“That’s the most stubborn, frustrating logic I’ve ever heard.”
“I know.” A sad smile crosses her face. “But it’s mine. And I need you to respect it.”
What can I say to that? She’s asking me to watch her struggle and do nothing. To stand back while the woman I love faces down someone who might be dangerous.
Every instinct I have screams to fight this. To argue. To make her see reason.
But the determination in her eyes tells me I’ve already lost.
“Okay,” I breathe. “If that’s what you need.”
“It is.” She’s already moving toward the door. “I’ll pack my things this afternoon.”
“Em—”
Her voice is barely above a whisper. “Let me do this my way. Even if you think it’s wrong.”
Then she’s gone, leaving me standing alone in the conference room with the echo of her words and the weight of my own helplessness.
Blake finds me there ten minutes later.
“She left,” I say before he can ask.
“Left the meeting or left left?”
“Both. She’s moving back to the Inn.” I sink into a chair. “Says she needs space to prove she can handle Marcus on her own.”
Blake lets out a low whistle. “That’s... stubborn.”
I laugh, but there’s no humor in it. “She’d rather drown than accept a life preserver.”
“So, what are you going to do?”
I think about the restraining orders. The harassment pattern. The thirty-seven messages today alone.
“I’m going to respect her wishes,” I say slowly. “And hate every second of it.”
“That’s it?”
“No.” I look at my brother. “I’m also going to make sure she’s safe. Even if she never knows I’m doing it.”
“Ry—”
“I know. It’s what she doesn’t want. But Blake—” My voice cracks. “If something happens to her because I stood back and did nothing, I’ll never forgive myself.”
He’s quiet for a long moment. “What do you need?”
“Keep going on what you can find about Marcus Gimbleton. Give Officer Tiddle a heads-up on this guy and the situation. And I want to know if he’s in Peachwood Grove.”
“You think he’d come here?”
“I think a guy who sends thirty-seven harassing messages in one day is capable of anything.”
Blake nods.
After he leaves, I sit in the empty conference room, my phone in my hand, Ember’s last text still on the screen: I’ll see you at the fundraiser.
The fundraiser is in three days.
