Thirty-One #2
“New intel just dropped on the company we’re representing.
VorVex Tech is supposed to be eco-conscious, sustainable, ethically responsible…
” His features shift, the sharp angles of his face turning even more severe.
“If this checks out and they’re violating human rights? We’ll have to kill the launch.”
NXT Collective was built on integrity and transparency. A better future for all . That’s not just their slogan, but the backbone behind all they do. Theo would raze the company to the ground before cashing a check soaked in hypocrisy.
“If we back out now, we’re the villains in their version of the story,” he says flatly. “The ironclad morality clause we have in place won’t make a difference. Walking away will bury us.”
“I’m sorry.” I press a gentle palm to his shoulder. “I know how important this deal is for your firm.”
“A lot is riding on it,” he acknowledges. “Too much, to be honest. But no amount of success justifies multiple counts of workers’ rights violations.” His eyes harden as he scans the screen. “How the hell did we miss this in discovery?”
“Do you think it’s true?”
“Even a sliver of truth will end us.” With a sharp exhale, he tosses the phone aside.
“I gotta head to the city. Figure out how to call an emergency all-hands-on-deck meeting without blowing up everyone’s holiday.
” He fists his hair, giving the dark strands a frustrated tug. “We’re officially in crisis mode. ”
“I don’t envy your position.” The pressure he’s under—balancing the commitment to his staff, his clients, and the public—can easily crush a person.
“Come back with me?” The words swirl between offer, plea, and command. “I need to deal with this disaster, but once it’s taken care of…” He reaches for me, his thumb brushing the edge of my jaw. “We can go back to what we were doing. Finish our vacation. We’ll ring in the new—”
“I’m staying here,” I blurt out, pulling away. “ Permanently .”
Surprise flashes across his face. He withdraws his fingers, flexes his hand into a fist, then drops it. “You’re moving back to Sugarpine Springs?”
I nod. “I want to build something real somewhere that matters. I left this place, but my heart never let go. Coming home feels like the right kind of beginning. For my business, but also…my future.”
His brows shoot up. “I had no idea your connection to the town was so strong.”
“Me neither,” I say honestly. “I buried all feelings the same day I buried my parents. Then life just kept distracting me. School, work, bills—survival from all sides. Forcing myself to stop dreaming was easy. Safe. But now that fate kicked me out of my comfort zone, I need to make this next chapter count. I’m ready to breathe again.
Smile. Create. Live . And I want to do it where I feel the strongest connection to my parents.
I’ve spent so much time stuffing down all memories in fear of not being able to endure them, but I’m ready. ”
Finally .
I press a hand to my chest and smile. “Did I ever tell you about my parents’ gallery plans?”
Theo shakes his head but doesn’t monopolize the moment by speaking .
“A few years before the crash, they started mapping out plans to build a space where my mom could teach classes, sell her paintings, and showcase other local artists. They were days from signing a contract to turn that dream into a reality.”
Greene Gallery .
Forever a fantasy but never forgotten.
“Anyway, Holly offered her grandmother’s old place.
It’s a one-bedroom in serious need of a deep clean, but the rent is super cheap.
Plus, it’s right above the bakery, so I’ll have unlimited access to cupcakes.
” I try for a joke. “Think how much you’ll save on delivery fees.
” A lump rises in my throat, bringing with it the bittersweet taste of goodbye .
“You know I’d gladly deliver those cupcakes to the ends of the earth for you, right?”
I’m too busy trying not to overthink the statement to reply.
“It sounds like a solid plan, Isla.” His words ring with sincerity, and the look he gives me is drenched in so much pride and admiration I don’t know where to put it all. “I’m happy for you.”
“That’s why I can’t…” Get distracted.
I don’t have to finish the sentence—the message lands.
“I hate that this work emergency threw off our timeline,” he says. “The clock ran out before I could make things right.”
He reaches for me again, fingers threading through my hair to pull me closer. His grip is firm. Almost desperate. “The deadline is here—days sooner than I thought—and I can’t leave without you knowing what we are.”
“What are we?”
“Not fucking done.”
“Theo…”
“ Isla .”
I should hate the confident way he claims my name .
Instead, the sound drips down my spine like warm honey.
“The firm is throwing a New Year’s Eve party.
Technically, it’s a product launch—but even if we pull the plug, we’re still going through with the event.
Might be the last bit of fun we’ll be allotted before facing the storm of our toughest quarter yet.
Come. Meet my partners and our team. You might make some connections that can help in this next phase of your career. ”
“Theo—”
“You’re invited as a guest. Not my—” His jaw flexes as he cuts himself off. “No strings. Just networking.”
The offer dangles between us. A professional opportunity wrapped in a personal complication.
“I can’t.”
“ Can’t ?”
“ Shouldn’t ,” I clarify. “I need time. And space. To figure myself out.”
“Understood,” he says, his features settling into that calculated calm he wears so masterfully. “It doesn’t have to be this New Year’s Eve. The offer doesn’t have an expiration date. It’ll wait. I will wait.”
His thumb drags along the curve of my neck, fingers tightening slightly. Then, with a muttered curse, he lets go and takes my hand instead. “I lost you once. I’m not making that mistake again. We can take it slow. Hell, we can crawl. But I’ll be here.”
“In Sugarpine Springs?” I attempt to keep my tone light, but the question draws blood.
Theo flinches. “No, but—”
“I can’t ,” I whisper. Repeat it to my hammering heart, too.
If I let myself want this—want us—I’m not sure I’ll be strong enough to lose him again.
As if on cue, his phone lights up.
He ignores it .
“New Year’s Eve. Just promise me you’ll think about it.”
“I’ll think about it. That’s all I can offer right now.”
“It’s all I ask.” Leaning in, he presses his lips to mine in a kiss that tastes nothing like goodbye .
Maybe this isn’t how it ends.
Perhaps this is how it begins.