Chapter 44
GRIFFIN
Dawn’s pale light filters through the oval windows as our jet’s wheels kiss down on the runway. Tiana sits beside me.
She didn’t look at me the entire trip—her shoulders hunched, arms wrapped around herself like she was cold.
Last night, I offered to take her home on my private jet, and she accepted with a ghost of a nod.
I spent the entire flight thinking about our bodies pressed close, the sweat gleaming on Tiana’s collarbone, my hand fisting her hair, her nails scratching my back. The sex was angry and raw—clashing teeth and whispered apologies.
It was the most vulnerable sex I’ve ever known, and I can’t blame Tiana now for sealing her lips in silence. She’s retreated again. I fucked up. Badly. And I resolve to spend every waking minute from now on earning her forgiveness.
When the cabin door opens, a blast of cool morning air rushes in. Tiana steps out first, her boots crunching on the tarmac. She doesn’t glance back until I catch up, guiding her toward my truck. Inside the vehicle, she presses her forehead against the glass, watching droplets slide down.
My knuckles whiten around the steering wheel. Will she stay? Will she walk away with her dreams, or fold herself back into this life with me?
In my head, a dozen questions spin, but I have no immediate answers.
By the time we pull up to Worth and Mya’s house, the morning light is seeping through the clouds across the lawn. Sylas, wearing dinosaur pajamas, hurtles through the front door before it’s fully unlatched. “Tiana!”
Tiana leaps out of the car, nearly toppling onto the damp grass. “Bug! I missed you so much!” she cries, arms outstretched as she bends to scoop him into a fierce hug; his little legs kick giddily against her pants as he buries his face in her shoulder. My chest tightens at the sight.
Mya appears in the doorway next, her brow furrowing as she senses the undercurrent of tension. “TJ, come inside for a sec?” she calls. Tiana nods over Sylas’s shoulder and follows her sister into the foyer, promising “I’ll be right back, Sy,” with a quick wave.
Sylas bounds over to me and wraps his arms around my legs. I crouch down, smoothing his disheveled hair. “How was your sleepover, champ?”
He grins, eyes bright. “Awesome! Brianna and I watched Jurassic Park.”
“Did you get scared?” I tease.
“Not even once!” He beams up at me. “I’m brave like you.”
I press a kiss to his forehead. “You’re my hero, buddy.”
Worth emerges, folding his arms on the porch rail. “Sounds like you came clean,” he says, nodding toward the house. “She’s telling Mya everything.”
I grimace and Worth’s lips twitch into a grin. He claps me on the shoulder. “You did the hardest part, my friend—being honest. Did you tell her you love her?”
I nod.
“All that’s left is to prove it. I can tell she loves you, too, Griff. Now you earn her back.”
I exhale. Worth’s steady confidence is infectious. “I won’t stop trying.”
A few minutes later, Tiana returns, cheeks flushed, eyes rimmed red.
She gives Sylas a soft smile but offers me only a curt nod before sliding into the passenger seat.
Sylas chatters nonstop about raptors and Pteranodons on the ride back; Tiana stares straight ahead, her silence louder than any roar.
When we pull into my driveway, she’s out of the truck before I cut the engine. She and Sylas walk hand in hand up the porch steps. She punches in the code, opens the door, and slips inside.
I carry her two suitcases up the steps. “Where do you want these?”
“In my room, please,” she says without looking at me. “I need a shower.”
“Of course.” I lead her upstairs with my heart hammering in my throat. Tiana’s footsteps are light behind me, but I can feel the drag in her gait.
The entire climb, a week of late nights flash behind my eyes—a blur of hammering and measuring: framing studs, laying down new flooring, and installing new doors.
I let her move past me. Tiana pushes open the door—and stops dead. Where the old closet once was, two pristine white doors stand perfectly aligned.
She blinks. “Griffin, what are those?”
I set down her bag and meet her gaze. “Nothing you wouldn’t approve of, I promise. Go ahead. Open them.”
Tiana’s fingers tremble as she parts the doors. A gasp escapes her lips when the interior reveals rows of custom-built shelves, brass rods, soft LED strips illuminating every corner. Shoes, dresses, purses—all have their place now.
Her eyes fill with tears. And in that shining moment, I know I’d move heaven and earth to keep her here.
When Tiana mentioned to @built2last how she dreamed of a bigger closet, I told myself maybe it would help make up for the things I’d broken.
I built it for her because I still couldn’t say what I meant, because my words have always been blunt and clumsy, and because if she ever chooses to pack up her life and stay, I want her to wake up every morning to proof that she matters.
That she is worth the effort. I want her to know that every cut and measure, every late night spent in sawdust and sweat, was my way of saying I’m still learning how to deserve her.
The silence between us is thin. I stand in the bedroom doorway while Tiana’s hands sweep along the edge of the new closet, trailing over the built-in jewelry drawers and mirrored panel. She steps onto the plush rug in the center of the floor and spins in a circle.
She turns to face me. “Did you… build this yourself? For me?”
“Yes. I wanted you to have a place that felt like yours here,” I respond. The words sound dumb and out of scale with what I did, as if a closet could ever contain the apology I owe her.
“Griffin.” Tiana’s voice is barely above a whisper. Her hand stills on a row of hanging blouses, each one still wrapped in garment bags. “These are all new… Did you buy me an entire wardrobe?”
I rub the back of my neck. “You posted a vlog once, walking through Celeste’s on Fifth.
You looked happy there.” I clear my throat.
“I know the guy who owns the building, so I called in a favor. He got their stylist to pull some things based on your posts.” I look at the floor.
“I tried to get your size right. But you can return anything.”
I have no playbook for romance, let alone apologizing to someone as fierce as Tiana. My bandwidth for vulnerability is shot, and I’m running on fumes.
Tiana presses her palm to the mirrored panel, her expression unreadable. “Is this supposed to make up for what you did?”
“No,” I say, stepping closer, hands in the pockets of my jeans so she can’t see them shake. “This is just… I wanted you to see that you belong here. Even when I don’t deserve it.”
I shift from foot to foot in the awkward silence, waiting for her to say something.
“Why do this?” she says finally. “Why go to all this trouble when you could have just… told me the truth from the start?”
“Because I didn’t know how until it was too late,” I admit. “I’m better at building walls than breaking them down.”
She huffs, the ghost of a laugh. “That so?”
“Yeah. I can rip every board in the city, but the second I try to express anything with my mouth, I fuck it up.” My eyes slide away, then back.
“I promised you I’d try. This is one way of trying.
” I step further into the closet and lean against the opposite cubby, careful not to cross what feels like a sacred line.
I want to reach for her, but I’m not sure if my touch is wanted, or if I’ll just contaminate this clean new space.
Tiana moves to the built-in vanity and sits, twisting her hands in her lap. “Other than my family, I’m not used to people apologizing,” she says. “Or building me things. Or… loving me.”
My chest contracts, guilt and relief warring for the win. “You’re easy to love, Tiana.”
She looks away, letting out a sigh.
“I was scared,” I say, the words foreign in my mouth. “If I told you the truth, I was sure you’d leave, and I—” my voice splinters “—I couldn’t handle that.”
Tiana’s fingers shake as she reaches for a necklace I saw her admire once, the delicate chain catching in the soft white light. She looks at me, her eyes wet but unblinking. “You know this doesn’t fix what you did. But thank you, Griffin. I appreciate the gesture; everything is so beautiful.”
I close the distance between us and crouch down to her level, tilting her chin up with two fingers before she can drop her gaze. Her eyes stay on mine, uncertain, and I lean in slow enough that she can stop me if she wants to.
When I kiss her, it’s with all the care of a man who knows he’s on parole, not taking even one second for granted.
For a beat, she kisses me back in a way that makes me believe she’s forgiven me. But when she pulls away, her fingers linger at my jaw. “If you ever lie to me again, I will burn all of this. Every single shelf. With a torch.”
My lips twitch. That’s my girl.
“Deal.”
Just then, from down the hall, Sylas yells from his room, “Mommy!”
Tiana sucks in air like she’s been punched, and the world rushes before my eyes.