The words hit hard. She was coming here for the key—to end it.
I let out a slow breath. “Fine. Then I’ll just start over. We hated each other once, and look how that turned out. I’ll win her back the same way I lost her—one argument at a time.”
That got him. He didn’t move, but something in his expression shifted—the faintest crack in the armor. A glimmer that almost looked like respect.
I left before he could say anything else. The envelope was still in my hand, creased from where I’d held it too tightly. I should’ve dropped it on his desk, but I couldn’t bring myself to let it go. It wasn’t his. And for a little while, it was proof that our marriage happened—that it was real, and messy, and so far from perfect that it should’ve been a cautionary tale.
But I wouldn’t change it. No—forget that. I hoped our next ceremony would be worse. I hoped it was so awful that fifty years from now we’d look back and know every single second after was the best moment of our lives. Because it would be.
The elevator dinged. I looked up just as Valerie stepped out.
Her coat was dusted with snow, hair piled in that messy knot I hadn’t had the pleasure of seeing enough of. A dash of lipstick, no other makeup, as if she were at war with the polished badge photo hanging around her neck.
“Grant,” she said, the air leaving her in a rush. “You’re here.”
I nodded once, stepping onto the elevator. “Merry Christmas, Spells.See you soon.”
Her brow furrowed, the faintest pull of confusion—or hope. Then the doors slid shut between us.
Chapter 29
Valerie
I wasn’t sure I’dever understand the Delaneys. Not the grandfather, and especially not Grant.
How could he just wish me aMerry Christmas, steal the air from my lungs with one look, and then step onto the elevator as if he was late for a tree lighting?
Grant Delaney was in for a very serious lecture once I tracked him down.
I left his grandfather’s office with my head high and a festive spring in my step. Mr. Delaney had looked surprised when I’d finished my rehearsed speech, but he hadn’t said a word—enigma that he was. He just nodded and slid a card across his desk, his home address printed neatly across the front.
So now I was headed for some gated community outside the city, because apparently, Grant didn’t have the decency to answer his phone.
This grand gesture business was a lot of running around. Which made sense since they always seemed to be running in the movies. Next time, I was wearing sneakers. And bringing my water bottle.
I punched the elevator button, dropping one floor to make a quick stop in my office. I kept an emergency makeup kit there, and I wasn’t showing up to the Delaney Christmas looking like an elf who’d pulled an all-nighter.
My heels clicked over the tile, the only sound in the empty office. Someone had left the tree on, and it blinked red and green like a Christmas stoplight. But those weren’t the only lights still on.
A glow spilled through the glass of my office door. I slowed and peered inside, my heart doing its little dance.
Grant stood near my desk, coat still on, one hand braced against the shelf where my sand globe collection caught the morning light. His head was bowed, shoulders drawn tight, like he was carrying the weight of the North Pole on his back.
I leaned against the frame, crossing my ankles. “Planning to steal one? You only get half of everything if I agree to it.”
He turned, startled, and the teasing grin vanished from my lips.
I’d never seen him look so exhausted. As if it wasn’t just sleep he’d lost, but a part of his soul. Then he tried to smile. It just didn’t have that Grant flair. The ache started in my throat and seeped down into my chest.
“I am so sorry,” I said, stepping into the office. “About everything. I wish I could take it all back.”
He made a low, rueful sound in the back of his throat. “Isn’t that what you’ve wanted this whole time? To change things?”
“Yeah,” I whispered, the word catching.
I wanted so badly to cross the room and slip into his arms. To tell him I was done running from the mess we made.
He didn’t look away, searching my eyes with that intensity that had always made me question whether I hated him or couldn’t live without him. The answer was easy now.
