Chapter 14
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
Savvy
I headed up the narrow staircase to my apartment, my phone still buzzing in my hand. At my door, I paused, took a deep breath, and opened the latest message.
Henry
Savvy, please don’t shut me out. We need to talk.
I hesitated for a moment, my fingers hovering over the keyboard before typing back:
Me
You get one hour. Bookstore. Nine.
I pressed send, locking the door behind me. His reply came almost instantly.
Henry
Thank you, Savvy. I’ll be there.
Inside my apartment, I headed straight for the kitchen and poured a generous glass of wine. The bookstore had been the right choice—quiet but still public. Not like this apartment, filled with personal photographs and morning coffee mugs. Even locked up, Mom’s domain was like neutral ground. The shelves of books stood as sentinels, separating my personal life from whatever Henry was bringing to my door. Sure, the store had its own memories, but they were blurred by years of strangers’ footsteps and the steady rhythm of business.
I took a long sip of wine and buried my face in my free hand. “You’re playing with fire, Honeysucker,” I told myself. “And you know exactly how this ends.”
But as I stood to get ready, the feeling lingered—this time, the flames might just be worth the burn. At least here, surrounded by shelves of other people’s stories, I could keep my walls up.
I set the glass down with a sigh, shaking my head to dispel the memories. This wasn’t the time for nostalgia or second-guessing. My parents’ livelihood was on the line, and if Henry thought he had something important to share, I needed to hear it.
From my perch in the window seat, I saw him. My heart hammered against my ribs as I watched him approach the door. I’d spent countless evenings in this window seat, lost in other people’s stories, but now my past was walking up to the door. I forced myself to wait until he was close before standing, my legs shakier than I wanted to admit.
The lock clicked beneath my fingers, loud in the empty store. As I pulled the door open, the night air rushed in, carrying his scent—sandalwood mingled with something unmistakably Henry—hitting me like a wave. Memories surged. The lazy Sundays spent together, stolen kisses within these walls, the safety of his arms around me. My fingers tightened on the edge of the door until they ached. Keep it together, Savvy. You’re not that naive girl anymore.
“Savvy,” he said, his voice low and inviting, and I cursed my traitorous pulse for responding to that familiar drawl.
“Henry,” I said, keeping my voice steady. “Let’s get on with it, okay?” A shadow of unease crossed his face, and despite everything, a pang of sympathy tightened in my chest. He’d dragged me into this chaos, but he was also helping me navigate it.
“Okay, then,” he started, his fingers raking through his hair—a gesture I’d forgotten until now. “Thanks for agreeing to see me.”
I shot him a skeptical look. “I’m here for one reason only—my family.”
Henry’s features hardened into a mix of resolve and understanding. “I understand, but there are matters you should be informed about?—”
“Wait,” I cut him off, hating the slight quiver in my voice that betrayed my tangled emotions. “I don’t need a history lesson or excuses for what transpired years ago. Just explain how this predicament impacts River Bend Books.”
He closed the gap between us by a step, and I steeled myself against the urge to back away from him, from our shared past and the possibility of a complicated future.
“This isn’t as simple as you think,” he replied, his voice steady but laced with quiet intensity. “There’s history here, context you need to understand?—”
“Backstory?” A dry chuckle escaped me, more sarcasm than bite this time. Our tangled history was nothing if not full of it. “Is that what we’re calling our past? Backstory? Quite the term from the man who disappeared without letting me have a say in my story.”
Henry’s jaw tightened, but he pressed on. “My father’s interference in River Bend isn’t new. Your family’s business in the marina and bookstore have been in his sights for years. He’s been methodically working to undermine your family, forcing me to make a choice. Your return gave him the momentum to move forward with his plans.”
I tried to focus on his words, but my mind kept drifting. The familiar cadence of his voice and the way his brow furrowed when he was worried were all achingly familiar. Stop it, Savvy. This isn’t about you and him.
“Mason told me about a board meeting scheduled for tomorrow, and I plan to be there,” Henry announced, his voice laced with an undercurrent of urgency. “I’m certain my father’s planning to use it as a launchpad to exploit River Bend.”
My eyes widened, the sudden revelation momentarily throwing me off balance. “So, this is bigger than the bookstore?”
“Yes,” he said. “I think my father plans to redevelop River Bend completely. If he gets his way, the marina, the main street, everything that gives this town its character—it’ll all be gone. He’ll flatten it, rebuild it into some lifeless corporate vision of progress, and leave nothing of what makes this place special.”
I sat there, stunned into silence. His words pressed down on me, thickening the space between us with an unbearable weight. How could one person carry so much hatred? How could someone be so consumed by greed and power that they’d willingly destroy an entire town? To Richard Kingston, families, livelihoods, and memories were nothing more than collateral damage .
“How does someone become like that?” I murmured, almost to myself. “How do you hate so much that you’re willing to destroy everything in your path to get what you want?”
Henry’s gaze darkened, his jaw tightening. “It’s not hate, Savvy. It’s control. My father doesn’t see people—he sees obstacles. And he removes them. Whether it’s a business, a community, or…” He trailed off, his expression pained. “Or his own son.”
The vulnerability in his voice caught me off guard, and for a moment, I saw the cracks in Henry’s composed exterior. It wasn’t shock or concern I was seeing—it was a deep, personal wound that had never fully healed.
I swallowed hard, my emotions threatening to spiral. “It’s … hard to comprehend,” I said. “Your father’s actions aren’t about profit. They’re personal. He’s tearing this town apart, and for what? To prove he can?”
Henry nodded, his expression grim. “For Richard Kingston, power is everything. If he can crush River Bend, it’ll solidify his legacy as someone unstoppable. He doesn’t care how many lives he destroys in the process.”
A laugh escaped me, though there was no humor in it. “And here I thought my life was complicated enough without adding ‘saving the town’ to my list of responsibilities.”
Henry hesitated. “James has been helping me,” he admitted. “He has connections in the city—inspectors, officials, people my father ignored because they didn’t come with a price tag. He’s made calls. If there’s a way to stop my father, we’ll find it.”
I blinked at the mention of James tugging at a thread of memory. “Yes,” I said, nodding. “My father told me James put a call into the city today. It’s the only reason we’re still open.”
Henry exhaled, his relief palpable. “Good. That buys us time. James isn’t done yet, either. He’s reached out to some people with enough influence to push back. They’ll stand with us if we can show them the evidence.”
James Morrison’s unwavering commitment to River Bend took root in my mind. This was the same man who had once sat in this bookstore, discussing poetry with my mother, and he was still battling for our town. I was struck by his understated resilience—a trait Henry must have inherited yet seldom revealed. This realization stirred a strange cocktail of emotions—an odd blend of hope and uncertainty.
A heavy silence settled between us. My eyes wandered over Henry’s face, probing for answers I wasn’t even sure he could provide. Then, almost involuntarily, I voiced the question that had haunted me since I delivered the breakup message.
“Henry,” I began, my voice hesitant, “did you love her?”
His brow furrowed in confusion. “Who?”
“Caroline,” I said, the name tasting foreign. “Were you in love with her?”
Henry’s eyes widened, the question catching him off guard. He shook his head slowly, his gaze never leaving mine. “No,” he said, his voice firm. “I didn’t love her.”
I blinked, surprised by the conviction in his tone. “Then why?—”
“My father loved the idea of her,” he said, his voice low, simmering with quiet anger. “And I was a pawn in a game I never wanted to play. That marriage wasn’t about love, Savvy—it was a merger. A carefully calculated move to strengthen the Kingston empire.” He let out a quiet, humorless laugh. “I spent my whole life feeling powerless in that family. Every decision, every move—it was all part of some grand Kingston plan. Until now.”
His voice dropped lower, gaining an edge of steel I’d never heard before. “There’s only ever been one woman I’ve loved, Savvy.” His eyes locked onto mine with an intensity that made it impossible to look away. It was as though he was reaching into my soul, dragging the truth from a place I’d tried to keep buried. “I gave her up,” he continued, his voice steady but laced with raw emotion. “Because I thought I was protecting her. Protecting you.”
My breath hitched, his confession stealing the air from my lungs. The room seemed to fall away, leaving only him, his words, and the unbearable ache they carried. His eyes held mine with such intensity that I couldn’t move, think, or breathe.
I opened my mouth to respond, to say something, anything—but the words wouldn’t come. They lodged in my throat, blocked by the emotions raging inside me. Anger, confusion, longing, and something I refused to name churned together, leaving me defenseless against the truth shining in his eyes.
“Do you hear me, Savvy?” he asked, his voice dipping to a near-whisper, so low and intimate it felt like a confession meant only for me. “I thought I was doing the right thing. I thought walking away would save you. But every single day, I’ve regretted it.”
The crack in his voice was small, but it was enough to break my composure. Emotion pulled tight inside me, the walls I’d built to keep him out crumbling around me.
His gaze grew intent, though it never wavered. “I know I don’t deserve your forgiveness,” he said, his voice thick with regret. “But if there’s one thing I’ve learned, it’s that I can’t protect you by shutting you out. I won’t make the same mistake again.”
My heart thundered, the raw sincerity in his eyes pulling at something deep inside me, something I wasn’t ready to confront. I wanted to be angry, push him away, and remind him of the hurt he’d caused. But his words, his voice, his expression, made that impossible.
I forced myself to speak, my voice unsteady with emotion. “Henry … I don’t even know what to say.”
“You don’t have to say anything,” he said, stepping closer, the air between us humming with electricity, like the moment before a storm breaks. “Let me fight for you this time. For you, your family, and everything your father and mother built with so much sacrifice. I won’t walk away again, Savvy. Not unless you tell me to.”
The words hung between us, heavy with meaning and the possibility of something I couldn’t yet define. My pulse raced as I searched his face, looking for any sign that this was a lie, a manipulation. But there was nothing—just Henry, standing before me, stripped of every pretense.
For the first time in years, I saw both the boy I’d loved and the man he’d become—flawed, broken, but undeniably real. And for one brief, terrifying moment, I allowed myself to imagine what it might mean to trust him again. Shaking off the thought, I straightened my shoulders and fixed my gaze on his. “I appreciate your honesty,” I said, my voice steady despite the turmoil. “Finally. But Henry, this isn’t about me or my family. This is about the entire town. If we’re going to stop your father, we need more than promises. We need a plan.”
Relief washed over his face, though it was quickly tempered by determination. “I’ll give you everything I have, Savvy. Whatever it takes. ”
I nodded, my resolve hardening. “Then let’s figure this out. Together.”
Henry hesitated, his expression shifting. It wasn’t relief or determination anymore—it was something deeper, almost vulnerable. “Savvy,” he said, his voice catching, “I need you to know ... this won’t be easy. And there are some things I’ll have to do on my own.”
I frowned. “What do you mean? If this concerns protecting my family, I have a right to be there. To fight for them.”
Pain flashed across his face, and for a moment, I saw the cracks in his polished exterior. “You do,” he said, his voice quiet but firm. “But tomorrow’s board meeting isn’t a fight you can be part of. They wouldn’t let you past the door. It’s shareholders and executives only, and if they see you there, it’ll make everything worse. They’ll shut me down before I even get started.”
I stared at him, a mix of frustration and helplessness bubbling to the surface. “So, what am I supposed to do? Sit back and wait while you face them alone?”
Henry stepped closer, his gaze steady and unwavering. “You won’t just be waiting. I’ll keep you in the loop every step of the way. But this part? This part has to be me.” He paused, his voice lowering. “Savvy, I promise—I won’t lock you out of this. Never again. But if we’re going to win, I need to play this right.”
He wasn’t brushing me aside or underestimating me. He was laying out the reality of the situation, painful as it was.
“Fine,” I said after a long pause, the word tasting sour in my mouth. “But if you think for one second that I’ll let you keep me in the dark, you’re dead wrong. The moment you leave that meeting, I want to know everything. ”
“Deal.” A hint of relief crossed his face, but his voice remained resolute. “This isn’t just my fight, Savvy. It’s ours.”
Our fight. The words lingered in the air, foreign and strangely comforting at the same time. I wanted to push him away, to hold on to the anger that had shielded me for so long, but the cracks in my defenses were widening. Henry Kingston had a way of doing that—slipping past my walls, leaving me exposed to emotions I didn’t want to feel.
I took a deep breath, crossing my arms to steady myself. “And after the board meeting? What then?”
“Then we regroup,” he said, his voice steady. “We figure out our next move. My father won’t go down without a war.”
“Good,” I said, my chin lifting defiantly. “Because I’m not afraid of a fight.”
For a moment, Henry looked at me, something unreadable in his eyes. “I know,” he said. “You’ve never been afraid of anything. That’s one thing I’ve admired about you.”
I looked away, the intensity in his voice too much to bear. The room seemed to close in around me, the pressure of our conversation mounting with each passing second. “You’d better not let me down, Henry,” I said, my voice barely more than a whisper. “Because if you do...”
“I won’t,” he interrupted, his eyes never leaving mine. “Not this time.”
The sincerity in his voice sent a shiver down my spine, but I forced myself to stay composed. I couldn’t afford to let hope creep in—not yet. Not when so much was still uncertain.
Henry stepped back, his movements deliberate. “I should go,” he said, glancing at the clock on the wall. “It’s late, and you have enough to deal with without me standing here making things harder.”
I didn’t respond, my throat too tight to speak. Instead, I watched as he moved toward the door, his hand hesitating on the knob.
“Savvy,” he said, turning back to face me. “No matter what happens tomorrow, I want you to know … I’m not walking away again. I’ll see this through—for you, your family, and River Bend. And after that, well…” He paused. “After that, I’ll leave it up to you.”
My heart twisted, the vulnerability in his words cutting deeper than I wanted to admit. I nodded, my emotions too tangled to form a coherent response.
Henry opened the door, the cool night air rushing in as he stepped outside. For a moment, he lingered on the threshold as if waiting for me to say something, anything, to stop him. But I stayed silent, rooted in place, until he disappeared into the shadows.
I turned back to the quiet of the bookstore, the rows of books suddenly feeling like a refuge and a cage all at once. Mom’s organized world surrounded me—the neat stack of invoices on her counter, the perfectly aligned bestseller display, everything in its proper place. Everything except me, standing here with my heart thundering in my chest.
I was drawn to the window, my fingers brushing the cool glass as I stared into the empty street.
“Don’t mess this up, Henry,” I whispered to the night. “Please, don’t screw this up.”