Chapter 26 #2
Chase’s expression softened. “Very.” He gestured, encompassing the cottage, the resort by extension, the future where we might all belong to each other. “This is what matters. The rest is just walls and rooflines. I design spaces for connection. It’s time I stopped hiding from my own.”
A laugh snuck out of my mouth, wet and embarrassed.
I swiped at my eyes and tried to pull myself back together, but he wasn’t finished.
Instead, Chase bent and reached into the bag I hadn’t noticed he’d brought from the kitchen.
He pulled out a small tool belt with the tag dangling—child-sized, red canvas, the kind a kid would wear for fixing things.
It still had the tag on, a screwdriver and a blunt hammer tucked in the loops.
“I bought this right before the termite disaster.” His voice was lower and rougher than before.
“Saw it at the hardware store and picked it up without thinking twice. Then I got in the car and almost had a panic attack. Because I pictured Finn with it. And you there, laughing, or telling him to use a level. And it scared the hell out of me.”
I swallowed hard, my heart thumping against my ribs as he turned the belt over in his strong, assured hands.
“It showed me how much I wanted this. You. The resort. The family dinners. Even tripping over LEGOs in the dark. It also made me realize I was terrified I couldn’t handle it. That I’d screw it all up, let you down, let Finn down.”
He squeezed the tool belt in one fist, like it held more than just tools.
Then he lifted his eyes and met mine. “But running from that fear would be the real failure.” He took another breath, the sound shaky but resolute.
“Harper, I’m not the guy who has it all figured out.
Not when it comes to this… us. I look at you, at Finn, at the idea of building a real life, and half the time I’m scared to death.
Scared I’ll screw it up, scared I won’t be enough, scared I’ll repeat the mistakes I saw growing up.
I honestly don’t know what I’m doing most of the time when it comes to this emotional territory. ”
He finally sat down next to me, his hands finding mine and engulfing them.
His touch was grounding, real. “But the other half? The part that’s stronger than the fear?
It knows I love you. God, Harper, I’m so completely in love with you.
And I’m falling in love with being part of Finn’s life, too.
It’s messy, it’s complicated, and I know I got scared and pulled back when everything started crashing down.
” His grip tightened. “But I’m all in. I don’t want easy or controlled anymore.
I want this. I want us. I don’t have all the answers, and I’ll probably still get overwhelmed sometimes.
But I promise you, right now, I will always find a way, always fight, to make us work. ”
Whatever air was left in the room disappeared.
Something inside me that had stayed tightly locked since I’d dedicated myself to being a single mother—and the walls I’d only reinforced since Jarod left—cracked wide open.
No one had ever laid out their dread and their commitment side by side like that for me.
No one had ever chosen us over the fear.
I didn’t mean to cry, but the tears broke loose anyway. Not tears of sadness, but of overwhelming relief, of a hope so fierce it hurt. I slid forward into his space, tangling my fingers in the front of his shirt, needing to feel him solid beneath my hands.
“Oh, Chase,” I choked out, laughing through the tears. “I love you too. So, so much.” The words felt like releasing a bird I hadn’t realized I’d been keeping caged inside my ribs. “I’ve been terrified too. Terrified this was too good to last, terrified you’d realize what a mess this all is…”
He pulled me against him fiercely, burying his face in my hair. “It is a mess. Our mess. And I wouldn’t trade it.”
I pressed my forehead to his, laughing a little through the storm.
“Brenna told me that fear can keep you safe, or it can keep you lonely.” I took a huge breath.
“You’re right, this is our mess. And I choose it.
I choose us. I trust you completely.” I grabbed his head and pulled him in for another kiss, wanting to prove to him I believed now.
When we pulled back, his hand landed on the red tool belt. He glanced up, green and gold flecks in his eyes searching for mine. “Can I give this to Finn?”
I nodded, barely holding it together. “Right away. He’ll… he’ll absolutely love it.”
Chase drew a thumb gently over my cheek, a touch lighter than air. I wanted to freeze this moment, hold it against my chest and never let it go. “But your house, Chase…”
He smiled, a real one, tired and triumphant. “It doesn’t matter. Honestly.” Then he barked a laugh. “Though I’ll need to start looking for a place soon unless I want to live out of my car.”
A wild, brilliant idea hit me with the force of a hurricane. He was selling his house, giving up everything to be with us. Why not go all the way? I bit my lip, my heart skipping beats like an unpracticed drummer. “You know… if you’re going to be homeless anyway…”
His eyebrows shot up.
“My cottage isn’t nearly as impressive as your place, and Finn leaves LEGOs everywhere… but there’s enough room. If you wanted to move in?”
For a split second, we just looked at each other.
The air between us shifted, dense and bright and suddenly open.
The look that passed between us was more than yes—it was a promise.
No hesitation, no more questions, no defense mechanisms. He tugged me close, laughter rumbling through him, shaking loose months of doubt and distance.
“You’re sure?” he asked.
I nodded into his shoulder, feeling freer than I had in years. “Absolutely.”
Chase leaned in, pressed his lips softly, reverently, to my forehead. “There’s nothing I want more.”
We held each other there in the spill of the lamp’s glow, exhaustion and hope tangled together, the crisis not magically fixed but now—suddenly—survivable. His promise wasn’t a lifeboat. It was a home.
He pulled back slightly, eyes bright. “Don’t we have a little boy to pick up? I’ve got a present for him.”
I laughed, pulling him to his feet. “Come on then.”
My heart soared as I pictured Finn’s face when Chase handed him the tool belt.
Chase slipped his arm around me like it belonged there, and for the first time in days—months, hell, years—everything felt right.
We were out the door in seconds, the last threads of sunset painting the sky ahead.
Even the air seemed lighter, full of possibility instead of pressure.
“Think Finn will be okay with me crashing here?” he asked as we walked toward the resort hand in hand.
I shot him a teasing glance. “You’re bringing pizza and presents. He’ll probably wonder why it took you so long.”
Chase smirked, but I caught the relief in his expression. Like he couldn’t quite believe this was real or that he hadn’t woken up.
And as we walked side by side, about to open the door and step into whatever new life waited, it hit me. Sometimes, the best things came when the world forced you to start over. Pizza reheated, hearts full, everything possible.