So I do.
I tell her about Gerald showing up at Max's shop. About the poison he poured into Max's ear. About the doubt I saw creeping across Max's face, the walls rebuilding themselves brick by brick.
"That manipulative bastard," Sarah mutters when I'm done. "I knew something was off about him the moment I saw him at the inn. Too polished. Too controlled."
"He knows exactly what he's doing." I stare into my tea, watching the steam curl upward. "He found Max's weakness and exploited it. The guilt about my father, the fear that he's somehow taking advantage of me. Gerald weaponized all of it."
"And Max believed him?"
"I don't think he believed him exactly. But it fed into everything Max already fears about himself." I set down the cup before I can throw it at the wall. "He thinks he's broken. Thinks he doesn't deserve happiness. Gerald just confirmed every terrible thing Max has been telling himself for years."
Sarah is quiet for a moment. Miguel has appeared in the doorway, his dark eyes taking in the scene with the alert stillness of a man who's seen combat.
"What do you want to do?" he asks.
"I want to shake Max until he sees sense." I laugh bitterly. "I want to go back to the inn and tell Gerald exactly what I think of him. I want to scream at my mother for choosing him over me. Again."
"So do it."
I look up at Miguel. "What?"
"Do all of it." He moves into the room, settles onto the arm of Sarah's chair. "You came to Grizzly Ridge because you were tired of being controlled. Tired of being the good girl everyone expected. So stop being good. Fight for what you want."
"Max pushed me away."
"Men push." Miguel's mouth curves in a slight smile. "It's what we do when we're scared. Doesn't mean he actually wants you to leave."
"How do you know?"
"Because I did the same thing to Sarah." He reaches down and takes his wife's hand. "Pushed her away so many times I lost count. Told myself she deserved better. Told myself I was too broken, too damaged, too fucked up for someone like her."
Sarah squeezes his fingers. "And I refused to listen."
"She showed up at my door at two in the morning," Miguel continues. "Told me I was an idiot. Told me she wasn't going anywhere no matter how hard I pushed. Told me that she got to decide who was good enough for her, not me."
Something sparks in my chest. Small and fragile, but undeniably present.
Hope.
"Max isn't like other men," I say slowly. "He carries so much guilt about my father. About surviving when Dad didn't."
"Then help him put it down." Sarah leans forward. "Not by letting him push you away. By standing your ground and showing him that this is real. That you're not going anywhere."
I think about Max's face when he told me to leave. The pain beneath the coldness. The way his hands shook even as he pushed me toward the door.
He didn't want me to go.
He was just too scared to ask me to stay.
"There's something else," I say. "Gerald called Max a groomer. Implied that Max had been planning this for years. Waiting for me to grow up so he could..."
Sarah's expression darkens. "That's disgusting."
"It got into Max's head. All those years of sending money, keeping tabs on my family. Gerald made it sound calculated. Predatory."
"That's bullshit and you know it." Sarah's voice is fierce. "Max sent that money because he made a promise to a dying friend. He kept his distance for ten years because he felt guilty, not because he was planning some long game."
"I know that. But Max is struggling to believe it."
