Eli nodded, not rushing me. Just sat, hands clasped around his own glass, a study in patience.
So I tried to lay it all out, the words stumbling at first, then gaining momentum. “Since the termite thing, it’s like everything’s fallen off a cliff. The budget we fought for, gone. I’m supposed to have all the answers. I sold everyone this dream. All ofthis”—I gestured vaguely, encompassing the resort, Harper, Finn, maybe even this damn house—“and now I might have to cut out half the stuff that makes the place unique, that makes it worth saving. Every choice feels like a lose-lose. And all I can think is, if I screw up… If I mess this up for Harper, for Finn, and your whole family, it proves every voice in my head that says I’m not cut out for this. That the real me, the one who builtthishouse as a shield, the one who always picks the safe play, was right all along.”
My hands trembled slightly. I forced them to still, finally meeting his dark blue eyes. “I’m not scared of the work. Or the numbers. I’m scared of letting them down, Eli. I bought Finn a new tool belt at the home improvement store, but I haven’t given it to him. Because I’m scared shitless. Scared of how easy it was to pick up something just for him, how much I already need them both. That’s the part that gets to me. Needing someone, needing a family… and not knowing if I can keep them whole.”
The silence thickened, broken only by the faint tick of the antique clock in the wall.
“I don’t know how to do this,” I said. “I’ve always felt like my parents screwed me up. I don’t know how to be all of it—the guy who saves the business, makes her feel safe, who never leaves, who’s always got the next plan. Right now, it feels like I’m failing on every front.”
Eli took a long pull from his bourbon, just looking at me over the rim. “All right. That’s the realest I’ve ever heard you talk.” He let the words settle, almost smiling, but gentler. “Can I be practical for a second?”
I shrugged, feeling hollowed out but lighter for saying it.
Eli steepled his hands. “Look, I get it. Relationship stuff is heavy. So let’s break it down. Right now, what’s the biggest fire? The one you have to put out to even start thinking straight again?”
I snorted, but it was as close as I’d come to laughter in two days. “It’s the money. We need serious cash, fast, just to cover the structural work. If we can’t pay for that, none of the rest matters. I’ll have to gut the renovations, pause everything, maybe even tell everyone we’ve got to start over in a year. And picturing Harper’s face when I say that…” I broke off, the image enough to gut me.
Eli leaned forward, sharper now. “Okay. How much are we talking? And is there any way to get it without running up the resort’s debt or bankrupting yourself? Sell the fishing boat, hawk Eli’s Greatest Hits on CD?”
That did get a laugh out of me—short, dry, but real.
“No boat or mixtape is covering this, man. We’re talking… low six figures, bare minimum.” I found myself scanning his face for judgment.
But there wasn’t any. “Okay. So any solutions you haven’t thought of yet?”
“None.” I raked a hand through my hair, mimicking his gesture. “Not without a new loan in my name, but I’m not sure I could get approved for how much we need. And we need a lot of cash, pronto. I don’t know…”
My words trailed off as the gears, at last, started to turn again. Not the panicked thrashing from before. More like the click of something new locking in place.
My gaze swept across the room again—the hand-plastered walls, the restored Dade County pine floors, the view out to the lushly landscaped garden. Assets. Just not ones I liked to think about liquidating.
“My house,” I said, the words feeling foreign in this space I’d poured my soul into. “It’s worth a fortune. Historical designation, great location, and with the magazine spreads… Hell, I’ve had a client, Arthur Albright, who’s told me more than once if I ever decided to sell, to call him first. Name my price.”
Eli’s jaw practically hit the floor, his glass halfway to his lips. He gestured around the stunning room. “You’d sellthisplace? You’ve spent years on it. This house is… you.”
“Yeah, but…”
The idea of sacrificing this monument to my past self was like pulling a tooth with my bare hands. Painful. But under it, a sudden charge. Resolve. As the image of Harper’s exhausted face, Finn’s trusting grin, and the chaotic warmth of their cottage superimposed itself over my flawless living room, a different kind of certainty clicked into place.
This perfect house was a shell.
Harper and Finn were where life was, wherehomewas for me now. I ran a hand along the smooth, cool arm of the sofa. “This place is what I used to want. Ordered, impeccable, detached. But it’s never felt like a home. I canalways restore another house. Another Harper…? Not so much. If I blow this with her…”
Eli smiled, crooked and proud. “You’re further gone than I thought.”
I grinned for the first time in what felt like days, the decision solidifying, chasing away some of the exhaustion. “Maybe so. I’ve never been in love before.” I froze for a moment, hardly able to believe I’d admitted that out loud. Already, the urgency was waking me up from the inside out. My body still ached, but it felt like momentum now.
His smile softened at the corners. “Yeah, this whole being in love thing is new to me too. But I’m catching on.”
“Well, keep your big mouth shut about what I just said. That’s the first time I’ve said it out loud, and your ugly mug wasn’t who I had in mind to say it to.”
“Don’t worry about that.” Eli’s grin faded. “Are you sure about selling the house, man? That’s a massive move.”
“I’m sure.” I nodded. The rightness of it, a strange mix of relief and wildness, coursed through me. “It’s not just about Harper. I’m a partner in this damn thing now. My ass is on the line too.”
Eli sat back, shaking his head like he’d just watched a stuntman land a jump. “I should have known you’d go big or go home. And apparently, home is optional.”
“It is when you’ve got something better.”
I pulled my phone out, already scrolling through my contacts until I found Albright’s number—the one who’d walked this very house with me after the magazine spread, eyes lit up, promising obscene cash if I ever called.
Eli raised his glass. “For what it’s worth, I think you’re making the right call.”
“Hope so.” My thumb hovered over the screen. This house represented years of work, a gratifying kind ofsuccess. But it didn’t hold a candle to the messy, complicated, terrifyingly wonderful future I saw with Harper.
There was only one way to find out if I could secure it.
I hit call. The phone began to ring, loud in my ear, softly echoing in the perfect acoustics of the room I was about to let go of.
Maybe this time, doing the hardest thing was exactly what love looked like. And maybe that didn’t make it so hard after all.
