Chapter 20 #2
They looked at each other across that small distance, both of them afraid, both of them hurting, but both wanting desperately to bridge that gap.
“What if we can’t change?” she asked. “What if these patterns are too deep? What if we try and fail and hurt each other even more?”
“Well, then at least we tried,” Thomas said, his voice full of emotion. “At least we gave it everything we had. At least we were honest with each other. And which one would hurt more - to walk away now or to try and fail?”
She took a shaky breath. “I want to try. I want to do the work of learning to stay and trusting you. But I need you to promise me something.”
“Anything.”
“Promise me that if you start falling into old patterns or thinking you need to decide for me, that you’ll catch yourself. That you’ll tell me what you’re thinking before acting on it.”
“I promise.”
“And I need you to promise that you’ll start telling me if you feel the need to run—that you’re scared.”
“I promise.”
They stood in the library’s darkness, the inn quiet around them.
“So what now?” she asked.
“Now we choose.” He took a step closer. “We choose to try, and we choose to trust. And we know it’s going to be hard work, but we’re used to hard work. We’re committed to doing that work together.”
“Together,” Isabella repeated. “As partners. Especially when it’s difficult.”
Thomas reached out slowly, giving her time to step back if she wanted.
He cupped her face gently. “And I can’t promise I’ll be perfect, but I can promise I’ll fight with everything I have.
And I’ll choose to be a partner to you. And I’ll trust you to handle your own life, even when every instinct tells me to manage it for you. ”
She closed her eyes briefly. “I can’t promise I won’t get scared or have moments where I want to run, but I promise I’ll fight it. That I’ll choose this commitment.”
“That’s all I’m asking.” His thumb traced her cheekbone.
“You know, we’re probably going to fail a lot,” she said, laughing.
“Probably. But we’ll fail together. And we’ll get back up and try again.”
Isabella moved toward him first. She stepped into his arms, pressed her face against his chest, and allowed some tears to fall for the pain they’d caused each other and for the years they had spent apart. His arms came around her, immediately holding her close.
“I’m sorry for keeping the Paris interview a secret, and for using it to hurt you.”
“I’m sorry too - for doing all the things that I did.”
They stood together, holding each other as the library grew darker. Finally, Thomas pulled back slightly.
“Can I kiss you?”
“Please.”
This kiss was different from before. Not tentative like their first kiss, and not comfortable like some of the ones that had followed, but like a kiss that held hope and second chances.
* * *
The week before the grand opening passed in a blur. Thomas and Isabella moved through the inn side by side, their partnership rebuilding every day. Every so often, Thomas would catch himself trying to decide without consulting her, but he caught himself every time.
The Christmas decorations arrived on Monday as planned: fresh magnolia garlands for the staircase banister, pine roping for the mantels, and simple white candles for every window.
Daphne had chosen everything with historical accuracy in mind, creating holiday atmospheres that felt more Victorian than modern.
“It’s perfect,” Isabella said, standing in the entrance hall. “Elegant without being overdone.”
“Luella wants to hang mistletoe,” Thomas said, wrapping his arms around her waist from behind. “I told her that was her decision to make about her kitchen.”
“And she told you it was going in the doorway between the dining room and parlor, whether you liked it or not, didn’t she?”
“How did you know that?”
“Because I know Luella,” Isabella said, laughing, “and because she told me this morning she was doing it specifically so we’d have to have an excuse to kiss at the opening.”
“Subtle, as always.”
“Are you nervous?” Thomas asked quietly.
“Terrified. What if nobody shows up? Or what if they come and hate it? Or what if Grayson shows up and makes a big scene?”
“Then we’ll handle it together.” He turned her to face him. “You’ve created something amazing here, Isabella, and people are going to want to see that.”
“We created—” she corrected. “This inn exists because of both of us. I wouldn’t have gotten here without you.”
“Well, I wouldn’t have wanted to get here with anyone else.”
They kissed, soft and sweet, interrupted by Wade from the second floor, yelling about garland placement.
“Duty calls,” Thomas said, touching her face once more before heading up the stairs.
* * *
Wednesday was the final staff training. Isabella had hired people carefully - people who understood the hospitality industry and appreciated the inn’s history.
The assistant manager she’d selected was Margaret Lee, who had twenty years of boutique hotel experience and a passion for historic properties.
“The key,” Isabella told her staff in the dining room, “is making the guests feel like they’re experiencing history rather than just observing it.
We don’t want this to feel like a museum, so every interaction we have with them should reinforce that they’re in a special place, but don’t make them feel like they can’t touch anything or relax here. ”
She walked through service standards, showed them the guest rooms with their carefully curated period details, and introduced them to Luella, who would oversee all food service.
“Miss Luella is the heart of this operation,” Isabella said. “If she tells you something about how the kitchen runs, you listen to her. She’s forgotten more about Lowcountry hospitality than most of us will ever know.”
Luella, pretending to be utterly unaffected by the compliment, just humphed and returned to looking at her opening night menu.
Thomas appeared midday to conduct the safety orientation, explain fire exits, emergency procedures, and the systems that kept the old building functioning safely. This was what partnership looked like - not just one person running everything, but two people bringing their different strengths.
After the staff left full of enthusiasm and ready for Saturday’s opening, Isabella found Thomas on the back porch looking at the gardens.
“Penny for your thoughts?”
He smiled. “Just thinking about how different this feels from when I started back in May. This was just another project. Now it’s—” he gestured, “so much more.”
“It’s home,” Isabella said.
“Yeah.” He pulled her close. “It’s home.”
Thursday brought final inspections of the fire marshal, health department, and building inspector. Isabella and Thomas had walked through with each official, documentation in hand, answering questions with confidence. Every inspection passed with flying colors.
“This is exceptional work,” the fire marshal said, examining the sprinkler system. “You’ve updated everything necessary. Not easy to do in a building this old.”
When everything was done, Isabella looked at Thomas. “We did it.”
“We did it,” he repeated.
Then they were kissing, celebrating, and laughing with relief and joy.
“Two more days,” Thomas said. “Two more days and we open the doors to this place.”
Friday was for final touches. Emma arrived from Atlanta to help with last-minute details, with her marketing materials displayed in the lobby and social media posts already generating interest.
“The reservation system is working. Already showing bookings through February,” she said, looking at her laptop. “And the holiday season is completely sold out.”
“Sold out?” Isabella’s eyes widened. “Really? Already?”
“People want to experience this place. Isabella, you’ve created something really special. Plus, I have to say my marketing is pretty amazing,” Emma said, grinning.
“Humble as always,” Thomas said.
Maggie stopped by Friday afternoon to review the placement of the historical society’s informational materials, but really to check on Isabella and Thomas.
“You two look happy,” she said. “Actually happy, not just pretending for show.”
“Well, we’re working on it,” Isabella said. “Some days are easier than others.”
“Well, that’s real life, sugar. Anybody who tells you relationships are easy all the time is either lying or hasn’t been in one long enough.”
Maggie squeezed her hand. “I’m proud of you. Both of you. Not just for restoring this beautiful old building, but for doing the hard work of restoring your relationship with each other.”