And somewhere along the way I found love andmyself. Through the most unlikely marriage of convenience that I could have never planned if I’d tried.
The moment the plane touches down, my phone buzzes to life in my hand, lighting up with missed calls, emails, and text messages from clients back east.
Dad swore most of them were stable enough for our junior associates or Dierks to handle, but that doesn’t stop them from reaching out to complain or, often, just to chat.
In the past they’ve been the closest thing to friends that I’ve had. At least, that’s how I used to feel before I found real friendship with Rhiannon, Eden, Gabriel, Natasha and Boone.
I scan the messages quickly, deleting what doesn’t need a response and forwarding to one of the junior associates what they can handle. But then, one message stops me in my tracks.
Boone:I’m coming for you. Hang tight, Rosie. This isn’t over.
Boone: I’m not done fighting for you.
Boone: I’m not finished fighting for us.
I read the messages again. Then re-read just to be sure I haven’t hallucinated. My heart starts racing faster.
I should’ve told him I was leaving town. I know that now. But Dad had barely given me enough space to think, let alone prepare for my new three-month assignment before shoving me toward the airport with the weight of his heavy expectations and those divorce papers in my briefcase.
I’d stared at them a thousand times during the flight, my stomach churning as I relived every moment from the weekend.
In the end, I buried them deep in my bag, vowing not to make any permanent decisions while my emotions were still such a mess.
Maybe I shouldn’t have pushed him away. Maybe we could’ve spent the weekend together figuring things out.
He told me he loved me—blurted it out in the heat of a moment where we were supposed to be acting—and I jumped to conclusions, convinced it was just part of the game, and furious that he'd caught me off guard.
But deep down I know it wasn’t pretend. I know it wasn’t a snap decision for him to say those words. And once I pushed my insecurities out of the way, I believe, deeply, that he’s felt that way for a while now.
Because I love him too.
The terminal buzzes around me as I pull out my phone, ready to finally call him back. But before I can hit dial, his name lights up my screen.
Incoming call: Boone Tremblay.
My breath catches, and I swipe to answer, my voice shaking.
“Boone… hi.”
“Rosie.” His voice is rough, panting like he’s been running. “Fuck, you finally answered the phone.”
I press my free hand to my chest, trying to steady my breathing. “I did. I'm sorry I haven't been.”
“You didn’t sign the paperwork.”
The words hit me square in the chest, and I feel tears burning behind my eyes as I swipe at them clumsily. I’m walking through a bustling airport terminal, one of the largest in the world, crying for anyone to see and I don’t care.
“I… I didn’t,” I admit quietly. “Did you already give yours to Cain?”
“Fuck no,” he says without hesitation, his voice firm, almost indignant.
It makes me laugh—a choked, tear-streaked sound that feels like the first real breath I’ve taken since I walked away from him in the restaurant.
“I love you, Rosie,” he says, and this time, it’s slower like he’s savoring it. “Dammit, I wish I hadn’t said it for the first time in that setting when we were supposed to be acting, and I wish I wasn't saying it for the second time without looking you in your eyes so you could see how serious I am about this. I know I blindsided you, and I’m so sorry for that. But the script they wanted me to stick to… it was a lie. When it came time to execute on it, I couldn’t do it. It felt like vomiting trying to say something I knew wasn’t true.”
I stop walking, my hand gripping the strap of my bag as his words sink in. I can feel the emotions I’ve been holding back rise to the surface, but for the first time, they don’t terrify me.
“Boone…” My voice cracks, and I hear him suck in a sharp breath, like he’s bracing for whatever comes next.
