Page 46 of Dreams and Desires

“Sorry doesn’t cut it!” she snaps, her voice hard with disgust. “You didn’t care enough to find out what she went through, did you? You just barged in, dragging her into your mess without a second thought. And now, what? You’re here, acting like a good guy? Where were you when she was being torn apart by this town?”

Her words cut deep, leaving me reeling from my own ignorance. “I didn’t know,” I murmur, almost inaudible.

“Of course you didn’t,” Dominique spits. “You didn’t bother to know. This town didn’t just gossip about her—they crucified her!”

“I swear, I’ll make it right,” I declare, the desperation clear in my voice. “I just need to find her, to explain, to tell her—“

“To tell her what?” Dominique interrupts, her eyes narrowing. “That you suddenly care? That you’ve realized how incredible she is? Where was this epiphany when she needed someone to stand by her? Where were you when she was being ripped to shreds?”

“I’m here now,” I say, almost pleading. “I know I’ve made mistakes, but I’ll do whatever it takes to fix them. Juniper means everything to me. She’s strong, kind, and resilient—she’s been through hell, and she’s still standing. I admire her more than anyone I’ve ever met. I just... I need her to know that.”

Dominique’s anger doesn’t fade, but there’s a flicker of something else in her eyes—something like pity. She sighs, the tension in her shoulders easing just a fraction. “You really care about her, don’t you?”

“With everything I have,” I confess. “But I need to find her, Dominique. Please. I need to tell her that I see her, that I understand now. I’m not the man who hurt her, not anymore.”

Dominique studies me for a long moment. As she stands up to leave, she hesitates, turning back to me. There’s a look on her face, like she knows something I don’t. “You know where Juniper is, don’t you?” I ask, looking straight into her eyes.

Dominique meets my eyes, and there’s something in her gaze that makes my heart skip a beat. She doesn’t say anything, just gives me a sad smile, and I know she’s got the answers I need.

Chapter Twenty-Two

Juniper

I plop onto the cabin’s beat-up porch swing, and the rusty chains groan with every slow push—pretty much how I feel inside. The chunky sweater I’m hiding in does a lousy job against the late October bite. Wind slips through the pines, flicking the last crumbs of snow around like winter’s finally packing up.

This cabin, hidden deep in the woods, belongs to Dominique’s parents. Only she and Jacob know about it. When she handed me the keys, it felt like an escape plan—far from Cody, far from everything that’s gone wrong.

A romance novel lies in my lap, but the words blur together. Every sweet scene, every tender moment, drags me back to Zade—his touch, his smile, and all the lies.

I lose it. The book’s out of my hand before I even realize what I’m doing. It sails acrossthe porch, flipping open mid-air. But it never hits the ground.

A hand catches it.

I freeze. My stomach flips. I look up fast. My breath feels weird in my chest, like it doesn’t know where to go.

“Zade,” I whisper, his name bitter on my tongue.

He stands just a few feet from the porch, his tall figure blending with the shadows of the trees. He's got that worn-out look, standing like he's barely keeping it together. "Juniper," he rasps.

“Why are you here?” I demand.

He steps onto the porch, the old boards creaking under his weight. “I had to see you. I heard what happened. I never wanted you caught up in all this.”

“I don’t care what you wanted,” I snap, standing up from the swing so quickly it nearly tips over. I bolt inside the cabin, my heart racing. I want to slam the door shut, but he’s already there, standing in the doorway, blocking it.

His presence looms at the entrance, and I take a step back, trying to put some distance between us, but the cabin feels too small. Too confining. His eyes, heavy with regret, lock onto mine, and I can’t look away.

“Your intentions mean nothing. You lied to me. You used me.” I hiss.

He recoils at the words, a flash of pain crossing his face, but he doesn’t back down. “You have every right to be angry, but please, just listen to me. I didn’t mean for things to get this bad.”

“Didn’t mean?” I laugh, a harsh, bitter sound. “You never mean for anything, do you? It just happens, and then you show up with those sad eyes, expecting everything to be okay.”

“Juniper, I know I messed up. But I’m not here to ask for your forgiveness. I’m here to fix what I broke.”

I narrow my eyes, crossing my arms over my chest. “And how exactly do you plan to do that? You think you can just come back into my life, say a few pretty words, and I’ll forget everything?”

He steps closer, softening a bit. "I don't want you to forget. I want you to get that I'm not going anywhere. I'm done lying."

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