Meryl searched his face, her own expression a complex mixture of emotions he couldn’t begin to untangle. “That’s a lot of power to give someone.”
“I know.” Spencer’s hands opened at his sides, empty, offering nothing but the truth. “But it’s yours. It always has been.”
Spencer had said everything he needed to say, laid bare the secret he’d been keeping since the moment he sensed her on that broken porch. There was nothing left to do. Nothing more to say.
For the first time in his life, the future he wanted most was entirely in someone else’s hands.
Chapter Twenty-One – Meryl
Mates. Spencer’s confession that he’d kept this from her so she could make her own choices without obligation shouldn’t come as a surprise. He’d always given her so much. Helped her so much.
Together, they had transformed Pine Cottage from a wreck into a home.
For them.
The thought startled her. When had she started thinking of Pine Cottage as theirs?
“I wasn’t planning to stay,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper. “When I came here, that was never my intention.”
“I know.” Spencer’s expression didn’t change. “You don’t have to now.”
But that was just it, wasn’t it? She didn’t have to stay. But she wanted to.
“I’ve spent my entire life leaving,” she said finally, taking a step toward him. “My mother never stayed anywhere long enough for roots to take hold. Always another town, another apartment, another school. I learned not to get attached.” She paused, gathering her courage. “I got very good at it.”
Spencer nodded, his eyes never leaving her face.
“But then I came here.” She gestured to the cottage. “And I told myself it was temporary. Just another place to fix up and leave behind.” A small, shaky laugh escaped her. “Except it didn’t feel temporary. Not when we were finding those brassfixtures at the salvage yard. Not when we were rebuilding this porch.”
She took another step closer.
“Not when you were here,” she finished softly.
Something shifted in Spencer’s expression, revealing a cautious hope that made her heart ache.
“Meryl…”
“I love you,” she said, knowing it was the honest truth she could no longer deny. “I wasn’t looking for this. I wasn’t looking for you. But I love you. And I love this place. And I don’t want to leave.”
The simplicity of it stole her breath. After all the weeks of fighting against attachment, of trying to keep her distance, the truth was suddenly plain.
She loved him. She loved Pine Cottage. And she was tired of moving on.
Spencer stayed very still, as if afraid any movement might break the moment. “Are you sure?” he asked, his voice rough.
“Yes,” she said, taking the final step that brought her directly in front of him. “I’m sure.”
She reached up and cupped his cheek, feeling the warmth of his skin, the slight rasp of stubble beneath her fingers. His eyes closed briefly at her touch, and she felt him tremble.
“I love you,” she said again, because she wanted him to hear it properly. “And I’m choosing this. I’m choosing you.”
Spencer’s arms came around her then, hesitant at first, then tightening as if he couldn’t bear any space between them. She felt the shudder that went through him as he buried his face in her hair.
“I love you,” he murmured against her temple. “I have from the beginning. But I needed it to be real. I needed you to choose.”
“I choose you,” she whispered. “I choose us.”
When he kissed her, it was different from the heated, desperate kisses they had shared before. This was slower, deeper, a sealing of promises. Meryl sank into it, letting herself feel the solid warmth of him against her, the night air cool on her skin, the distant call of an owl.
