I wasn’t going to cry.
Not here. Not now.
But damn if my heart didn’t feel like it had been wrapped in barbed wire and given a long, slow twist.
There was a knock on the pantry door.
Soft.
Hesitant.
For one split second, hope flared again—sharp and painful.
But it wasn’t him.
It was Violet’s voice, muffled and sweet. “Fifi? You okay?”
I drew a shaky breath and called back, “Yeah. Just... restocking the heartbreak shelf.”
She didn’t push.
Didn’t open the door.
Bless her for that.
I wasn’t ready for anyone to see me like this.
Not yet.
Maybe not ever.
I tilted my head back against the wall and closed my eyes.
I had guests to greet.
Rooms to clean.
A heart to patch back together.
And whatever Ben Jensen’s silence meant?
I’d have to survive it.
Because he’d made his choice loud and clear—
And I was done begging for the words he wouldn’t say.
And I was hoping I didn’t just earn our lodge a one star.
Chapter Thirty-Eight
Ben
I made it halfway up the stairs before I had to stop.
My hand gripped the banister like I needed it to breathe, and my chest felt too tight for the air in it. I could still hear her voice—sharp, trembling, full of hurt.
Are you married?
