Chapter 11
Sam
I didn't sleep that night.
Neil's words circled in my head like vultures: You gave her a test. You made her prove she loved you in three hours.
By dawn, I knew what I had to do. I was going to Manhattan. Today.
I was throwing gear into my truck when vehicles approached. All three brothers pulled up, blocking me in.
"Going somewhere?" Kevin asked.
"Manhattan. I need to tell her I was wrong—"
"No." Shane stepped in front of my truck. "You're not."
"Get out of my way—"
"Sam." Kevin's voice cut through my desperation. "Stop. Think. You're about to drive twelve hours to Manhattan looking like you've been living in the woods, and do what exactly?"
"Apologize. Tell her I was wrong about the ultimatum—"
"You look insane," Neil said bluntly. "You haven't slept. You're running on rage and coffee. You're going to scare her, not win her back."
"I don't care how I look—"
"But she will." Shane's voice was quiet but firm. "Brother, you're about to prove to her that you're exactly as unstable as she probably fears. That you can't give her space. That you're still the guy who demands immediate answers."
The words hit like cold water.
"What am I supposed to do? Just sit here?"
"For now? Yes." Kevin crossed his arms. "Shower. Eat something that isn't protein bars. Get your head straight. Then we'll help you figure out what you're actually offering her."
"I'm offering her—" I stopped, because I didn't know. Hadn't thought past the apology.
"Exactly." Kevin's expression was almost kind. "You've realized you gave her an ultimatum. Good. That's step one. But what's step two? What does compromise actually look like when she lives in Manhattan and you live here?"
I opened my mouth and nothing came out.
"Can you work remotely sometimes?" Shane asked. "Can she? What does a relationship look like that doesn't require her to give up everything she's built? You need actual answers, Sam. Not just 'we'll figure it out.'"
Every instinct screamed at me to get in my truck and go anyway. To fix this NOW before it was too late.
But they were right. Showing up desperate and unhinged would just prove I hadn't learned anything.
"Okay," I said, defeated. "What do I do first?"
"First, you go inside and shower," Neil said. "You smell like a distillery and a gun range had a baby."
"Then we sit down and actually plan this," Kevin added. "Figure out what compromise looks like. Write down what you want to say so you don't just word-vomit all over her. Make this count instead of making it desperate."
I nodded slowly, hating every second of this but knowing they were right.
"And Sam?" Shane's voice stopped me as I turned toward the cabin. "We're doing this because we love you. Because we don't want to watch you fuck up the best thing that ever happened to you twice."
"I know." My voice came out rough. "Thanks. I think."
I headed toward the cabin, my brothers following. Inside, the space still smelled like her—faint and fading, but there. A reminder of everything I'd lost.
Everything I had to fight to get back.
"Shower," Kevin ordered, pointing at the bathroom. "We'll make coffee and food. Then we talk."
I was halfway to the bathroom when Kevin's phone buzzed. He pulled it out, glanced at the screen, and his expression shifted.
"What?" I asked, something in his face making my stomach drop.
"Uh." He looked at Neil, then Shane, then back at me. "So. Funny thing."
"Kevin—"
"She's here." The words tumbled out fast. "Called me twenty minutes ago. She's been driving up the mountain. She's literally about to pull into your driveway."
The world stopped.
"She's... what?"
"Here. Now. Like, right now." Kevin pointed toward the window, and I could see headlights through the trees.
"I was going to tell you, but then you were already throwing shit in your truck and I thought we should talk you down first before you did something stupid, and then you were going inside to shower anyway, so I figured—"
"You figured?" My voice came out strangled.
"In my defense, I was going to tell you!" Kevin backed up a step. "But you needed to hear what we had to say first! You needed to be in the right headspace!"
The car was pulling into my driveway now. A car I didn't recognize, packed with boxes.
She'd brought everything.
"Oh my God." I looked down at myself—unshaven, reeking of gun oil and whiskey, wearing clothes I'd slept in for two days. "I look like shit. I smell like shit. I was supposed to shower—"
"No time." Neil grabbed my shoulders. "Listen to me.
You've got about thirty seconds before she gets out of that car.
So here's what you're going to do: tell her you were wrong.
Tell her you love her. Tell her you'll wait while she figures things out.
And whatever you do, don't demand anything.
Don't test her. Just love her. Can you do that? "
I couldn't speak. Could barely breathe.
"Sam." Neil shook me slightly. "Can you do that?"
"Yes," I managed. "Yeah. I can do that."
"Good." He released me. "Then go. She's here."
Through the window, I watched her car door open.
"What if she doesn't want to stay?" The fear came out raw. "What if she just came to tell me she's done?"
"Then you respect that," Shane said quietly. "But brother? People don't drive across the country with all their belongings to tell you they're done."
I was moving before I could think, my legs carrying me out the door, a thousand apologies ready on my tongue.
I was wrong. I love you. I'll wait. I'll compromise.
The car door opened wider.
And there she was.