39. We met in the middle
WE MET IN THE MIDDLE
P reston stood there after saying it finally, and for the first time in a long time, he didn’t rush to fill the silence.
Spring didn’t either.
She stood still, hand at her collarbone, thumb brushing the small compass pendant without realizing. When she finally looked up, her eyes were wet, unfocused, like she was seeing several versions of him at once.
“What’s true will return,” he said quietly.
She smiled as she held on to the locket.
“You still wear it,” he said quietly. “And you still rub it when you’re thinking.”
Her breath caught. “I?—”
“You always did,” he added gently. “Even back then.”
That did it.
She laughed once, shaky, and shook her head. “You really never stopped seeing me, did you?”
“Not once.”
She stepped closer, close enough now that the air between them felt charged with memory. “The last day you saw me,” she said, voice low, steadying as she went on, “you told me how I changed you.”
He nodded. “I meant every word.”
“I never told you how you changed me,” she said. “Not really.”
She stepped back as he waited. “I was in a very dark place when we met, and you were a light,” she said.
“You were my light… after my mom died. When everything in my house felt heavy and loud and unfinished, you were the one place that felt safe. You taught me how to be brave again. How to trust my own instincts. How to want things.” Her eyes lifted to his.
“And the truth is,” she continued, “that was the only time in my life I ever felt truly loved.”
Preston swallowed hard.
“I ran from it,” she said. “I told myself it was timing. Distance. Growth. But I was angry. Not at you – at my dad. At the mess. At how complicated everything felt. Loving you felt big, and I felt like… I didn’t know how to hold something that big without it breaking.
But mostly,” Spring said quietly, “I was angry at my mom.”
She couldn’t look at him. Her eyes stayed on the floor, like the truth needed somewhere to land before it could be shared.
“She used to say, ‘what’s true will return’ .
And I hated that. Because she was gone. She loved me, and she never came back.
For a long time, that sentence felt like a lie people told themselves to survive. ”
She swallowed hard and continued. “But over the years, I realized she wasn’t talking about people walking back through doors.” She finally looked up at him. “She was talking about what stays with you. What refuses to be replaced.”
There was a pause between them. Spring wiped a tear from her eyes and continued. “I loved other people,” she said. “I tried. I lived a whole life. But I never loved anyone more than I loved you. Anyone.”
The words sat between them. Not heavy. Just honest.
“And I think that’s what she meant,” Spring finished. “What’s true doesn’t disappear. It waits. Even when you don’t know you’re waiting too.”
She exhaled, like something had finally been released in her chest. “So yeah,” she said softly.
“She was right. But I was afraid, and I chose safe. I got married because it didn’t scare me.
And when I left you, even though I said all the right things…
I was still a girl trying to protect herself from life, pulling her away from the things she loves most.”
She reached for his hand then, finally. “It took years to realize you were doing what you always did,” she said. “Protecting me. Even when it cost you, and I’m sorry I pushed you away.”
Her voice softened. “But yeah. I love you too.”
He didn’t answer right away. He just pulled her into his arms, forehead resting against hers, the weight of everything they’d been circling finally settling.
She kissed him then – not rushed, not desperate. Certain.
And when they moved together after that, it wasn’t about reclaiming the past or fixing what was broken.
It was about choosing each other again.
This time, with open eyes.
She didn’t rush it.
The words sat between them like something fragile, newly placed. Then she pulled away from their kiss.
Preston didn’t move at first. He just looked at her the way he always did when something mattered – like he was memorizing where to put his hands.
Spring pulled away, steadying herself. “Which is why,” she added carefully, “it’s probably best we focus on the professional side right now.”
There it was. The line.
She braced for resistance. For disappointment. For the version of him that used to retreat.
Instead, he smiled. “I figured you’d say that.”
She tilted her head. “You did?”
“Yeah.” He shrugged lightly. “You’ve always done that thing where you tell the truth and then immediately build a wall to protect it.”
She opened her mouth, then closed it. Because he wasn’t wrong, and she hated that he knew it. “I’m not saying no,” she clarified. “I’m saying not like this . We’re about to be tied together in a very public way. I don’t want either of us questioning whether?—”
“—whether it’s real?” he finished.
She nodded. “Exactly.”
Preston stepped closer – not enough to touch, just enough that she was aware of his presence, his heat. Of how easy this still was.
“Does this feel real?” he asked.
She looked up, flustered by his frame looming over her. Her bottom lip started to quiver.
Girl, what in the hell are you doing?
She tried to open her mouth. “I...”
Before she could respond, he stepped away. “No, truly, I respect that. It’s just going to be fun watching you resist me for hours on end.”
“Preston…”
“Then go back to your Airbnb and watch footage of me all night.”
“Elijah…”
“All while I’m singing love songs the entire world is waiting on, written about you.”
“Cole.”
He lifted his hands innocently. “I’m behaving.”
She shook her head, smiling, and moved to set up her camera.
Suddenly, a soft, teasing, familiar melody hit her heartstrings – he started humming.
Low. Smooth.
“My chère amour …”
Spring turned to him and scowled. “Oh, that’s dirty,” she said immediately.
His grin widened, completely unrepentant.
He kept humming anyway, leaning casually against the piano, watching her reaction like it was his favorite show.
She tried to focus on her notes. Failed. “Preston.”
“Hmm?”
“You are absolutely doing that on purpose.”
“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” he chuckled.
The melody deepened, that lazy R the kind of kiss that carried years in it.
She put her head on his chest and searched his chiseled frame down to this waistline.
She could feel his manhood throbbing against his pants and she wanted it, now more than ever before.
He didn’t hesitate. He lifted her in the air and kissed her.
They found themselves on the floor and, before they knew it, their clothes were off.
Spring sat on top of Preston’s rock-hard dick with the kind of nostalgia you could only have with your high school love, but this was deeper.
Being inside of each other the way they were, made her feel complete.
He knew where to touch her because they’d discovered it together.
It never felt shameful; it always felt missing.
With each thrust, each passionate kiss, layers of their chemistry awakened.
Spring could feel him inside of her, deep, whole.
She never wanted him to leave as she bounced on him, looking in his eyes.
She knew all her apprehension didn’t matter, nor did the lie she tried to convince herself of.
She was in love, and she wasn’t sure if she’d ever stopped.
She wanted him, she missed him; he was the kind of man you desired while you were having sex; he was the living embodiment of refined masculinity that she’d been trying to replace ever since she got on the plane to Georgia.
He was an amazing lover, never needing guidance on how to please her.
“You’re so deep,” she moaned as he masterfully guided his manhood inside of her.
She looked into his eyes, his face telling a tale – one she knew all too well. I’ve missed you.
She’d never been seen from that lens with any man – not by Julian, not by her father. No one except Preston.
Pushing him away stopped making sense in that moment.
She was close to orgasm when she heard him. “I’m… oh god… I’m about?—”
Preston released his violently pleasurable seed inside of her, his uncontrollable thrusts initiating her own climax. Her eyes rolled into the back of her head as she bit her lip, groaning savagely.
She gripped his bulging shoulders as they settled from euphoria. The two lay there for a moment, naked, vulnerable, together.
“Okay… if we’re going to do this, we can’t do it during working hours,” she murmured while catching her breath.
“Agreed… what about lunch breaks?”
“We’ll play it by ear.”
He touched her face and looked deep in her eyes. “Hey.”
“Hey,”
“I’ve missed you.”
She smiled and kissed him. “I missed you too. But no more of this getting busy in the studio crap. Take me to a hotel – a nice one.”
“Haven’t you heard? I’m broke.”
The pair laughed as they held each other for another moment.
Suddenly the door opened.
Mack stepped in, looked to the floor at both of them, then turned around and closed the door. “Talia, the kids are fuckin’ again.”