Chapter 24 #2
"He's right, Mom." Riley looked up, her eyes red.
"He's completely right. In high school I was always bailing on plans.
Too busy with homework or applications or whatever achievement I was chasing.
I was so scared of being ordinary. Of staying in Pine Valley and never amounting to anything.
So I made everything about success and achievement. "
Carol reached across the table and squeezed Riley's hand but didn't interrupt.
"And then I went to the city and did the exact same thing with my job," Riley continued.
"I let it consume everything. I missed birthdays and holidays and important moments because there was always one more meeting, one more project, one more thing that seemed more urgent than the people I loved.
" She took a shaky breath. "Yesterday, when my boss kept piling on more work, when I realized I was going to miss the pageant—I just..
. I couldn't do it anymore. I couldn't be that person anymore. "
"What do you mean?" Carol asked quietly.
"I quit." Riley's voice was barely above a whisper. "Right there in the office. Sandra kept adding tasks, kept pushing, and I just—I snapped. I told her I was done. That I was going home and I wasn't coming back."
Carol's eyes widened. "Riley—"
"I know it was impulsive. I know I should have thought it through, given notice, done it the right way." Riley wiped at her eyes. "But I couldn't stay another minute in that place. In that life. I was drowning, Mom. I've been drowning for years and I just finally admitted it."
"How do you feel about it now?" Carol asked carefully.
"Scared out of my mind. Relieved. Free." Riley let out a wet laugh. "Mostly scared. But I don't regret it. Not for a second. That job was killing me. That life was killing me."
Carol reached across the table and squeezed Riley's hand. "Then it sounds like you made the right choice. Even if the timing was terrible."
"Was using work as an excuse to not deal with what I really wanted. Because what I really wanted scared me to death."
Carol tilted her head. "What did you want?"
"This." Riley gestured around the kitchen.
"Home. Family. A life that felt real instead of some performance where I was constantly trying to prove I was good enough.
" Her voice dropped. "Grant. I wanted Grant.
I've wanted Grant since I was sixteen years old, and I was too scared to admit it because wanting him meant admitting I wanted to come back here.
That maybe the life I'd built in the city wasn't the life I actually wanted. "
The admission hung in the air between them.
Carol was quiet for a long moment, wrapping her hands around her own mug. "It's not too late," she said quietly.
"He won't even talk to me."
"He's hurt. He's angry. He has every right to be both those things." Carol's eyes were gentle. "But that doesn't mean it's too late. It just means he needs time."
"What if time doesn't fix it? What if I ruined it too badly?"
"Then you'll have tried. You'll have shown up and fought for what you want." Carol squeezed Riley's hand. "But I don't think it's ruined, sweetheart. I saw the way Grant looked at you on Christmas. That boy is in love with you. He's been in love with you since you were sixteen years old."
Riley's throat tightened. "He told me tonight that the whole thing was fake. That it was just a favor for the reunion."
"Do you believe that?"
Riley thought about the way Grant had held her on Christmas Eve. The way he'd kissed her in the barn. The way he'd looked at her this morning when he dropped her at the train station—like she was everything.
"No," she whispered. "No, I don't believe it."
"Then you fight for it. You give him the space he needs, and then you fight for it." Carol paused. "But first, you need to figure out what you want. Not what Grant wants. Not what I want. What do you want, Riley?"
Riley stared into her tea, watching the steam curl up into the air.
What did she want?
The answer had been there all along, buried under years of ambition and fear and the desperate need to prove herself. She'd spent so long running from Pine Valley, convinced that staying meant giving up, settling, admitting defeat.
But she'd been wrong.
She wanted mornings drinking coffee on a porch that overlooked rolling fields.
She wanted to help Hannah with the kids and have dinner with her parents and run into people she'd known her whole life at the grocery store.
She wanted to know her neighbors, to be part of something bigger than herself, to matter in ways that felt real and tangible.
She wanted to build something that mattered—help local businesses tell their stories, connect with her community, make a difference in ways she could see and touch and feel. Not faceless corporations and soulless campaigns, but real people with real dreams.
She wanted Christmas mornings and summer bonfires and winters that meant something. She wanted seasons that mattered, holidays with family, traditions she could count on.
She wanted Grant.
God, she wanted Grant. His quiet strength and steady presence and the way he looked at her like she was the only person in the world who mattered. She wanted to build a life with him, wake up beside him, grow old in the town they both loved.
She wanted the life she'd been too scared to admit she'd wanted all along.
"I want to stay," Riley said. "I want to move back to Pine Valley.
I want to start my own marketing business here—help small businesses, work with people I care about.
I want to be close to you and Dad. I want to actually be present for the people I love.
" She looked up at her mom. "I want Grant.
I want to build a life with him. I want all of it. "
Carol smiled, soft and knowing. "Then that's what you do."
"Even if he won't talk to me?"
"Especially if he won't talk to you. You show up. You stay. You prove that you mean it this time." Carol stood and pulled Riley into a hug. "But not tonight. Tonight you're exhausted and heartbroken and you need to sleep. Tomorrow you can start figuring out how to fix this."
Riley clung to her mom, breathing in the familiar scent of her perfume, and felt something settle in her chest.
She'd made her choice. She'd quit her job. She'd burned her bridges with the city.
Now she just had to convince Grant that she meant it. That she wasn't going anywhere. That she'd finally chosen right.
Even if it meant fighting for it.
Even if it meant being patient.
Even if it scared her.
Riley pulled back and wiped at her eyes. "What if it doesn't work? What if I stay and he doesn't forgive me?"
"Then you'll still be home. You'll still have built the life you want.
And that will have to be enough." Carol brushed Riley's hair back from her face.
"But I don't think that's what's going to happen.
I think Grant Lawson has been waiting for you to come home for ten years.
He's not going to let you go that easily. "
Riley wanted to believe her. God, she wanted to believe her.
But the look on Grant's face tonight—the pain and disappointment and weariness—kept replaying in her mind.
It was all fake anyway.
"Come on," Carol said gently. "Let's get you to bed. Things will look better in the morning."
Riley followed her mom upstairs, moving on autopilot. Her childhood room felt smaller than she remembered, the walls covered with memories of who she used to be.
She changed into pajamas and climbed into bed, pulling the covers up to her chin.
Her phone sat on the nightstand, dark and silent. No messages from Grant. No missed calls.
Riley rolled over and stared at the wall, tears sliding silently down her cheeks.
She'd quit her job. She'd chosen to come home. She'd finally figured out what mattered.
But she'd figured it out one day too late.
And now she had to find a way to convince Grant that she was worth taking a chance on. That she wouldn't run again. That she was here to stay.
Tomorrow.
Tomorrow she'd start fighting.
But tonight, she let herself cry for what she might have lost.
For the look in Grant's eyes when he said it was all fake.
For the empty space between them that used to feel like home.
And for the boy she'd loved since she was sixteen, who she'd hurt so badly she didn't know if he'd ever let her close enough to hurt him again.
Riley closed her eyes and tried to sleep.
It was a long time coming.