let them take it from you. I hope the partners will take the new evidence seriously and do the right thing."
I took a deep breath, deciding to lay everything on the line. "I'm here for you, Lark. I genuinely care about you—scratch that—the truth is I'm falling head over heels for you, but I don't want to pressure you. Just know I'm here, and I always will be... however you want me."
Her eyes widened at my confession, fresh tears spilling over. For a terrible moment, I thought I'd said too much, too soon. Then she squeezed my hand.
"That means more to me than you'll ever know," she whispered. "I feel the same about you—I love everything about you, Wade—your values, the way you live your life, your heart."
The admission hung between us, honest and raw. No more pretending. No more holding back.
"So….does this mean you’ll stay in Wintervale—at least for the time being? I need a date for the Mayor and Edna's wedding, you know," I said with a smile, reaching to tuck a lock of hair behind her ear. "It starts in about two hours. We still have enough time to get ready if you’re game."
A smile broke through her tears. "Yes," she said simply.
I pulled her gently into my arms, feeling her body relax against mine. As I held her, I knew we still had challenges ahead. Her career in Chicago, my life in Wintervale—these weren't small obstacles. But for the first time, I believed we might find a way through them together.
We didn't know what the future held, but what we felt for each other was undeniable. This wasn't pretend anymore—this was something real, something worth fighting for. Whatever challenges lay ahead, we would face them together, because some connections are too precious to let slip away.