"Absolutely not," Reece and I say in unison.
"Worth a shot." She grins, then glances at the stove. "Also, that bacon is definitely a lost cause. Want me to make pancakes?"
***
Two hours later, after pancakes and more awkward-but-necessary conversation, Jett finally heads back to her car. She hugs me tight at the door, whispering, "I'm happy for you. Really. Just...don't shut me out again, okay?"
"I won't," I promise, and I mean it.
As she drives away, I lean back against Reece's chest, his arms coming around me automatically. "That went better than I thought."
"Told you she'd understand."
"She was hurt, though. I hate that we hurt her."
"I know. But she'll forgive us. She already has, really." He presses a kiss to the top of my head. "We good?"
"Yeah. We're good."
We stand there for a moment, watching the dust settle from Jett's departure, and I let myself breathe for what feels like the first time in days.
Then my phone rings.
I pull it out, and Nathan's name flashes on the screen. My stomach drops.
"Who is it?" Reece asks.
I should tell him. I should answer the phone right now and have this conversation with him standing next to me. But old habits die hard, and before I can stop myself, I'm saying,
"Nobody important. Just a spam call."
I silence the phone and slip it back in my pocket, ignoring the way guilt settles heavy in my chest.
Reece doesn't push, but I can feel the question in the way he holds me just a little tighter.
Later, when Reece heads out to check on the horses and I'm alone in the quiet of his living room, I call Nathan back.
"McKenna," he says, and I can hear the relief in his voice. "I'm glad you called. I have some news."
"Nathan, I—"
"The donor backed off. They're not pulling funding after all." He pauses. "If you want your job back, it's yours. You can start right after the new year."
My throat tightens. "What changed their minds?"
"Does it matter? The point is, you have a choice now. You can come back. The kids miss you. Lauren misses you. Hell, even I miss having you on staff." I close my eyes, willing myself to feel something other than dread. This is what I wanted, isn't it? Job security. Stability. A reason to stop feeling like I'm drifting.
So why does the thought of leaving Havenwood feel like losing something I can't get back?
"Can I think about it?" I ask quietly.
"Of course. But I'll need an answer by Friday. The board is meeting next week, and they want everything finalized before January."
"Friday. Got it."
"McKenna?" Nathan's voice softens. "For what it's worth, I hope you come back. But I also hope you're making this choice for you, not because you think it's what you're supposed to do."
After we hang up, I sit there in the stillness, staring at the Christmas tree Reece and I decorated together, at the stockings hanging on the mantel, at the mistletoe in the hallway that started all of this. Friday. I have until Friday to decide. And I have no idea what I'm going to choose.
