Chapter Ten
Saving Between the Lines
Brinelle organized a community meeting that evening.
Miss Clevonne contacted the neighborhood association.
Local authors shared our story online.
Customers offered donations, legal referrals, and volunteer labor.
By Wednesday, #SaveBetweenTheLines was trending locally.
A television reporter interviewed me outside the store.
“This bookstore is more than a business,” I told the camera. “It is a gathering place, a resource, and proof that neighborhoods deserve investment without displacement.”
Across the street, LaKeith stood beside one of his work trucks.
He had come to speak with the director of the community credit union.
He did not approach me.
I could not decide whether I appreciated his respect or resented the distance.
After the interview, I watched him unfold architectural plans across the hood of his truck.
He looked tired.
His beard had grown fuller, and shadows rested beneath his eyes.
I wanted to walk across the street.
Fear kept my feet still.
Friday morning, Harrow representatives arrived for a final property inspection.
Remell came with them.
He smiled at the crowd gathered outside my store as though he had personally organized the support.
I met him on the sidewalk.
“You need to leave.”
“I’m here on behalf of my client,” Remell said.
“Your client hasn’t purchased anything.”
“They will.”
A black pickup truck pulled to the curb.
LaKeith stepped out.
My heart reacted before my pride could control it.
He carried a rolled set of plans beneath one arm. Jakari climbed from the passenger side, followed by two attorneys and a woman I recognized as Cynara Bell, director of Morrow Community Credit Union.
LaKeith approached us.
Remell’s smile weakened. “What is this?”
“The end of your inspection,” LaKeith answered.
One of the attorneys handed documents to Mr. Dillingham’s representative.
Cynara turned toward me.
“Mr. Vance’s financing has been approved through our neighborhood preservation fund,” she announced. “His purchase offer was accepted this morning.”
The sidewalk erupted in cheers.
I stared at LaKeith. “You bought it?”
“We bought it,” he corrected. “The credit union owns forty percent. My company owns forty percent. A local investment cooperative owns the rest.”
“What about my purchase option?”
“It remains exactly as written.”
Remell looked between us. “Harrow offered more money.”
LaKeith faced him. “Some things are worth more than the highest bid.”
The reporters loved that.
Cameras turned toward Remell as questions flew from every direction.
He hurried toward his car while Miss Clevonne shouted after him.
“Take your ugly blueprints with you!”
The crowd laughed.
I should have celebrated.
Instead, I stood frozen in front of the man I had hurt.
LaKeith nodded politely toward me and turned away.
“LaKeith.”
He stopped.
“Can we talk?” I asked.
He looked toward the bookstore. “Here?”
“In my office.”
He followed me inside.
I closed the door.
For several seconds, neither of us spoke.
LaKeith folded his arms.
I took a breath.
“You saved my store.”
“The community saved it.”
“You created the proposal.”
“I did.”
“You kept every protection after I told you to leave.”
“My feelings don’t determine whether you deserve fair treatment.”
The calmness in his voice made the shame burn deeper.
“I owe you an apology,” I said.
“Yes.”
I blinked.
LaKeith lifted one eyebrow. “You do.”
“I was building toward it.”
“Build faster.”
Despite everything, a small laugh escaped me.
His expression softened, though he did not smile.
I stepped closer.
“You should have told me about the building,” I said.
“I know.”
“I had a right to feel betrayed.”
“You did.”
“But I used that hurt as permission to say something cruel.” My eyes filled. “I compared you to Remell because fear was familiar and trusting you was new.”
LaKeith looked down.
“You made one mistake,” I continued, “and I turned it into proof that every good thing between us had been a lie. I dismissed everything you had shown me. I made you carry the weight of something another man did.”
My voice shook.
“I’m sorry, LaKeith. You didn’t deserve that.”
He remained quiet long enough to make my stomach twist.
“I didn’t tell you because I wanted to be the hero,” he said finally. “I thought I could solve the problem and hand you a perfect answer.”
I nodded. “You were trying to help.”
“I was also feeding my ego. I should have treated you like a partner.”
“I wasn’t making partnership easy.”
“No.” His mouth twitched faintly. “You were difficult from the beginning.”
“I prefer selectively accessible.”
“You told me to leave you alone seven times.”
“I wanted to see whether you respected consistency.”
“You threw a bookmark at me.”
“It was promotional material.”
LaKeith laughed quietly.
Hope moved through me.
“I love you,” I said.
His laughter stopped.
The words had escaped before I could arrange them into something safer.
I moved closer.
“I love your irritating confidence,” I continued. “I love how you care for people without making them feel small. I love the way you listen. I love that you read romance novels and argue about emotional accountability.”
A tear slipped down my cheek.
“I love who I am when I’m with you. I should have told you before everything became messy.”
LaKeith looked at me for a long moment.
Then he reached for my waist.
“It was always going to be messy,” he said. “You’re involved.”
I stared at him. “That sounded like an insult.”
“It was a declaration of love.”
“You didn’t say the love part.”
He pulled me against him.
“I love you, Yandy Monroe.”
Relief broke through me so quickly that I started crying harder.
LaKeith wiped my cheek with his thumb.
“I’m still angry,” he said.
“That feels fair.”
“I need time to trust that you won’t throw me away every time you get scared.”
“I won’t ask you to pretend this never happened.”
“Good.”
“I can show you.”
“You can.”
I placed my hands against his chest. “Can I kiss you?”
“Yes.”
The kiss began carefully.
An apology.
A promise.
Then LaKeith’s arm tightened around my waist, and every day I had missed him rushed between us.
His mouth moved over mine with aching familiarity.
I clutched his shirt, holding him as though I could communicate everything my apology had missed.
Someone knocked on the office door.
Norelle shouted, “Are y’all reconciling, or do we need another community meeting?”
LaKeith rested his forehead against mine.
I laughed through my tears.
“We’re reconciling!” I called.
Miss Clevonne’s voice came through the door.
“Ask him when the wedding is!”
“Everybody move away from my office!”
Jakari called, “Norelle said you need ten more minutes.”
Norelle immediately corrected him. “I said twenty!”
LaKeith smiled. “You have a loud support system.”
“They’re emotionally intrusive.”
Another knock sounded.
Jakari said, “Norelle wants to know if she can order champagne.”
“She does not need permission to order anything,” I answered.
Norelle shouted, “That is why you’re my best friend!”
LaKeith kissed my forehead.
“Dinner tonight?” he asked.
“Yes.”
“My place?”
“Yes.”
“You staying?”
I brushed my mouth against his.
“Yes.”
His eyes darkened.
“We should tell them we need thirty minutes.”
“This is a place of business.”
“After closing.”
I pretended to consider it.
“Make it forty-five.”