CHAPTER 52
Quinn
The scent of fresh timber and faint lavender cleaner hits me the second I step inside, wrapping around me so completely I have to close my eyes for a moment.
I drift farther inside, fingertips brushing over the smooth edges of the pebble coffee table, the vase of sunflowers on the stone bench in the kitchen. Even the cane light pendants hang perfectly overhead, their glow spilling golden light across the space.
My chest tightens as I realise this is straight out of the Pinterest board I once shared with Cole when I couldn’t afford to stage the place myself. Scraps of a dream I thought would never come true. He must have found it, taken my vision, and made it real.
Sophie was right, healing doesn’t always mean forgetting the broken pieces, sometimes it means finding the one person who sees them and says I’ll help you carry this. Cole is that person. He’s been showing me all along, in every quiet action, every promise kept.
The realisation slams into me. I love Cole.
Not in the careful, half-measured way I thought I loved Josh, but fully, with everything I am.
Because he’s the kind of man who makes words unnecessary, who proves himself in every action.
He’s worth the fear that still lingers in the background, because the trust I have in him rises higher than the burden I’ve been carrying.
My throat burns as tears sting, but before they can fall, the door clicks behind me. I turn, my breath catching, and crash straight into someone.
Josh.
Of all people.
He looks just as dishevelled as always, shirt half buttoned, hair sticking up in tufts.
And there, sparkling under the hallway light, is Sophie’s revenge: remnants of gold glitter dusted through his messy fringe.
I didn’t think she was being serious when she mentioned it months ago. But I’m glad she stuck to her word.
He deserves much worse than an exploding glitter bomb that smells like farts.
“What are you doing here?”
He forces a smile. “Our trip ended early. Thought I’d surprise you.” He shifts closer, like he expects me to fold, but I step back fast, stomach lurching.
“I like what you’ve done with the place,” he says, eyes flicking around.
Goose bumps crawl up my arms. “Go away, Joshua. This has nothing to do with you.”
“Q-tip,” he croons, that old pet name now sour on my skin. “I couldn’t miss this. Are you sure you really want to let it go? The house? Us? We could still make this our home. The family you always wanted.”
For a second, I’m too stunned to speak. He stands there in glitter and delusion, trying to sell me the very dream I once begged him for. But nothing will change who he is. Even now he tries to rewrite history, to convince me that I want him, that I imagined leaving.
“No, Josh.” My voice is steady. “This is it. After today, you don’t get to call me. You don’t get to text me. And you sure as hell won’t be sending me any more fucking TikToks.” I take a breath, my pulse roaring in my ears. “We’re done. Really done.”
Before he can reply, my phone buzzes in my hand. I swipe to answer, grateful for any excuse to turn away from his mocking face.
My pulse jumps, a sharp jolt that rattles through me. I’m braced for bad news, but instead I catch the polished, professional tone of the agent. The house has already been sold.
For a breath, I’m convinced I misheard her. Relief and disbelief twist together in my chest, the words sliding over me in waves until they finally stick. I hang up, the click loud in my ear.
“The auction’s off,” I clip. “A private buyer paid double the reserve.” My lips twitch with something that almost feels like freedom. “So that’s that.”
His face twists. “Brittany and I broke up. Europe was a disaster. I want you, Quinn. We could still fix us. I was wrong to let you go before.”
His voice rises with a desperate edge, as if he expects me to be flattered by being his consolation prize, but it only makes him look smaller.
Because to Josh I was never truly a choice at all, just a stand-in, someone convenient to keep him from being alone.
It steadies me, because Cole has never once treated me like an afterthought. To him, I’ve always been the only one.
“Oh, Joshua,” I say, my voice sharp as glass. “I left you, remember?”
He smirks faintly. “But I know you didn’t really mean it.”
“I meant every word,” I fire back. “Leaving you was the best thing I ever did. This is it now—past, present, and future. Send Sophie any paperwork if you must, but as for me? Lose my number, and lose the idea that you still matter to me.”
Josh sputters behind me, but I’m already moving.
His words confirm what I’ve always known: that I deserve more than empty promises.
The finality of it snaps something inside me into place.
I can’t waste another second. I have to tell Cole right now that I love him, before he leaves, before fear has a chance to trap me again.
I sprint for the door, heart hammering, my only thought to get to Cole.
In my mind I see him already boarding, the gate closing, the chance slipping away. The image jolts me with panic and certainty all at once. I have to reach him, have to tell him before it’s too late.
By the time I reach my car, adrenaline has taken over. I swing open the door and all but leap into the driver’s seat, breath ragged, hands trembling so badly the keys almost slip from my grip before I jam them into the ignition.
I yank out my sunflower tablet, the glow of the calendar blurring through my tears. Fuck—his flight to Paris leaves soon. I’m still twenty minutes from the airport, and every second feels like it’s slipping through my fingers. I’ve wasted too much time already.
I slam the car into gear, tyres squealing as I shoot out of the driveway.
The streets blur past in streaks of neon and shadow, every red light a curse, every slow car in front of me a wall I want to punch through.
My knuckles ache around the steering wheel, foot pressed heavy on the accelerator.
The city feels endless, stretching wider with every turn.
I repeat the only words that matter: Don’t let me be too late. He needs to know I love him.