Page 126 of Knot Happening Again

"Looks like a demo zone in here," a familiar voice booms from the doorway.

I turn to see Mace's hulking form filling the entrance, his gray eyes taking in the scene with a mix of curiosity and amusement.

"That's because it is," I reply, walking over to him.

Mace raises an eyebrow. "Any second thoughts about turning most of your gym into a studio for Ophelia?"

I shake my head without hesitation. "None at all."

A smile spreads across Mace's face, crinkling the corners of his eyes. "Didn't think so."

I lead him over to a table set up in the corner, away from the noise and dust. Blueprints and sketches are spread out across its surface, held down by various weights and dumbbells.

"I've enlisted Troy's help with the design," I explain, pointing to one of the more detailed sketches. "He's the artistic one, after all."

Pretty sure he still hates me, but he was willing to help for Ophelia's sake at least.

So that's progress.

Mace leans in, his eyes roving over the plans. I start detailing the different areas, my finger tracing the lines on the paper.

"This will be the main area, with a kiln over here and a wheel there. We're knocking down this wall to create more space for works in progress," I say, tapping the spot where the workers are prepping for demolition. "And over here, by the window, we're building a nest for when she needs a break."

I pause, my finger hovering over the spot on the blueprint. In my mind's eye, I can see Ophelia curled up there, bathed in sunlight, her raven hair spilling over her shoulders. The image sends a pang of longing and regret shooting through my chest.

A pang I’ve become all too familiar with.

Mace's voice pulls me back to the present. "You're really determined to make amends, aren't you?"

I look up at him, meeting his steady gaze. "This isn't about getting Ophelia to forgive me," I say, my voice low and serious."It's just about making her comfortable here. Making sure she knows this is her home and it's where she belongs. I know it's going to take a hell of a lot more than a fancy studio."

Mace's large hand lands on my shoulder, giving it a squeeze. "I'm glad you're setting realistic expectations, kid."

I nod, my eyes drifting back to the plans. "I'll find a way to deal, even if she can never forgive me."

The words taste bitter on my tongue, but I force myself to say them. To believe them. Because the alternative—hoping for forgiveness I don't deserve—is too dangerous to contemplate.

"Well," Mace says, his voice taking on a lighter tone, "at least you'll have a kickass new gym when all this is done."

I snort, grateful for the change in subject. "Yeah, if there's anything left of it."

We both turn to survey the room. The contractors have made quick work of clearing out the equipment, leaving large empty spaces where my usual training gear used to be. It's strange seeing my sanctuary so bare, so different from what I'm used to.

But then I think of Ophelia, and I know it's worth it. Every square inch given up, every change made…

It's all for her.

"You know," Mace says, breaking into my thoughts, "I never pegged you for an interior designer."

I roll my eyes. "I'm not. That's why Troy's helping. He designed the schematics."

"Ah, yes. Our resident rockstar-slash-decorator. Who would've thought?"

"He's got some wild ideas," I admit, gesturing to one of the more elaborate sketches. "Had to talk him down from installing a freaking chandelier."

Mace barks out a laugh. "Now that I would've paid to see. Ophelia sculpting under a crystal chandelier while you're trying to do deadlifts in the corner."

The mental image is so absurd that I can't help but laugh along with him. For a moment, the tension that's been coiled in my gut since Ophelia came back into my life eases slightly.

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