Chapter 5 #2
"The worst part wasn't even—I mean, it was.
It was awful. But what really..." He sets the mug down again.
Rubs his face with both hands. "She didn't even apologize, Sadie.
She just looked at me like I was the one interrupting something.
Like I was the problem." His voice cracks.
"She packed a bag and left within the week. Just... gone."
I cover his hand with mine. He grips my fingers tight.
"Everyone knew." He stares down at our joined hands.
"That's the thing about small towns. Word spreads fast. People were kind—brought food, checked on me, told me I deserved better.
" He swallows hard. "But none of that fixed the part of me that felt...
broken. Like I'd been so blind I couldn't trust my own judgment anymore. "
"You're not broken," I say fiercely.
"I felt like I was." He finally meets my eyes again.
"For twenty years I felt like that. Like I'd missed something obvious.
Like if I couldn't see that coming, how could I trust myself with anyone else?
" He shakes his head. "So I didn't. I just...
worked. Led my crew. Lived in this house alone and convinced myself it was better this way. "
"But something changed," I say softly.
"Yeah." A small smile tugs at his mouth.
"Grant Sullivan—the sheriff—he found someone a few years back.
I watched him at the diner one morning with her, and he was...
different. Smiling. Touching her hand like he couldn't help it.
" He pauses. "Grant's my age. Divorced. Cynical as hell.
Or he was. But seeing him like that—happy again—it made me wonder if maybe I didn't have to stay stuck forever. "
"And the doctor?" I ask.
"Nathaniel Blake. Yeah." Brock nods. "He's older than me. Quiet guy. But when he talks about his partner, his whole face just..." He gestures vaguely. "Lights up. And I started thinking—maybe it's not impossible. Maybe men like us—men who've been burned—can still..." He trails off.
"Can still what?"
“Find something real.” He cups my face with one hand. His palm is warm and rough. “Then you showed up. In the middle of a fire. Sassy and stubborn and refusing to let anyone control you.” His thumb strokes my cheekbone. “And I haven’t been able to think straight since.”
My breath catches. “Brock?—”
“I’m terrified.” The words come out raw.
Honest. “The thought of you leaving scares me more than any fire I’ve ever walked into.
More than anything.” He searches my face.
“What if you realize I’m too old? Too set in my ways?
What if you get tired of this quiet life and want more?
What if—” He stops. Swallows hard. “What if you leave like she did?”
“I won’t,” I whisper. “I’m not her.”
“I know.” He rests his forehead against mine. “That’s what terrifies me. You’re nothing like her. You’re everything I didn’t know I needed, and you’re cracking me wide open.” His voice drops. “I’m choosing to let you in even though it scares the hell out of me.”
“Why?” I ask softly.
“Because not trying?” He pulls back just enough to look into my eyes.
“Letting you slip away because I’m too afraid?
That’s worse. That’s unbearable.” He takes a shaky breath.
“I felt it the moment I carried you out of that cabin. This certainty that settled into my bones. You’re mine.
I’m yours. Nothing’s going to change that. ”
Tears prick my eyes. “I feel it too.”
“But I can’t—” His jaw clenches. “I won’t control you.
I won’t become what hurt you. Ryan tried to own you.
Tried to control every part of your life.
” He grips my hand tighter. “I’ll protect you.
Keep you safe. Give you everything I have.
But I won’t cage you.” His voice cracks.
“You have to choose me. You have to want this as much as I do.”
“I do want this.” I frame his face with both hands. “I choose you, Brock. Every day. I’m choosing you.”
Something breaks loose in his expression. Relief. Hope. Love. He kisses me then, deep and desperate and full of everything he just confessed. I kiss him back with the same intensity, pouring everything I feel into this moment. When we finally break apart, we’re both breathing hard.
“I’m all in,” he says against my lips. “Whatever it takes. However long it takes. I’ll prove to you that I’m not going anywhere. That you can trust me. That I’ll never hurt you the way Ryan did. The way my ex-wife hurt me.”
“I already trust you,” I tell him. “You showed me what real love looks like. What it feels like to be cherished instead of controlled. You gave me a home. A future. Hope.”
He pulls me into his lap and wraps his arms around me. I settle against his chest, listening to his heartbeat. The sun rises over the lake now, pink and gold light spreading across the water. Everything feels new. Possible.
“Thank you,” he murmurs into my hair.
“For what?”
“For choosing me. For trusting me. For giving me a second chance at this.” He tightens his arms around me. “For being mine.”
I tilt my head up and kiss him softly. “Always. I’m always going to be yours, Brock. And you’re always going to be mine.”
“Damn right I am,” he agrees.
We sit there as the sun climbs higher, tangled together, both of us finally believing in something we thought we’d lost. Love. Trust. Forever.