Page 35 of Stuck with Doctor Grump

“That man’s had a hold on you for weeks. Maybe longer, if we’re being honest. Last night just made it real.”

My shoulders sagged. “But what if it didn’t mean the same to him?”

Hazel tilted her head. “Did he treat you like it didn’t?”

“No,” I admitted. “That’s the worst part. He treated me like I mattered.”

“Then maybe he’s scared. Doesn’t mean he’s gone.”

I let out a dry laugh. “He’s not exactly the king of communication. He leaves notes like he’s escaping a crime scene.”

Hazel smirked. “True. His emotional range is somewhere between a brick wall and an IKEA manual.”

I cracked a reluctant smile.

“But,” she said, her tone shifting, “you can’t make his choice for him. You can’t assume he’s already left just because the door’s open.”

I stared at the bouquet. “I just… I don’t want to need someone who might leave.”

Hazel was quiet for a beat. “You’re not weak for needing someone, Ruby. You’re human. Messy, brilliant, and full of too much heart—but human.”

I swallowed hard.

She nudged my arm. “You don’t have to chase him. But don’t hide, either. Don’t pretend it didn’t matter just because you’re scared.”

I looked down at my hands—still dusted with pollen, still trembling. “What if I fall harder than he does?”

Hazel stepped in front of me, cupping my face in her hands. “Then you’ll land, Ruby. You always do. But this time, maybe someone will be there to catch you.”

Her words sank in deep. I blinked back tears, nodding slowly.

Hazel stepped back and grinned. “Besides, if he bails, I know a guy who delivers cupcakes and revenge playlists.”

“Tempting,” I said, wiping my cheeks with a laugh. “But I think I need clarity more than cupcakes.”

Hazel leaned in, voice softer now. “Then ask for it. You’re allowed to want answers. You’re allowed to want him—if that’s what your heart is telling you.”

I looked at the flowers on the table—fresh, imperfect, beautiful in their chaos.

Maybe Hazel was right.

Maybe it wasn’t about whether Damien would stay or go.

Maybe it was about whether I was brave enough to stay true to what I wanted.

Even if it scared me.

Even if I had no idea how it would end.

…

The community center buzzed with energy. Paper lanterns floated like fireflies from the rafters, fairy lights twinkled around the floral arch I’d rebuilt from scratch, and the smell of peonies and lemon frosting drifted through the open doors. The Cedar Springs Spring Gala was officially in full swing, and I’d thrown myself into the final arrangements like my life depended on it.

Maybe it did.

“Careful with that garland!” I called across the room as two teens struggled with a tangled string of greenery. “We want whimsical, not strangled.”

I adjusted the hydrangea centerpiece on the welcome table for the fifth time, but my hands wouldn’t stop fidgeting. Not with the way my stomach flipped every time the door opened. Not with the knowledge that Damien might walk in—or might not.

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