21. Laurie
Chapter twenty-one
Laurie
I'm sitting on the floor of my new apartment, surrounded by half-unpacked boxes, when Bethany drops the news.
"Walk-through's tomorrow. Nine a.m."
She doesn't look up from her phone.
"They'll pass most of it," she adds.
Most.
I stare at the checklist in my lap. The final one I made before we left Lestor Lodge. Everything documented. Everything organized. Every fix noted, every routine outlined, every system double-checked.
I tell myself it's not my problem anymore.
Grant made his choices. I made mine. The fake engagement is over. The lodge was never my home. I was hired help. Temporary.
But my hands won't let go of the checklist.
"Mom?"
I stand. Brush dust off my jeans. My heart is pounding, but my hands are steady now.
"I'm going."
"Yeah," Bethany says softly. "I know."
I drive to Lestor Lodge before dawn.
I'm not going because I've forgiven everything. I haven't sorted through half of what happened between us.
But Grant stood in front of evaluators and lawyers and told the truth when it cost him something.
The least I can do is make sure that truth is visible.
He deserves more than a woman who ran the second things got complicated. He deserves more than a fake fiancée who couldn't handle his protective instincts. He deserves more than a temporary maid with one foot out the door.
But this is what I have to give. Clean sheets, straight records, open curtains, and a lodge that can stand on its own.
I unlock the side door with the key I never returned. Walk through the kitchen. Flip on lights. Check counters, check logs, check the stone fireplace for stray ashes.
Hair up. Practical shoes. The binder pressed against my chest like armor.
The lodge smells like pine cleaner and old wood and faint coffee.
I'm proud of the work I've done here.
I'm adjusting the signed hockey photo in the main living area when I hear tires on gravel outside.
My stomach twists.
Footsteps on the porch. A key in the lock.
The front door pushes open.
Grant steps inside. Stops.
His eyes find mine across the room, and he goes completely still.
"You came."
His voice is low. Rough. Like he's been awake all night too.
I lift my chin. Try to sound brisk. Professional. "Well, someone had to make sure you'd pass inspection."
He doesn't move. Doesn't look away.
"Is that all you're here for?" His jaw works. "The lodge?"
I give him a sad smile. "That's what you wanted, right? The lodge repaired and ready for inspection?"
He takes a step closer. "That's what I said. Before."
"Before what?"
"Before I knew you."
My breath catches.
Footsteps sound behind him. The inspector comes up behind him with her clipboard and measuring tape.
"Audrey Bell. Thank you for meeting with me this morning." She reaches out a hand first to Grant and then to me.
I force myself to turn away. To breathe. To guide Audrey through the binder, through every system Bethany and I built, through every corner of this lodge that somehow became more than a job.
Audrey checks upstairs. Checks the rink. Checks safety compliance and documentation.
Finally, she closes her folder.
"It passes."
Relief floods through me.
Audrey leaves. The house goes quiet.
Grant finds me in the kitchen, hands braced on the counter.
"Laurie."
I don't turn around.
"Laurie, I..." He swallows. I hear it. "I love you."
I blink. My hands tighten on the counter edge.
"Grant—"
"I love you, Laurie." His voice steadies.
Certain now. "I know I have no right to ask for another chance today.
But I'm asking anyway. Not because I can fix everything.
Not because I deserve it. Because you taught me the difference between protecting someone and standing beside her, and I want to spend the rest of my life getting that right. "
I turn.
He's standing there in his tailored coat, looking wrecked and determined and impossibly vulnerable.
I can't help it.
I laugh.
It bursts out of me—emotional, messy, real.
"You impossible man." Tears spill over. "I'm already in love with you."
Grant crosses the kitchen in three strides.
His hands frame my face. His forehead drops to mine.
"Say it again," he says.
"I love you," I whisper. "Even when you're controlling and overprotective and terrible at relationships—"
He kisses me.
And this time, there's no fear.
Just us. And the truth.