Page 212 of Tessa and Nash

“You’ll benefit from this,” I say. “And in the end, so will I.”

And then I walk out.

I close the door softly behind me. His words hang there, sharp and biting, but I won’t let them sink in. Not after everything I’ve said.

I take a deep breath, calming myself.

I don’t know what comes next. But I feel like I’m on the right path.

“Sweetheart?”

Grandma’s voice slices through the silence. I turn and find her standing in the hallway, her expression calm but her eyes sharp. She’s been listening. She knows what just happened.

I walk toward her, every step heavy, but something inside me feels lighter. When I’m close enough, she opens her arms, and I fall into them without hesitation.

She smells of bergamot and the warmth of home, her embrace solid and warm.

When she pulls back, she looks at me with a tenderness that makes my chest tighten. “You did well.”

I blink, fighting back the emotions that threaten to spill over. “I don’t know, Grandma. I don’t know if I did.”

“You did,” she says again, softly but firmly. “You’ve done what’s right. And sometimes, that’s the hardest thing to do.”

I exhale slowly, her words washing over me. I didn’t expect this. But I needed it. More than I thought.

I lift my eyes to meet hers. “He won’t listen. He’s so angry.”

“That’s his burden,” Grandma replies, her gaze fixed, unwavering. “Not yours.”

I nod, absorbing the truth in her words.

“He doesn’t get it,” I say. “But I can’t go back. I have to move forward.”

Grandma smiles, her hand resting on my shoulder. “And you will. Your mother would be proud.”

I swallow, the lump in my throat growing. “I just wish she were here to see this.”

“She is,” Grandma says softly. “In you. You’re stronger than you know.”

I nod, the storm inside me quieting. Because, for once, I know that what I’m doing is right. And I won’t look back.

“I’m ready,” I whisper, more to myself than to her.

Grandma squeezes my shoulder. “Good. Because this is just the beginning.”

CHAPTER FORTY-ONE

Nash

March 1st

Another town council meeting. Another round of stares, whispers, and raised eyebrows. The kind that says it all without a single word being spoken. “What the hell are the McCoys and Longs doing together?”

But this time? I don’t care.

Tessa sits beside me, her back straight, her gaze locked ahead, ready to take on the world. Everything we’ve been through sits between us, but there's something solid in the way she holds herself. She’s showing me, and the rest of this damn room, that we’re not just playing their game anymore.

We’re playing ours.