I wanted to let him. And I wanted to give him everything he had given to me.

Ivy rushed to the back, wide-eyed and back stiff, but before she could ask any questions, I grabbed her hands, smiling.

“I need your help.”

“Anything,” she said with a sputter.

“Help me tell Luke I love him.”

And her own smile spread. “I thought you’d never ask.”

25

Moments

LUKE

The entire Bennet clan was squirrely.

The Bennet penchant for gossip—regarding Wendy, I assumed—was the cause. Every time I walked into a room, it was to whispers that burst into overly loud chatter. I was being systematically guided through my day in an effort to keep me out of the shop. My siblings disappeared at intervals. My mother led me around by the nose, citing my promise to make up my transgressions, an especially fresh bruise after Wendy had come by to talk to her. They’d said goodbye with a tearful hug, and afterward, I’d been surprised the Bennets didn’t bust out a preordered cake and pour the good scotch to commemorate the occasion. Instead, Mom had wrapped her arms around my waist, burying her face in my chest while she cried. Partly from relief, I was sure. But her words only spoke of her pride in me.

That, and her desire for me to make things right with Tess.

But that was the thing. The only thing for me to do was wait, and it was driving me to the edge of insanity. I’d asked to see her, but she’d blown me off. I wanted her to hear the news about Wendy from me, but not over text. I needed to see her.

But I’d lost the right. And by this point, she’d probably heard from one of my siblings. No chance that news wouldn’t spread like wildfire.

That night, I lay in the top bunk with Kash snoring below, phone in hand and Tess’s messages pulled up. There were so many things I wanted to say. But I couldn’t say any of them. Not if I wanted her back.

And I wanted her back. I wanted her back so badly but had no control. The thought of losing her was white-hot pain in my chest, the knowledge that it was largely out of my hands crippling.

But I knew what she needed. I could be patient. I could give her space. Because I believed in my love for her, and I had faith that she’d come back to me. So instead of typing out all the words of my heart, I clicked off my phone and tried to sleep.

When I woke, it was with that same solid sense of hope I’d gone to sleep with, alive and tangible in my chest. In fact, it was stronger, more vital than it had been since everything came unraveled. Maybe it was because I was no longer beholden to Wendy, or maybe because my name had been cleared.

Or it could be the hope set in motion by Natalie’s agreement to come to the shop to talk to me about potentially working with the magazine again. That was, if I could convince her, which I felt certain that I could.