Page 98 of The Secrets We Built Together

"This location is prime real estate, especially with the expanding tourist foot traffic," I overheard her saying. "We've had significant interest from boutique retailers and upscale restaurants looking to capitalize on the expected influx of visitors."

The couple nodded eagerly, and I found myself wondering if this was what Booker and Trace had envisioned when they’d first starting talking about regenerating the town.

I continued down the street, Daniel's words echoing in my mind. Life has a way of making us choose. That had certainly been true for me. For years, I'd thought my choices were limited to the path that had been laid out for me—medical school, a prestigious practice, a life that looked good on paper but felt hollow inside.

But now? Now my choices seemed both impossibly complex and startlingly simple.

I wanted Blake. I wanted Amelia. I wanted us, together, building a life that was messy and imperfect and entirely our own.

And I was willing to do whatever it took to make that happen—even if it meant relying on my father, the man I'd spent most of my life trying not to become.

Amelia babbled happily in her stroller, seemingly content with her place in the world. I envied her that certainty, that ability to be fully present in the moment without worrying about the past or the future.

"You're a wise girl, Amelia," I told her, adjusting her little sunhat as we walked. "One day, when you're older, I'll tell you all about how you saved me. How you and Blake showed me what really matters."

She yawned widely, her eyes growing heavy as the rhythm of the stroller and the warmth of the day lulled her toward sleep.

"But for now," I whispered, "let's just enjoy this moment. We'll figure out the rest as we go."

Chapter 34

Xander

Iwas seriously starting to regret this. I paced the length of Dex's garage, grease-stained concrete beneath my feet and the lingering smell of motor oil in the air. The fluorescent lights buzzed overhead, casting harsh shadows against the tool-covered walls. Through the windows, the last remnants of daylight were fading into a purple dusk.

"You're making me dizzy," Booker complained from where he lounged against a workbench, nursing a beer. "Would you sit down already?"

"Can't," I replied, running a hand through my hair. "I'm too wound up."

Trace chuckled from his perch on an upturned bucket, his own beer dangling between his fingers. "You look like you're about to jump out of your skin, brother. What's eating at you?"

Dex emerged from the small office in the back, carrying a cooler that he set down with a thud. "Please tell me this isn'tabout some medical emergency. I've seen enough blood for one lifetime."

"Nothing like that," I said, catching the soda Dex tossed my way. "Blake thinks I'm at the clinic doing paperwork, but I snuck away. She's having a girls' night with Delaney and Amelia."

"Ah," Booker smirked. "Sneaking around behind your fake fiancée's back now?"

I stopped pacing and looked at my brothers, all three of them watching me with varying degrees of amusement and concern. The Farrington men weren't exactly known for heart-to-hearts. We tended to avoid communicating at all costs. Or at least we used to. But I needed to get this out.

"That's the thing," I said, taking a deep breath. "It's not fake anymore."

The garage fell silent except for the buzzing of the fluorescent lights overhead.

"What do you mean?" Trace asked, leaning forward.

"I mean the engagement, the relationship. None of it's fake anymore." I cracked open the soda, needing something to do with my hands. "I'm in love with her."

Booker snorted. "No shit."

"We've all known that for weeks," Trace added, unhelpfully.

"But here's the thing," I continued, ignoring their lack of surprise. "I want more than what we have now. I want Blake and Amelia and me to be a real family. Forever. Not just playing house until the DCFS situation gets resolved."

"So what's the problem?" Dex asked, popping the top off his own beer. "Tell her that."

I felt heat creep up my neck, and I took a long swig of soda to buy myself some time. "It's more complicated than that."

"How?" Trace pressed.

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