“Farley?” Gladys’s voice, gentler than I’d ever heard it. “Can I come in?”
I didn’t answer, but she came in anyway.
She settled onto the bed beside me, and for a long moment, neither of us spoke. Outside, someone called Samuel’s name again. I flinched.
“That ex of yours is gone,” she said finally. “I told him if I saw his face on my property again, I’d introduce him to my shotgun. He believed me.”
“Good.”
“That agent woman is still here. She’s on her phone, talking about ‘damage control.’” Gladys made quotation marks with her fingers, her tone dripping with disdain. “Horrible woman. No soul behind her eyes.”
“That sounds like her.”
“And Samuel...” She paused. “Samuel is still in the living room. He won’t leave.”
My chest tightened. “I told him to go.”
“I know. I heard.” She turned to look at me, her weathered face thoughtful. “I also heard what he said to that agent. After you closed the door.”
“What did he say?”
“After you left, Sabrina told him this was his chance. Said the drama of a breakup would play even better than the romance. Suggested he do a tearful interview about heartbreak in the mountains—really milk it for the sympathy angle.” Gladys’s jaw tightened. “You know what he said?”
I shook my head.
“He said, ‘I would rather never work again than let you turn the best thing that’s ever happened to me into content.’ Then he told her if she contacted any outlet about you—even hinted at your name—he’d sue her into the ground and make sure she never represented anyone in this industry again.” Gladys’s eyes were bright. “That boy meant it, Farley. I’ve seen a lot of people make threats. That wasn’t a threat. That was a promise.”
I stared at her. “He said that?”
“Word for word. I was impressed.” She patted my knee. “That boy stood between you and her like he was ready to take a bullet. When’s the last time someone did that for you?”
I thought about Ollie. How every time I’d needed defending, he’d looked the other way. He was too concerned with his own comfort to rock any boats.
“Never,” I admitted. “No one’s ever...”
“That’s what I thought.” Gladys stood up, smoothing her flannel shirt. “Now, I’m not going to tell you what to do. You’re a grown man, and I’m just the lady who rents you a cabin. But I will say this: that circus out there? It’s not Samuel’s fault. He didn’t invite them. He didn’t want them. And the second they showed up, his first instinct wasn’t to protect his career or his image. It was to protect you.”
She walked to the door, then paused.
“The cat is sitting on his lap right now. She won’t leave him alone.” A small smile. “That cat’s never wrong about people, Farley. Not once in all the years I’ve known her.”
She left, closing the door softly behind her.
I sat there, her words echoing in my head.
His first instinct was to protect you.
That cat’s never wrong about people.
I thought about last night. About the way Samuel had looked at me, the way he’d held me, the way he’d made me feel seen in a way I hadn’t felt in years. Maybe ever.
This morning, making breakfast together, moving around each other like we’d been doing it for years.
I thought about the look on his face when I’d called his life a circus. Like I’d taken everything we’d built and smashed it on the floor.
And I thought about Ollie—showing up the moment I was happy with someone else, trying to poison what I had with Samuel, framing it as concern when it was really just jealousy and control.
Ollie had seen the video and wanted to claim me. Most likely because of his fragile ego. Samuel had seen photographers invade our privacy and stepped in front of me like a shield.
