Page 44 of The Breakup Broker

“I have,” he interrupted gently. “More times than I care to admit. For Henry's sake, I should have stood up to Richard years ago. For your sake. But I didn’t. And I regret it every day.”

My throat tightened as I studied his face, the lines of his years gentled by the afternoon light. “You’ve done more forme than anyone in that family ever has. You don’t owe me anything.”

His hand squeezed mine. “You’re wrong, Savannah. I owe you—and Henry—more than I could ever repay. That’s why I need you to be strong. To fight for what’s right. For River Bend. And…” He paused, his gaze turning thoughtful. “And maybe for him, too, if he proves he’s worth it.”

I opened my mouth, but before I could speak, the door creaked open behind me.

Henry’s presence filled the room before he even stepped inside. My breath caught as I turned to see him, his broad shoulders framed by the doorway. His eyes immediately found mine, the flicker of surprise quickly replaced by something deeper.

“Grandfather,” Henry greeted, his voice steady. “Savvy.”

“Henry,” I replied, my voice more guarded.

James lit up at the sight of him. “Henry. Don’t stand there looking like you’ve been caught skipping church.”

Henry sat down across from me. His face was etched with a calm that didn’t quite match the strain in the room. The air grew thick with things unsaid and the pull of too much history.

James didn’t seem to notice, or perhaps he ignored it. “Now that we’re all here,” he began, “let me tell you what I’ve admired about places like River Bend.”

Henry and I both glanced at him, caught off guard by the shift in conversation.

“It’s not just the charm,” James continued, his voice soft but steady. “It’s the people. Small towns take care of their own. They show up when it matters.”

I nodded, emotion pressing against my ribs.

“You don’t see that in cities like New York,” James wenton, his gaze drifting out the window. “People get so caught up in their own ambition that they forget what matters. But in a place like River Bend, you notice when someone’s hurting. You look out for each other.”

He turned his attention to Henry, his expression growing more serious. “That’s what I should’ve done more of. Look out for the people who matter instead of letting your father dictate the rules. Don’t make that same mistake, Henry.”

Henry’s jaw tightened, but he leaned forward, his voice quieter than usual. “You’ve looked out for me, Grandfather.”

“When I could,” James admitted. “But I didn’t do enough. Not for you. Not for Savannah.”

His gaze shifted between us, his words landing with quiet finality.

Henry stood and touched his shoulder when James’s head dipped, his energy fading. “We should let him rest.”

Before we left, James regained a moment of clarity. His frail hands caught ours, his grip weak but purposeful. “Take care of each other,” he murmured.

The drive back to River Bend was silent, both of us lost in thought. When Henry slowed the car on Main Street, he glanced at me. “Do you want to take a walk?”

I hesitated for only a moment before nodding. “Okay.”

The town was calm, its quiet streets glowing in the soft light of the early sun. As we walked, we stopped to chat with familiar faces—Mrs. Patterson was setting up the post office display, and Old Mr. Dixon was arranging the crates outside The Weathered Barn.

“We need to warn them,” I said softly after Mrs. Patterson bustled inside with her packages.

Henry nodded. “Yes, they need to know what’s coming.That no matter what they hear about inspections or offers to sell, they have to hold the line.”

We moved from one person to the next, sharing what we knew about Richard Kingston’s looming plans. Henry’s voice was measured and steady, but it carried an undercurrent of urgency that struck a chord with everyone we spoke to.

“Don’t sell,” he urged Mrs. Patterson. “No matter what you’re offered, regardless of what you hear about the state of your building. We’ll ensure you understand your property’s true value and get you the resources to protect it.”

Mrs. Patterson’s sharp eyes narrowed as understanding dawned. “I’ll spread the word,” she promised. “Everyone will know by sundown that we’re standing together.”

I didn’t doubt her. Mrs. Patterson could move news faster than the internet in River Bend, and right now, that network could be our strongest defense.

As we continued our walk in the late morning sun, Henry’s presence beside me felt steady, more like a lifeline than a burden. His focus on protecting the community reminded me of the boy I once loved, who fought for what was right, no matter the cost.

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