Page 47 of Sweetly Yours

She laughs bitterly, and the sound sets my teeth on edge. “Oh, come on, Brock. You’re not stupid. You know what I mean. The tires, the house, the bakery... You didn’t actually think all that just happened by coincidence, did you?”

My stomach drops, and anger flares hot in my chest. My fingers tighten around the phone as I reach for my other hand to unlock the voice memo app, hitting record. “You’re saying that was you?” I ask, keeping my voice steady.

“Of course it was me!” she spits, her voice rising. “Who else would care enough to make sure you don’t ruin your life with someone like her?”

I bite back the fury threatening to explode and force myself to stay calm. “Tessa, do you even hear yourself right now? You slashed her tires, trashed her bakery, broke into her house... What the hell is wrong with you?”

“I was trying to save you, Brock!” she yells, her voice breaking. “She doesn’t deserve you! You’re supposed to be with me!”

I take a deep breath, keeping my tone even despite the storm raging inside me. “You think destroying her life is going to change anything? That’s not love, Tessa. That’s obsession.”

She laughs again, this time hollow and pathetic. “You just don’t get it. You’ll see one day. You’ll see I was right.”

“That day’s not coming,” I say coldly, ending the call and saving the recording.

I stare at the phone for a moment, my pulse pounding in my ears. She confessed. I have her words. And there’s no way in hell I’m letting her get away with this.

The drive to the police station feels longer than it should, the recording playing over and over in my head. Every word she said is like fuel on the fire burning in my chest.

When I step inside, Officer Harris looks up from the desk. He recognizes me immediately and raises an eyebrow. “Brock,” he says cautiously.

“I’ve got something,” I say, my voice clipped. “Something you need to hear.”

He leads me into a back office, and I sit across from him, pulling out my phone. “This is from Tessa,” I say, opening the recording and hitting play.

Her voice fills the room, slurred and full of venom, confessing to everything—slashing Willow’s tires, breaking into her house, and trashing the bakery.

When the recording ends, Harris leans back in his chair, letting out a low whistle. “Well,” he says slowly, “that’s about as good as a confession gets.”

“You’re going to arrest her, right?” I say, leaning forward, my voice hard.

Harris nods. “Absolutely. We’ll get the paperwork started and pick her up tonight.”

I exhale sharply, some of the tension easing from my chest, but not all of it. Not yet.

Hours later, Harris calls to confirm that Tessa’s been arrested, and for the first time in days, I feel like I can finally take a full breath.

When I pull into my driveway, the porch light is on, and Willow’s sitting on the steps with Frankie curled up beside her. She looks up as I get out of the truck, her expression tight with worry.

“What happened?” she asks, her voice soft but anxious.

I climb the steps and pull her into my arms, holding her close. “It’s over,” I say, my voice low.

She leans back to look at me, her eyes wide. “Over? What do you mean?”

“Tessa called,” I explain. “She was drunk, and she confessed to everything. The tires, the house, the bakery. I recorded the call and took it to the cops. She’s been arrested.”

Her lips part, and I can see the relief wash over her, her shoulders sagging as the tension leaves her body. “It’s really over?” she whispers.

“It’s really over,” I say firmly, brushing a strand of hair from her face. “She’s not going to hurt you anymore.”

Tears well up in her eyes, and she throws her arms around my neck, holding me tight. “Thank you,” she whispers against my shoulder.

I press a kiss to the top of her head, my arms wrapped securely around her. “You don’t have to thank me, baby. This is what I do. I protect what’s mine.”

And for the first time, I know we can finally move forward—together.

CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

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