Chapter 16
The Call He's Been Avoiding
Grayson
My phone rings while I'm fixing the loose board on the back porch.
I glance at the screen.
Board Member – A. Chen
My stomach drops.
I stare at the name, hammer frozen mid-swing, the phone vibrating in my palm.
Andrew Chen. Senior board member. The one who sided with Victoria during the vote that pushed me out. The one who smiled to my face while stabbing me in the back.
I let it ring.
And ring.
And ring.
Voicemail.
I set the phone on the railing and go back to hammering. But my hands aren't steady. Each strike feels too loud, too violent, like the board has done something to deserve it.
Why is Andrew calling? I haven't spoken to anyone on the board in over a year. We had an agreement—they leave me alone, I stay out of Evervolt's operations.
So why now?
Minutes later, the phone buzzes again. Voicemail notification.
I pick it up. Finger hovering over the play button.
Then I set it back down without listening.
Whatever Andrew has to say, I'm not ready to hear it.
I finish the repair, clean up my tools, and head inside. Kate's still out.
The cabin feels too quiet without her.
I make coffee. Sit at the kitchen table. Stare at my phone.
It rings again.
Maxwell.
I close my eyes. Exhale slowly. Answer.
"What."
"We need to talk." No greeting. No warmth in his voice at all. "The board knows where you are."
Ice floods through me.
"What?"
"Andrew Chen called me this morning. Asked if I knew how to reach you. Said it was urgent." A pause—Maxwell choosing his words carefully. "I didn't tell him anything. But Grayson... they're looking for you."
I stand and walk to the window, gripping the phone.
"Why?"
"The company is hemorrhaging money. The solar division is underperforming. The new partnerships aren't panning out." His voice tightens. "They think you're the only one who can fix it."
"That's not my problem anymore."
"Isn't it?" His tone sharpens. "You built that division from the ground up. You know it better than anyone. And now it's failing, and they want you back."
"I'm not coming back."
"They're planning to send someone to Maple Glen."
My hand tightens on the phone.
"Andrew specifically. He's convinced that face-to-face he can change your mind." Maxwell's voice drops slightly. "Gray. You need to decide. Come back on your terms, or they force your hand."
"They can't force me to do anything."
"Can't they?" He lets the question hang. "You still own forty percent of the company. You have voting rights. They can't make major decisions without you. And if you keep going dark, they'll find a way to make you irrelevant."
"Let them try."
"Grayson—"
"I left for a reason, Max. That hasn't changed."
A beat of silence. Then, sharp—frustrated now:
"What reason? Because Victoria betrayed you? Because the board sided with her? Because you couldn't handle the pressure?"
The name lands like a fist.
I stop pacing.
"Because I was becoming someone I didn't recognize." The words come out harder than I mean. "Because every decision was a battle. Because I couldn't trust anyone. Because the company I built to help people turned into a political nightmare where profit mattered more than purpose."
Silence on the line.
When Maxwell speaks again, his voice is quieter. Careful.
"Running doesn't solve anything."
"Neither does going back."
"You built this company. You poured five years of your life into it. Don't let them take it because you're scared."
"I'm not scared."
"Then what are you?"
I don't have an answer to that.
I move back to the window, staring out at the tree line.
"You can't hide forever," he continues. "The longer you wait, the harder it gets."
"I'm not hiding."
"Aren't you?" No sharpness now. Just honesty, which is somehow worse. "You're living in a cabin in the middle of nowhere, keeping your distance from anyone who might recognize you. That sounds like hiding to me."
My jaw clenches.
"I'm done with this conversation."
"Grayson—"
"Don't call again unless it's an emergency."
I hang up.
I stand at the window, phone in my hand, staring out at the forest.
He's right. I know he's right.
But going back means facing Victoria. Facing the board members who chose her over me. Facing the company that became a battlefield instead of the dream I built.
Going back means becoming that person again. The one who fought every day just to hold ground. The one who couldn't sleep because he was always waiting for the next betrayal.
I don't want to be that person anymore.
But Maxwell's words follow me out to the porch.
Running doesn't solve anything.
Don't let them take it from you.
The afternoon sun filters through the trees. Birds. The faint sound of the lake.
Peaceful. Quiet. Safe.
Everything I needed when I left the city.
But I can't stay hidden forever. The past always catches up.
Mine is already on its way.
—
I'm still on the porch when I hear it.
Laughter.
Light, genuine, drifting through the trees from the trail that leads to town.
Kate.
She comes into view carrying two cloth grocery bags, humming that song she's had stuck in her head all week. Messy ponytail. Light blue sweater. She looks happy. Carefree.
Like Maple Glen has already worked its magic on her.
She spots me and her face lights up. "Hey! I got everything for dinner. Mrs. Patel said the chicken was fresh this morning, and—" She stops. Reads my expression. "What's wrong?"
"Nothing."
She sets the bags down on the porch steps and crosses her arms. "Grayson. I know you well enough now. What happened?"
I want to protect her from what's coming. But she deserves better than that.
"I got a call." I lean against the railing, not quite able to look at her. "From people I used to work with."
She waits, giving me space.
"They want me to come back. To the company. And they're planning to send someone here to convince me."
Kate goes still. "Here? To Maple Glen?"
I nod once.
"When?"
"I don't know. Soon."
She's quiet for a moment, her eyes moving over my face like she's reading something written there. "And you don't want to go back."
"No."
"Why not?"
"Because the person I was there—the role I played—it wasn't who I want to be."
Kate steps closer, her hand finding mine on the railing. "Then, don't go back. Tell them no."
"It's not that simple."
"Why not?"
"Because I still have responsibilities. Things I can't just walk away from."
"You already did walk away."
"And they're not letting me stay gone."
She squeezes my hand. "So what are you going to do?"
I look down at her. At this woman who has become the most important part of my day without my planning for it. Who makes me laugh despite myself. Who sees something good in me that I'm not sure actually exists.
And I see the real problem.
If Andrew Chen shows up in Maple Glen, he'll see Kate. He'll see us together. And he'll use her.
He'll dig into her life. Find out she works for Evervolt. Put together that Maxwell sent her here. He'll assume she's a plant. A spy. Or worse—leverage.
A way to pull me back.
Kate will become a target.
All because I was selfish enough to let her get close. To pretend we could have something real when my past was a lit fuse from the moment she arrived.
"Grayson." Her voice pulls me back. "You're scaring me."
"I'm sorry."
"For what?"
I pull my hand from hers. Step back. Put distance between us even though every instinct is screaming at me not to.
"I need to think." My voice comes out colder than I intend. "Alone."
Hurt flashes across her face—quick and real, like a light switching off.
"Okay. I'll put the groceries away."
She picks up the bags and goes inside, glancing back once with an expression that cracks something in my chest.
I stay on the porch, staring at the treeline.
When did this happen?
When did I fall for her?
Was it that first morning she barged into the bathroom and apologized with such genuine mortification that I couldn't stay angry?
Was it when she filled this silent cabin with color and sticky notes and that stubborn, persistent warmth?
Or was it slower. A hundred small moments adding up.
The way she bakes when she's nervous—filling the cabin with warmth and the smell of something good. The way she moves through this town with her whole self, nothing held back.
The way she talked to people in the general store, helping them in anyway she can. The way she accepted Mrs. Everly's casserole like it was a gift instead of interference—because she understood what it needed to be.
That first quiet night on the porch, when she sat beside me in the dark and asked nothing. Just stayed.
She's brave in a way she doesn't seem to know. She came here as punishment and made it into something else entirely. She faced an entire town's gossip with humor and grace and not a single complaint.
But the thing that undid me—the thing I can't get past—is that she never tried to win me over.
She didn't push or play games. She just existed beside me, being completely herself.
And that was enough to take apart everything I'd built.
She makes me want to be better.
She's the one good thing I've found in four years of hiding.
And I'm about to lose her.
I won't let them use her. My past won't destroy her.
I hear her moving around inside. The fridge. The grocery bags. Her phone ringing—probably Maxwell.
She laughs at something. That light, real sound I've come to crave.
I know exactly how much this is going to hurt.
Both of us.
But there's only one way to keep her safe.
I have to end this.