Page 100 of Click of Fate

And somehow, I don’t feel like I’m passing through anymore.

I belong.

The door to my office bursts open without warning.

“Please tell me you’re not quitting,” Ruth says, hand to her heart like she’s genuinely preparing for heartbreak.

All conversation stops.

Hazel pauses mid-bite of her lemon bar. Cassie’s eyes go wide. Layla mutters, “Here we go.”

I blink. “What?”

“You’ve got that I'm about to drop a bombshell and chase adventure look.” Ruth narrows her eyes. “Are you? Dropping a bombshell?”

“I’m going on assignment,” I clarify, slowly. “Not disappearing.”

Ruth raises a suspicious brow. “Where?”

“Upstate,” I say, lips curving. “A luxury mountain lodge. Modern Exposure tapped me for a feature on boutique resorts that offer interesting activities. Zip lines and rock climbing, foggy mornings, panoramic views, the whole deal.”

Ruth lets out a relieved breath.

“And,” I add, “Luke’s coming with me.”

Cassie gasps like it’s her own honeymoon. Hazel beams. Layla fist pumps.

Ruth clasps her hands together like she’s officiating a ceremony. “Thank God. You scared me.”

“Me?” I laugh. “You stormed in here like a reality TV twist.”

“I am the twist,” she says, smoothing her blazer like she just earned a standing ovation. “Just remember who brought you two lovebirds back together.”

“I remember,” I say softly.

She winks. “Then pack something warm and something spicy. Love always looks good in silk, even in the mountains.”

And just like that, Ruth turns on her heel and sweeps back out, calling over her shoulder, “Don’t forget to label your snacks in the communal fridge!”

The key slides into the lock like it’s been mine forever.

Technically, Luke gave it to me last week. Along with a toothbrush that somehow already has its own spot in the cup beside his. A drawer that turned into half the closet. A joke about how I bought a house and then basically moved in with him.

He wasn’t wrong.

I step inside and toe off my boots, leaving them next to his beat-up sneakers by the door. The apartment smells like him—cedar and clean laundry and whatever expensive aftershave Alex must have bullied him into buying.

I’m starving, so I set my bag on the counter and pull up the Thai place we like. I order enough for both of us, because even though he’s not home yet, I know he will be soon.

And I like taking care of him.

The TV is on, playing reruns ofThe Officebecause I like the background noise. I curl up on his couch with my laptop, the soft glow of the screen casting light on the framed photo he snuck into the bookshelf—a candid of me and Lilly on her birthday last month, frosting on both our cheeks, both of us laughing like we had no idea someone was watching.

Ten minutes later, the lock clicks.

Luke steps in, hair wind-tousled, eyes lighting up when he sees me already there. “You beat me.”

“Only by a little,” I say, standing. “Dinner’s on the way.”

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