Chapter 48
Naomi stared at her phone, her hand frozen as she contemplated what to do.
Micah turned to look at her, his expression unreadable. “Gio?”
“My—” She stopped and cleared her throat. “He’s my ex. From New York.”
Micah’s jaw tightened.
The gate app buzzed a third time. “Naomi? Are you there? Can you let me in?”
Naomi closed her eyes, her mind racing.
She didn’t want Gio here. Didn’t want him showing up unannounced, inserting himself into her life when she’d been trying so hard to move forward.
But he was at the gate. Waiting.
And she couldn’t just ignore him.
She pressed the button again. “Gio, what are you doing here?”
“I wanted to see you. We need to talk.”
“It’s late.”
“I know. I’m sorry. But I drove all the way from New York. Please. Just give me five minutes.”
Naomi looked at Micah.
His expression remained carefully neutral, but she saw the tension in his shoulders.
“It’s your call,” he told her quietly.
The door opened, and Caleb stuck his head outside. “I heard the app buzz. Everything okay?”
“Gio’s here.”
Realization spread over his features. “Want me to stay out here?”
“No, Micah’s here. I’ll be fine.”
Caleb glanced at Micah and gave a nod.
“Okay then.” Caleb stepped back inside.
Naomi turned back to the app.
She didn’t want to let Gio in. But she also knew she couldn’t avoid this forever.
She pressed the button one more time. “Five minutes. That’s it.”
“Thank you.”
She released the gate remotely, and the iron bars swung open.
The headlights moved up the driveway and stopped near the house.
The engine cut, and the car door opened.
Then Gio stepped out into the light.
He looked the same. Tall with dark, perfectly styled hair. Clean-cut without a shadow of scruff. Expensive jacket.
He was the kind of man who fit perfectly in a boardroom or an upscale Manhattan restaurant.
He looked completely out of place here.
Naomi stepped across the porch, her arms wrapped around herself against the cold.
Micah followed, staying close, his presence solid and protective behind her.
Gio’s eyes went to Micah first—taking in the uniform, the badge, the weapon. Then they shifted to Naomi.
His expression softened. “Hey, Naomi. It’s good to see you.”
Naomi stared at him. “What are you doing here, Gio?”
“I told you. We need to talk.”
“You drove six hours to talk? After I told you I didn’t know if I was ready.”
“I wanted to see you. To make sure you’re okay.” His gaze flicked to Micah again, then back to her. “Can we—can we have a moment? Alone?”
Micah shifted behind her.
She didn’t step away. “Anything you need to say, you can say here. In front of Micah.”
Gio exhaled slowly, his hands sliding into his pockets. “Fine. I came because I’m worried about you. You left New York so suddenly. You stopped responding to my texts. I rightfully became concerned.”
“I stopped responding because we broke up. There’s no need for you to worry about me.”
“But there is. I still care about you, Naomi. And I don’t believe you’re thinking clearly.”
Naomi’s hands curled into fists. “Excuse me?”
“You went through something traumatic in New York. Instead of dealing with it, you ran. You came here.” He gestured vaguely toward the house. “Now you’re living a life you were never meant to live.”
“That’s for me to decide.” Outrage shot through her. “You don’t know anything about my life here.”
“Then tell me.” His voice softened. “Help me understand. Because from where I’m standing, it looks like you’re running from your problems instead of facing them. You’re attaching yourself to someone else’s life because your own has fallen apart.”
Naomi opened her mouth to respond, but the words stuck in her throat.
Because part of her—a small, traitorous part—wondered if he was right.
Micah had seen a lot of men walk onto other people’s property like they owned it.
This Gio guy was one of them.
The man had stepped out of his luxury sedan and taken in the porch, the house, the mountains beyond with the kind of expression that made clear he found all of it lacking.
Then his gaze had landed on Naomi, and something shifted. It almost looked as if his eyes had softened. Micah suspected he was actually recalculating.
Micah already didn’t like the guy.
He’d made that assessment in approximately four seconds, and nothing in the last few minutes had changed his mind.
He stood back, arms crossed, letting Naomi lead. This was her conversation. Her past. Her choice.
But he was watching.
“Are you really upset with me for being worried about you?” Gio’s tone sounded patient in an almost practiced manner.
“You went through something traumatic. The attack. The memory loss. Then you just disappeared and moved to the middle of nowhere.” He glanced around, taking in the property again. “What am I supposed to think?”
She crossed her arms. “That I needed space.”
“Naomi.” He said her name as if he were correcting her. “This isn’t like you.”
“Maybe you don’t know me as well as you thought.”
Gio’s jaw tightened. “I know you well enough to know you’re not okay. You’re hiding here instead of dealing with what happened. Instead of getting real help. Instead of coming back to your actual life.”
“This is my actual life.” Naomi’s chin lifted. “Blue Ridge Hollow is where I need to be.”
“This is just an illusion, a place you ran to in order to avoid the truth—that your life fell apart.”
Naomi remained quiet a beat.
When she spoke again, her voice was quieter but harder. “You don’t know anything about my life here. You don’t know what this place means or what I’ve built. And honestly, Gio?” She shook her head. “You don’t have the right to know anymore.”
Something flickered across Gio’s face. He wasn’t used to being spoken to that way.
Micah saw the man’s slight recalibration as he tried to decide which angle to try next.
“You shouldn’t be here,” Naomi said. “I didn’t invite you. I don’t want this conversation. And I think it would be best if you left.”
Gio opened his mouth.
Micah stepped forward.
Not aggressively. Not with his hand on his weapon or his voice raised. He simply moved to stand behind Naomi, close enough that there was no question about whose side he was on.
Gio’s eyes cut to him. He took in Micah’s uniform. His badge. The fact that Micah had a few inches and considerable composure on him.
“The lady asked you to leave.” Micah’s voice almost sounded conversational. “I’d take that seriously.”
Gio stared at Naomi, various emotions moving through his expression. Finally, he stepped back.
“Fine.” He smoothed the front of his jacket like he was composing himself. “I won’t push.”
He descended the porch steps slowly, almost as if the retreat was his own idea.
At the bottom, he paused and looked back at Naomi. “I just hope you remember what’s important before it’s too late to act on it.”
He held her gaze a moment longer than necessary. Then he turned, walked to his car, and got in.
Micah watched until the taillights disappeared down the driveway. Until the gate swung closed behind him.
Then he let out a slow breath.
“You okay?” he asked without looking at Naomi.
“Yes.” A beat. “No.” Another beat. “I don’t know.”
Micah nodded. That was honest, at least.
He turned to look at her then—at the set of her jaw, at the way she stared at the gate as if making sure Gio was really gone.
He had questions. A lot of them. About Gio, about New York, about what exactly that man had meant by what he’d said.
But they could wait. Naomi’s emotional state was more important than him finding answers.