Page 62 of The Contractor's Rose
“You’re right,” she said finally. “We’ve made a lot of choices that looked like support but were really just … management. Really poor management. We’ve treated your life like a project.”
I didn’t respond. She stepped forward and wrapped her arms around me.
I didn’t expect it, not so soon after everything I’d just said, but I sank into it anyway. Her perfume—jasmine and lavender—smelled the same as it had when I was little.
After a long moment, she whispered against my hair, “Does he treat you well?”
I pulled back enough to look at her. “What?” Her eyes matched mine, shiny with tears, but her face didn’t crumple. It justheldthem, soft and open.
She lifted one hand and rested it gently on my cheek. Her fingers were cool. Her thumb didn’t move, it just stayed there like an anchor.
“I’ve known Gavin a long time,” she said. “He’s not a talker. Not unless something’s broken or someone bought the wrong tiles. But out there? Tonight?” She gave a small shake of her head. “He spoke more during that dinner than I’ve heard him speak at any meeting in the last ten years.”
I swallowed, stunned by the honesty in her voice.
“That man grunts through birthday parties,” she added quietly, with a whisper of a smile. “But for you? He made conversation. He took a side. He looked right at your father and didn’t flinch.” My brow furrowed as I tried to absorb it all. “He’s paying attention. And you deserve someone who does.”
A silence settled between us again—this one less sharp, more like something wrapping around the edges.
“I just want you to be happy,” she said. “Even if it’s not the version you think we imagined for you.”
I nodded, chest tight. “Iamhappy. With him. It’s just … complicated.”
She gave my cheek one last pat and stepped back. “Most real things are.”
After a long moment, I whispered, “I am scared to tell Dad.” She said nothing at first. So I kept going. “I don’t want this to come between everyone. Between Dad and I. Or between him and Gavin as business partners. It already feels fragile. I don’t want to be the reason it breaks.” I pulled back a little, my voice barely above a breath. “I don’t want to have to choose between him and Gavin. Because I don’t think I can.”
Mom’s eyes held mine. They were clear, watery but steady.
“You won’t have to,” she said simply. “Don’t worry about your father. I’ll handle him.” I blinked, surprised. A smile tugged at her lips, small and tired. “He’s stubborn, but he listens to me. Eventually. And if he doesn’t, well …” She shrugged. “I’ll make him.”
Despite everything, I let out a breathy laugh. “You’re scary when you want to be.”
“I’m a mother,” she said with a wink. “It’s part of the job.”
Then her expression shifted again—gentler, searching. She looked at me closely.
We both glanced at the door.
“You ready?” she asked.
I nodded again, steadier this time. “Yeah.”
EPILOGUE ONE – ROSEMARIE
TWO WEEKS LATER
There are no more ladders,exposed drywall, buckets of paint, or electrical wires sticking out from the walls here and there. The shop is … the shop again. And now, as of tomorrow, it will officially be reopened. Resurrected. Not just patched together, but transformed—rebuilt with warmth, detail, and so much care that it made my chest ache when I looked around. There was so much more ofmein it now.
To celebrate the fact I hadn’t gone fully off the rails during the whole experience, Elodie was coming over tonight for a girls’ night and to help put the final touches on the front window display. She said I needed one more night of too much wine, all-night gossip, and coma by carbs before I became responsible again.
I was currently standing in line at the grocery store, staring down into my cart with a small amount of pride. Two pints of ice cream—one triple chocolate fudge (mine) and one key lime pie swirl (Elodie, obviously). Two bottles of wine. Three frozen pizzas, because how can you just pick one topping option? And a box of those sparkly fairy lights sheswore would make the display “look like a Hallmark movie threw up, but in a good way.”
I pulled out my phone and sent Gavin a picture of the cart, followed by a caption:
ME
Survival kit.
