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Even though my dad is still talking and yelling something to Cindy and Ariel, Vincent doesn’t take his eyes off of me.

I want to tell him I’ve missed him. I want to tell him I forgive him. I look at him and I know I can’t spend another minute apart from him. I look at this man so strong and commanding, who seems so nervous and unsure of himself as he stares at me, and I know I will forgive him for anything. Because that’s what you do with someone you love. He changed me. His standoffish, rude behavior in the beginning gave me a voice and made me want to stand up for myself, prove I could be strong and do what I want with my own life. I owe him so much for that. I owe him my forgiveness and my whole heart.

I want to tell him so many things, but I can’t make the words come out. I’m not going to make the same mistake as before and jump into something without knowing all the facts first. Hearing it from PJ is one thing. I need to hear it from Vincent himself. Maybe I don’t need the big, romantic gesture anymore, or the romantic, flowery words, but I still need something. I just need to know that it all wasn’t a lie.

“Will you go somewhere with me?”

It’s not exactly what I thought his first words to me would be, but I’m too busy thinking about how much I missed the low, gruff sound of his voice as well to care.

“Do I have a choice?” I ask, not wanting to make this easy on him.

“Not really.”

He gives me my favorite lip twitch, and my heart beats even faster.

“You do realize they’re all going to follow us, right?”

Vincent finally looks away from me to glance over his shoulder at my dad, Cindy, and Ariel, all standing right behind him with huge, eager smiles on their faces. He turns back to me.

“I’m actually counting on it. I might need them to hold you down if you try to leave again.”

I glare at him as he steps out of the doorway and walks past me, then shoot my angry look at my father and friends.

“Traitors,” I mutter at them as they happily follow behind Vincent, with my dad bringing up the rear and closing the door behind him.

* * *

Vincent remained quiet when we got in his truck, and I spent the entire ride sending angry texts to all three of the turncoats in the car behind us. With my head down, typing furiously on my phone, I wasn’t paying attention to where we were going. I don’t look up until the truck comes to a stop. When I see where we are, I shake my head and blink back tears.

“What are you doing? It’s closed,” I whisper, staring out the windshield at my library.

I never bothered coming back here in the last week, and it hurts to be here now, knowing I can’t go inside. Mrs. Potter and I both made numerous phone calls to the board, none of which was returned, aside from one call I got from Mrs. Anderson, who swore she did everything she could, even threatening her husband’s life if he didn’t reopen the place. Unfortunately, it was too late and the decision was made.

Vincent gets out of the truck and comes around to my side, opening the door and holding his hand out for me.

“Trust me. Please. I know I haven’t given you much reason to do that, but I swear to you, I will never do anything that will hurt you again. Just please, trust me on this,” Vincent pleads.

Swallowing back the tears, I tentatively press my hand into his, immediately believing his words when just the feel of his big, warm hand around mine makes me feel safe.

He pulls me out of the truck, and we walk hand-in-hand up to the doors of the library. Looking back at me over his shoulder, he gives me a nervous smile as he grabs onto the handle and opens the door.

“What the—”

My words of shock are cut off as he tugs me inside, where it’s dark, and the smell of old books surrounding me makes the tears threaten again.

Suddenly all the lights go on, and I jump when a loud chorus of “Surprise!” echoes around the room.

Holding back the tears is useless at this point. Standing in front of the reference desk is not only Mrs. Potter, but also all twenty of my former employees whom I’d had to let go, all wearing excited smiles on their faces.

“What is happening right now?” I ask as a tear rolls down my cheek and Vincent squeezes my hand, which he still holds firmly in his own.

As I stare at all of the people, Mrs. Anderson suddenly pushes through the crowd and makes her way across the room to us.

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