I shake my head, taking a step back. My throat burns, my eyes stinging with tears I refuse to let fall. Not here. Not in front of her. Not when I’ve already humiliated myself enough by showing up.
“I—no. I shouldn’t have—” The words tangle on my tongue. “I’m sorry. I should go.”
“Kiera, wait—” River’s eyes widen, realization dawning across his face. “No, it’s not—Shelly just stopped by to bring me some bread. She’s just leaving.”
Shelly’s satisfied smile falters. “Actually, I was thinking?—”
“You’re leaving,” River says firmly, not taking his eyes off me. “Thank you for the bread.”
For a moment, Shelly just stands there, her mouth pressed into a pout. Then she sighs dramatically, brushing past River toward the door. As she passes me on the porch, she leans in close enough that only I can hear.
“Good luck,” she murmurs, and there’s something almost pitying in her tone that makes my skin crawl.
Then she’s gone, clicking down the walkway in her heels, and it’s just me and River and the gaping silence between us.
“Please come in,” River says quietly.
I force myself to look at him. Really look at him. There’s hurt in his eyes—hurt I put there—but there’s also something else. Something that looks like hope.
I nod, not trusting my voice, and step inside.
His house smells the same. Feels the same. But everything’s different now, isn’t it? I stand awkwardly in his entryway, my arms wrapped around myself, trying to hold all my breaking pieces together.
“Do you want anything?” River asks, and I can hear him trying to sound normal, trying to find solid ground. “Water? A cracker? Some more cooking practice?”
Despite everything, my lips twitch at that last one. But I shake my head. “No. I’m just—I came here to tell you something.”
The air between us shifts, growing dense and heavy. River goes still, his expression sobering as he watches me. “Why are you here, Kiera?”
The question isn’t unkind, but it’s not easy either. He’s shielding himself, and I don’t blame him.
I take a deep breath, gathering every ounce of courage I have left.
“I made a mistake.” The words come out barely above a whisper. “I shouldn’t have let you go. I was—I was too scared to take that leap and allow myself to fall in love with you.”
River doesn’t move. Doesn’t speak. Just stares at me with those eyes that see straight through every wall I’ve ever built.
“But I’m not scared anymore,” I continue, my voice growing stronger. “Or maybe I am, but I don’t care. Because being without you is worse than being afraid.”
Slowly, so slowly it feels like a dream, River closes the distance between us. His hands come up to frame my face, gentle and warm and steady.
“Are you really in love with me?” he asks, and his voice cracks just slightly on the words.
“Yes.” The admission rushes out of me, relief and terror all at once. “I think I’ve been in love with you ever since you ate my horrible matcha macarons and politely told me they were fine. Or maybe it was when you praised my goofy peanut butter and jelly sushi rolls. Or maybe even when you offered me the cooking job just so I could practice for the competition.”
A smile breaks across River’s face—that real smile, the one that transforms his whole expression. He pulls me closer, his arms wrapping around me like he’s afraid I might disappear.
“I’ve been in love with you,” he says against my hair, “ever since I watched you at Levi’s wedding. You were dancing with Skyler, and you let your walls down, just for a moment. Ever since then, my only goal in life was to get you to let your walls down for me.”
I tilt my face up to his, and he kisses me.
It’s different from our first kiss. Deeper. More certain. Like we’re both finally admitting something we’ve been trying to hide. His hands are in my hair, mine clutching the fabric of his shirt, and I feel like I’m coming home to a place I didn’t know I’d been searching for.
When we finally break apart, breathless and smiling, River slowly kisses both of my cheeks.
“You won,” he whispers.
“I know.”
