Page 26 of Rescued In The Storm

"If?" My mother's voice is gentle but pointed. "Connor, I saw her face when she left The Coffee Loft tonight. I think we're already in 'when' territory."

Guilt twists in my stomach. "You were there?"

"Having tea with Mrs. Henderson by the window. You were too busy staring at Sarah to notice anyone else." She sets her mug down. "That girl has been in love with you for years, you know."

"No, she hasn't," I say automatically, though the words ring hollow even to my own ears. The photograph. The way she always remembered how I took my coffee. The look in her eyes right before I kissed her.

"Connor." Just my name, but the way she says it—quiet, expectant—makes me stop pacing.

"What if I can't be what she needs?" The question slips out before I can stop it, raw and honest in a way I rarely allow myself to be. "What if I let her down?"

Lauren, who has been silent during this exchange, finally speaks up. "For what it's worth," she says quietly, "not trying at all hurts far more than trying and failing." Her eyes meet mine briefly before shifting to Evie, then back to her coffee. "At least with the latter, you know you did everything you could."

The weight behind her words isn't lost on me. Whatever happened between her and Liam clearly left its mark.

"That's what this is really about, isn't it?" My mother's eyes soften. "You're not afraid of feeling something for Sarah. You're afraid of feeling something real. Something that matters enough to hurt if it goes wrong."

I sink back onto my stool, the fight going out of me. "It would hurt her more if I tried and failed."

"And what about if you don't try at all? How's that working out?" She gestures in the general direction of town. "Did she look unhurt to you tonight?"

The memory of Sarah's face—the careful mask of indifference that couldn't quite hide the pain beneath—makes me wince.

Lauren quietly stands, gathering her purse. "I should go. Thank you for the coffee, Evie."

My mother nods in acknowledgment, but her focus remains on me. "You've spent your whole life being the dependable one," she continues once Lauren has slipped out. "The one who puts everyone else first. The one who fixes things. But some things you can't fix by thinking or planning or analyzing. Some things you just have to feel."

"What if feeling isn't enough?"

"What if it's everything?" She reaches across the counter to place her hand over mine. "You're afraid of feeling something real," she repeats. "But it's too late for that, isn't it?"

I clench my jaw, unable to deny the truth of her words. It is too late. Too late to pretend I don't care about Sarah Miller. Too late to go back to the way things were before the storm, before the cabin, before I saw that photograph and realized how she's always seen me.

Too late to protect either of us from the risk of something real.

"I messed up," I admit finally.

"Yes, you did." My mother's bluntness is oddly comforting. No platitudes, no sugarcoating. Just truth. "The question is, what are you going to do about it?"

"I tried talking to her tonight. She wouldn't listen."

"Can you blame her? You disappeared for two days after kissing her, Connor. If a man did that to me, I'd make him grovel before I gave him the time of day."

Despite everything, a small laugh escapes me. "Are you suggesting I grovel?"

"I'm suggesting you figure out what you want and then fight for it." She squeezes my hand once before letting go. "If Sarah Miller matters to you—really matters—then you need to show her. Not with words. With actions."

She slides off her stool, taking her mug to the sink. "And maybe start by not disappearing when things get real."

I watch her rinse her cup, her movements efficient and sure as they've always been. My mother, who raised four boys after my father died, who kept the lodge running, who never once let any of us see her break even when I know she must have.

"Mom," I say as she heads for the door. "How did you know? With Dad. That it was real."

She pauses, a soft smile touching her lips. "When I realized I was more afraid of not being with him than I was of all the ways it could go wrong." She gives me a knowing look. "Get some sleep, Connor. You look terrible. And Sarah deserves you at your best when you go to win her back."

After she leaves, I sit in the quiet kitchen, her words settling into my bones like truth. I've spent two days hiding out, overthinking a kiss that felt more right than anything has in years, analyzing feelings instead of just letting myself have them.

And in the process, I've hurt the one person I wanted most to protect.

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