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Victoria flinched. She dragged her gaze away from Emma with obvious effort, forcing a polite smile toward the landing. "Yes. Room Three. On your right."

Her voice shook slightly. She reached down, hauling the two heavy bags back into her grip, before looking down at Emma with wide, raw eyes.

"Wait for me," Victoria whispered. "Please."

Emma gave a single, calm nod. She turned on her heel and walked down the hall, pushing through the swinging door into the kitchen to give them both room to breathe.

The kitchen had been completely overhauled. The ancient, peeling plaster was gone, replaced by clean white subway tile. In the corner where the old temperamental oven had stood sat a commercial deck oven with dual doors and digital temperature displays. Resting on the massive butcher-block island was an industrial black mixer.

The swinging door flew open.

Victoria rushed into the room, letting the wood slap shut behind her. She wiped her palms down the front of her denim, her chest heaving, the icy facade she was so used to seeing nowhere in sight.

"The oven has a five-year warranty," Victoria blurted out, the words tumbling out in a frantic rush. "We can exchange it tomorrow if you prefer a different brand. Or if you don’t want it at all. The technicians checked the wiring twice, but I kept all the original manuals. And the plumbing under the sink was completely replaced all the way to the street, and the mixer—"

"Victoria," Emma interrupted, her voice steady, cutting cleanly through the panic.

Victoria stopped talking, her chest rising and falling in rapid, uneven breaths, staring at Emma as if waiting for a sentence to be handed down.

“What happened?”

Chapter Twenty-Eight

Victoria

"What happened?" The question hung across the kitchen, sharp with the smell of lemon oil and damp wood. Victoria stopped talking, her chest rising and falling in uneven breaths as the refrigerator kicked into a low hum.

The silence stretched across the kitchen, sharp with the smell of lemon oil and damp wood. The refrigerator kicked into a low hum. Her pulse hammered at the base of her throat, so loud it crowded out everything else. Her fingers were trembling, and when she pressed her palms flat against her thighs to stop it, the denim felt coarse and foreign under her skin. Almost twenty years of running rooms full of men who wanted to tear her apart, and none of it mattered. She was just standing by an empty counter, terrified that Emma was about to turn around and walk away.

"The water pressure was causing a backup in the secondary pipes," she said, the words spilling out too fast, too breathless. "The boiler was completely dead, Emma. It was going to blow the moment the temperature dropped below zero, so I had them replace the whole line. And the floorboards behind the pantry—don't worry, they kept the original pine, but the dry rot was—"

"No," Emma interrupted. She took a slow step forward, her green eyes locked onto Victoria’s face. "What happened to you, Victoria? Six months ago you did not even know how to make a bed. I leave for three months and I come back to find you playing innkeeper?"

Victoria stiffened, her chin lifting on pure instinct. "I knew perfectly well how to make a bed."

Emma raised an eyebrow, offering a deeply skeptical look. "You know exactly what I mean."

She paused, the stubborn reflex cracking almost immediately. Her fingers loosened their grip on the hem of her cardigan, falling limp against her sides. A strange stillness settled over her face, stripping away the frantic energy of the last ten minutes.

Emma did not look away. Her green eyes were sharp. They offered no escape. She stood with her hands tucked inside her coat, projecting an unshakable confidence. She was no longer the grieving girl hiding behind a flour sack. She was a woman who knew her worth and Victoria just wanted to lose herself in her blonde locks.

"Why did you say those things to me?" Emma asked, stepping closer. "You stood there in front of Harrison and spoke like I didn't even matter. Like I was just another problem you had to sweep off the floor before catching your train. You broke my heart, Victoria. Why?"

Victoria flinched. The words struck her chest like physical blows. She wanted to look away, but she forced herself to hold Emma’s gaze. She owed her the truth.

"Because I had to," Victoria whispered. Her voice fractured. She choked on a breath, fighting the surge of adrenaline in her veins. "Emma, the second Harrison realizes someone matters to me, he uses them as leverage. I couldn't give him that. I had to make him think I didn't care, or he never would have let it go."

She took a hesitant step forward. Her boots made no sound against the floorboards.

"I'm not sorry I lied to him," Victoria continued, her voice trembling but resolute. "I would do it a thousand times to get this house back. But I am so incredibly sorry I lied to you. I let you find out about everything from a stranger in the hallway. I didn’t know how to put a stop to it because I was terrified of what I was feeling. That is on me, Emma. I was a coward."

A quiet catch gave way in Emma’s throat. She looked at Victoria, seeing the unguarded remorse in her dark eyes. The anger that had sustained Emma for three months broke, leaving only the raw, bruised truth underneath.

"I called you his creature," Emma whispered, shaking her head, the shame finally bleeding into her voice. "That night in the hallway. I threw Joe's letters in your face, even though I knew Harrison kept them from you. I knew it wasn't your fault. I already knew you weren't like him, Victoria. But I was so terrified of you leaving that I just wanted to hurt you back."

Victoria closed her eyes for a brief second, absorbing the words. She didn't argue. She didn't defend herself. She just gave a single nod of understanding.

"I deserved it. I went upstairs and packed my bags because I thought leaving was the only way to keep him away from you," she said, her hands grasping for the words. "But while Harrison stood in the hall, talking down to us, he made a joke. He said Vance’s offer was final unless a miracle buyer showed up willing to pay double the valuation."