Chapter 25
Chapter Twenty-Five: What He Chose
Braxton
The kitchen had reached that point where everything important had already happened.
Dirty plates were stacked neatly, waiting for their turn in the dishwasher.
Molly and Erin moved through plating the last of the desserts with the quiet efficiency of people who were experienced and trusted.
Jane stood at the counter by the sink with both hands braced against it, watching them like she was making sure nothing slipped after the fact.
She looked smaller than she had earlier. Not diminished but tired in a way that came from holding responsibility too tightly for too long.
I stopped in the doorway and waited.
It felt important not to rush this. I had rushed too many things already today, all of them with good intentions and poor execution.
Jane sensed me before she turned. She always did. Something in her shifted, shoulders tightening just slightly, as if she were bracing herself before she looked.
I knocked on the frame of the door.
When she met my eyes, her expression was careful. Neutral. The kind of face you wore when you were prepared to be polite but not vulnerable.
“Are you busy?” I questioned, even though I knew she was.
“We’re just finishing desert service then there is the clean up,” she replied.
I should probably wait but waiting felt like the conversation so desperately needed might not happen. I could admit to myself that I was worried Jane might try to avoid me. I swallowed. “Can you spare a moment now or should I come back to talk with you later?”
Her gaze flicked briefly to the counter, to the clock, to the movement behind her. She was calculating if she could get away or not. Jane always accounted for the needs of the room before her own.
“Now,” she decided.
It surprised me a little although I was grateful she wanted to talk right away.
The dining room noise carried faintly down the hall behind me with laughter and music. Someone clinked a glass for attention. The wedding was well underway, and this conversation did not belong inside it.
“The library is quiet right now,” I suggested.
Jane hesitated, then nodded once. “Okay.”
We walked there without touching, side by side, close enough that I could feel the warmth coming off her arm. The lack of contact felt intentional, like we were both afraid that if one of us reached out too soon, the conversation would tilt in a direction neither of us was ready to manage.
I let Jane go into the library door first before closing it behind us with a sound that was soft but final. I wasn’t leaving until Jane and I understood each other.
The room smelled faintly of books and old wood, with a hint of lemon cleaner underneath. Lamps cast warm pools of light that did not reach every corner, leaving the shelves half in shadow. It felt private in the way only rooms meant for thinking were.
Jane stopped near the table in the center of the room and folded her arms loosely, not defensive exactly, but not open either. She looked composed. Like she had prepared herself for the inevitable conversation..
I stood across from her, hands at my sides, heart pounding hard enough that I wondered if she could hear it.
“I messed up,” I softly said.
Jane’s eyes flicked to my face, then away again, as if she needed a second before she could listen.
“I invited Carly because I thought I could redirect James,” I continued. “I thought if I gave him someone else to impress, he would leave you alone. I thought I was being clever.”
She nodded once. “I see.”
The simplicity of the answer stung more than anger would have.
“I made things worse. I understand that now. They both said things they shouldn’t have, assumed things about you that they shouldn’t have.
I should have cut them off, or redirected them out of the room.
Better yet, I should never have left you alone with my sister.
She means well, but she’s sometimes very wrong.
I left you in the kitchen with them, and I shouldn’t have. I should have stayed with you.”
Jane’s shoulders rose and fell with a slow breath.
“I thought you agreed with her,” she said quietly. The way she said the words in a flat, factual tone told me she had already replayed that moment too many times, overthinking it.
“With Carly.” My throat tightened and I realized my sister had indeed offered her opinion and divided us, no doubt with the best of intentions. I loved Cary and cursed her at the same time.
“I thought you saw what she was saying and decided she was right,” Jane continued. “That your time with me was temporary. That this was just… a pause or a diversion for you.”
Temporary. The word landed heavy and sharp all at once.
“I never thought that,” I said immediately. “Not for a second.”
Jane looked up at me then, really looked, like she was searching for cracks or hesitation or the careful wording people used when they meant the opposite of what they said.
“I thought you were angry at me,” I admitted. “I thought you were pulling away because I failed you by not staying by your side. I kept telling myself I would apologize after the wedding, when you were not busy with the meal. I didn’t want to be a distraction on top of all your work.”
“So we both waited,” she said.
“Yes,” I replied. “And in waiting, we both assumed the worst.”
Silence settled between us as we both thought about what was said.
“I am not leaving,” I firmly told her.
Jane’s breath caught, subtle but unmistakable as she tightened her arms around her middle, hands gripping until her knuckles were white.
“I will go back to the city on occasion,” I added, because pretending otherwise would only delay the truth. “I work there and responsibilities to my business, but I am not leaving you. I am not treating this like a vacation from my real life.”
“Carly said—” She glanced away, unable to finish the sentence.
“I have an idea of what Carly said and she wasn’t wrong about everything. I am a partner in the firm. Dex and I can make it work so that I don’t have to be in the city fulltime. I can work remotely and commute when needed. Dex is doing the same for Lucy and I can do that for you,” I explained.
“What about your family obligations? Carly was pretty clear that you are required to do a lot of things and what your family’s lifestyle is like,” Jane choked out the words.
I took a deep breath. “My family is public. There are expectations like galas, charity boards, and hosting events.”
Jane winced faintly, and something protective flared in my chest.
“But none of that gets to decide who I am with or what my life looks like. I don’t have to be the face of the Hale fortune.
Carly does it far better than I do and what’s more important, she likes the attention.
Let her do it.” I took a step closer, careful not to crowd her.
“I am all in, Jane. Not recklessly, not impulsively, but intentionally in this relationship. I want to be with you.”
She shook her head slightly, disbelief flickering across her face. “Braxton, your life is so different and I won’t fit in it.”
“My life is mine and I’m allowed to choose it. I can step back from any of the family obligations we don’t want to do, I can live here in Maple Ridge, I can be with you, if that’s what you want,” I reassured her.
Her eyes glistened. She looked away, blinking quickly.
“I’m not asking you to become anything you aren’t. I won’t ask you to host dinners you hate or stand in rooms that make you feel small. I’m asking you to help me build something that fits us both.” I wanted to reach out and take her hands, but I was also afraid she wasn’t ready for my touch.
She let out a small, fragile laugh. “You make it sound easy.”
“It won’t be easy, but if it’s something we both want, we can make it happen,” I insisted.
Jane pressed a hand to her cheek. She looked up at me, her eyes seeking reassurance. “And if this falls apart?”
“If it does,” I said carefully, “it should be because you decide being with me isn’t right for you. Not because you are afraid I will leave, because I’m not going anywhere.”
Her breath shuddered.
“Please,” I added, my voice lower now, rougher. “Don’t break us because you are unsure. I don’t know what I would do if that happened.”
The honesty of it startled me as much as it did her. Jane stared at me, really stared, like she was finally seeing past the assumptions Carly had laid down.
“You’re serious,” she softly said, as though she was finally coming to believe my commitment to her, to us.
“Yes,” I simply replied.
I glanced toward the shelves, toward the quiet permanence of the room.
“William told me about the time capsule he and Helen buried at the inn forty years ago that they found again recently,” I mentioned.
Jane’s expression softened. “Yes.”
“They promised to open it together, no matter what had changed in their lives,” I recalled. I nodded, making a decision. “The dining room is full of wedding guests at the moment but this room is quiet. And the inn matters to you.”
She nodded slowly.
“I want to make a time capsule with you. Not tonight and not rushed. We should put some thought into what we want in it, but I would like to do it soon. Something we place here with the intention of opening it together years from now as a promise to each other.”
Her breath caught and her eyes brimmed with tears.
“Not because we know exactly what the future looks like,” I continued. “But because we are choosing it together.”
Jane closed her eyes for a long moment, then opened them again.
“You aren’t afraid?” she said.
“I am terrified,” I admitted. “I just refuse to let fear decide for me.”
She stepped closer then, closing the last of the space between us. Her hand came to rest against my chest, right over my heart, as if she needed to feel that it was still beating.
“Don’t leave,” she said quietly.
“I’m not,” I promised, putting a hand over hers. “I might just move in permanently to the inn.”
She had a little laugh at that.”That might be a little much.”
“Well, then I will just have to move to Maple Ridge and be nearby to come and see you. Then you can see me anytime you want,” I spoke with hope.
Jane leaned in, and this time there was no hesitation on either side. I met her halfway, my hands settling at her waist, steady and sure. The kiss was soft at first. Careful. As if we were both checking that the other was really there.
Then it deepened, not with urgency, but with certainty.
When we finally pulled back, Jane rested her head against me as we stood in each others arms.
“Okay,” she said.
The word felt like a beginning.
Outside the library, laughter rose and fell. The wedding continued. Life moved forward.
Inside, in the quiet, we stood together, no longer waiting.
And everything felt exactly right.