Page 72 of The Valentine Agenda

The door chimed as he left, and James caught his reflection again in the window. He looked exactly like a man in love.

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"James?"

He turned at the familiar voice, the small jewelry box suddenly heavy in his pocket. Vanessa and Trevor stood there, her hand tucked comfortably in his arm, both of them radiating a warmth he'd never achieved in all his calculated perfection with her.

"I almost didn't recognize you," Vanessa said, but her tone held no judgment—just genuine surprise at his disheveled appearance. Her face softened with something like understanding. "Trevor told me. About Hannah."

James's hand tightened around the box in his pocket. "He did?"

Trevor's arm slipped around her waist, natural and protective. Not a possessive gesture, James realized, but a supportive one. The kind of touch that saidI'm hererather thanyou're mine.

"We were just looking at rings," Trevor said, his eyes bright with a joy James had never seen in their corporate meetings. "Though I guess that's not a surprise to you.”

Vanessa laughed—a real laugh, nothing like the practiced society sound she'd perfected during their time together. She took her eyes off Trevor long enough to glance at James. ”He told you?"

"He did." James found himself smiling, genuine warmth spreading through his chest at their obvious happiness. "Congratulations. Really."

"Thank you." Vanessa studied him for a moment, then added softly: "You know, I used to think there was only one way to be successful. One path to happiness." She leaned into Trevor, natural as breathing. "I'm glad we were both wrong about that."

James's throat tightened. Because she was right. They'd both been chasing a version of perfection that had nothing to do with actual joy.

"The teacher," Trevor said, echoing their office conversation with gentle understanding. "She's the real thing, isn't she?"

"Hannah," James corrected automatically, making them both smile. "Her name is Hannah."

Vanessa's eyes caught on his pocket, where his hand still curled around the jewelry box. Something knowing crossed her face. "You'll fix it," she said simply. "When it's real... you find a way to fix it."

The three of them stood there, surrounded by gleaming storefronts that suddenly seemed less important than the genuine emotions passing between them.

"Well," Trevor said finally, "we should—"

"Yes." James stepped back, letting them pass. But then: "Vanessa?"

She turned.

"I'm happy for you," he said softly. "For both of you. The real kind of happy."

Her smile was radiant—nothing like the perfect ones she'd practiced in mirrors. "You will be too, James. Just... be real with her. That's all any of us really want."

James watched them walk away, Vanessa tucked against Trevor's side, both of them glowing with the kind of happiness he'd never achieved with his careful curation of status and image.

He touched the jewelry box in his pocket again, thinking of Hannah's silver apple necklace. Of all the ways she'd taught him what actually mattered.

Maybe Vanessa was right.

Maybe when it was real, you found a way to fix it.

Even if you had to learn how to be real yourself first.

CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE

Hannah

"Sophie, I really should be packing," Hannah said as her friend practically dragged her down the hallway. "I have so much to sort through before—"

"It's your birthday lunch," Sophie insisted. "You can pack later."

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