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We stay like that, tangled together on his bed, watching the sun slowly paint the room in shades of gold.

There are still conversations to be had, decisions to make. My phone is probably full of missed calls and texts. The real world is waiting outside.

But for now, this is enough. This quiet morning, this man who holds me like I'm something precious, this feeling of finally, finally being exactly where I'm meant to be.

Vincent presses a kiss to my hair, and I close my eyes, letting myself drift. The last thing I register is his whispered "Thank you" against my temple, and I'm not sure if he's thanking me for staying or for helping him remember how to want again.

Maybe both.

Chapter 6 – Vincent

When the knock comes, I know.

Call it instinct, call it the kind of sixth sense you develop living alone in the mountains, but I feel the shift in the air before his fist even hits the door. The peaceful morning we've carved out for ourselves shatters like glass, and my body goes rigid with recognition.

Sadie feels it too. I watch her freeze mid-sentence, her coffee mug halting halfway to her lips.

Something primal rises in my chest—the need to protect, to shelter, to keep her safe from whatever storm is about to break through my door.

The knock comes again, harder this time. Demanding.

I move without thinking, positioning myself between her and the door. My hands flex at my sides, muscle memory from years of fighting my own battles. "Stay behind me."

"It's him, isn't it?" She sets down her mug, and I hear it rattle against the table. "Matthew."

Before I can answer, the door bursts open, and Matthew storms in like he owns the place. The morning light catches on his expensive watch, his perfectly pressed suit—all the trappings of the world Sadie ran from.

His face is twisted with a desperate kind of fury that makes my muscles coil tight, ready for whatever comes next.

Even the usual morning sounds—birds calling, wind in the pines—seem to have gone quiet, like nature itself is holding its breath.

"Sadie!" His voice cracks through the space like a whip, bouncing off the wooden walls. "What the hell do you think you're doing?"

I feel her step closer to me, the warmth of her body against my back. She's still wearing my flannel shirt, her hair loose and wild around her shoulders.

The sight of her like this—soft, vulnerable, clearly belonging in my space—seems to enrage Matthew further. His hands clench into fists at his sides, and I track the movement with predatory focus.

"She's not going anywhere." My voice comes out low, controlled, but there's no mistaking the threat beneath the words.

Matthew's eyes snap to me, taking in my appearance with calculated disdain. His lip curls, and something shifts in his stance, like he's trying to make himself bigger.

"And who the hell are you?" he sneers, his mask cracking around the edges. "The mountain hermit who thought he'd play hero? Decided to take advantage of a vulnerable girl running from her wedding?"

Behind me, Sadie makes a small sound of protest. Her hand finds mine, fingers sliding between my rougher ones.

"Vincent," she says softly, and something in her voice—strength, certainty, choice—makes Matthew's face darken further.

"Oh, that's rich." His laugh is sharp, brittle. "This is what you left me for? Some backwoods hermit?" His eyes rake over me dismissively, but I catch the uncertainty beneath his bravado.

He takes a step forward, and my body responds instinctively, shifting to keep Sadie protected. The movement is subtle, but Matthew catches it.

"Look at him, Sadie. Really look. He's nothing. A nobody hiding from the world up here in his little cabin." His voice drips with contempt as he gestures around at my home. "What can he possibly offer you? A life of chopping wood and living off the grid? Is that what you want?"

I don't move. Don't react. His words mean nothing—I've heard worse, survived worse.

"You don't get to talk about him like that." Sadie's voice is steel wrapped in silk, and something in my chest tightens at the sound.

Gone is the uncertain woman who climbed into my truck two days ago. In her place stands someone stronger, someone who's finally found her own ground to stand on.