“It means you’ve been hiding here for four years, and maybe it’s time to remember there’s life beyond these walls.” Ellie reached out and squeezed his shoulder. “And she needs to see that you’re not just the hermit author she’s been working with.”
“I don’t know if she’d want…”
“Ask her,” Ellie interrupted. “What’s the worst that could happen? She says no, and you continue working together exactly as you have been. But if she says yes…” She let the possibility hang in the air.
Corbyn nodded slowly, though his mind was already spinning with logistical concerns. London meant crowds, meant exposure, meant all the things he’d been avoiding since the accident. But the thought of Sadie seeing the city, of showing her places that mattered to him, was surprisingly appealing.
“I should go,” Ellie said, glancing at her watch. “Early surgery tomorrow. But Corbie?” She waited until he met her eyes. “Whatever this is between you two, don’t overthink it to death. Some things are worth taking a risk for.”
She kissed his cheek and gathered her medical bag, leaving him alone in the kitchen with his thoughts. Upstairs, Sadie was settling into sleep, safe and protected, and this allowed him to breathe a little easier.
When he finally made his way upstairs, he found Riley exactly where Edie had said he’d be, stretched across the threshold of the Blue Room like a furry sentinel. The dog lifted his head as Corbyn approached, tail thumping once against the floor in greeting.
“Good boy,” Corbyn whispered, bending to scratch behind Riley’s ears. “Keep her safe.”
Riley’s warm brown eyes held a steady, knowing calm, and he settled back down with a contented sigh.
As he finally retreated to his own room, Corbyn felt something shift inside his chest—a loosening of the tight control he’d maintained for so long. Ellie was right, even if he’d never admit that out loud. Some things were worth taking a risk for.
And Sadie Reed, he was beginning to realize, might just be worth risking it all.
March 5, 2025
-Sadie-
Sadie jolted awake just before dawn with Nate’s voice still ringing in her head. She inhaled deeply, counting to four, then exhaling for four. It was a technique her therapist had taught her for panic attacks, and she continued the pattern until her pulse began to slow. The Blue Room’s unfamiliar ceiling came into focus, and all the memories from the previous night rushed back.
A soft squeak drew her attention to the door where Riley’s massive head appeared. His eyes met hers, and he pushed his way inside, the hinges groaning in complaint. The Irish Wolfhound rested his chin on her mattress, his gaze unwavering until she scratched behind his ears.
“I’m alright, boy,” she whispered, ignoring the quiver in her voice.
The bandage on her arm caught her eye in the dim light, and the wound throbbed. It wasn’t terribly painful, but it was a persistent reminder of everything that had happened. Less than twelve hours ago, she’d been giving herself a mental pep talk about maintaining boundaries where Corbyn was concerned,and now… now she was staying in his home in a room just down the hall from his own.
Through the now-open door, Sadie could hear the sounds of someone moving about the kitchen and smell coffee beckoning her. Her stomach fluttered, but it wasn’t due to hunger. Everyone in this house had seen her at her most vulnerable last night, and they had taken care of her as if she were part of their family.
The concept of a found family was something she had only ever read about. It was clear, though, that the bond between the Pearce siblings and Edie and Paul was unbreakable. Last night had given her a tiny glimpse into what it would be like to be a part of that, and the memory of Ellie and Edie taking care of her had a slow warmth unfurling in her chest.
A short while later, she emerged from the ensuite bathroom dressed for the day. Riley gave a little grumble as she approached, moving behind her to give her back a little shove with his snout. It was clear his loyalty was being tested by the promise of breakfast.
“Alright, handsome,” she laughed, scratching under his chin. “Let’s see who else is up.”
She found Corbyn in the kitchen, standing at the counter with his back to her, methodically measuring coffee grounds with his right hand while his left rested at his side. He’d dressed in dark jeans and a thick gray sweater, his hair slightly mussed as if he’d been running his fingers through it. She found her own fingers itching to do the same, but she pushed that thought aside.
“Morning,” she said softly, not wanting to startle him.
Corbyn turned, and she caught the flicker of relief that crossed his features when he saw her.
“You’re up early. Couldn’t sleep?”
“Not really.” Sadie moved further into the kitchen, drawn by the rich aroma of brewing coffee. “You?”
“Same.” He reached for a second mug without asking, adding it to the counter beside his own. “Bad night for both of us, I guess.”
There was something in his tone that made her study his face more closely. Dark circles shadowed his eyes, and she realized he’d probably slept even less than she had. Her shoulders drooped as it suddenly occurred to her that last night had not simply affected her but everyone who was involved.
“I’m sorry for bringing all this drama into your life,” she told him softly, not knowing what else to say.
“Don’t.” Corbyn’s response was immediate, and the intensity in his eyes stopped her cold. “Don’t apologize for being the victim of someone else’s poor choices.”
