Page 36 of Knot Your Sugar Rush
“Thanks,” she says, voice quieter. “Everyone told me to keep it professional, to think about the optics, not make a scene. I threw the ring at him. Quit on the spot.”
“Good. He didn’t deserve anything else.”
She goes quiet again, sipping her coffee, but her eyes are distant.
I lean back, trying to calm the storm rising in my chest. This is exactly what I didn’t want. Feelings. Complications. Cam isn’t part of the plan. None of this is.
“You ever think about leaving?” she asks suddenly.
I glance at her, startled.
“All the time,” I admit. “Sometimes I think it’s the only way to keep growing. But lately... I’m not so sure.”
She nods, thoughtful. “Maybe it’s not about running away, but figuring out what you’re running toward.”
Her words land heavier than she probably means them to. I look at her, really look at her—bare feet tucked under her, mug cradled close, hair a little messy from sleep. She's not just some omega tenant. She's something else. Something grounding.
And that’s dangerous.
I clear my throat. “You should get back to the others. They’ll start to worry if we’re gone too long.”
She watches me a moment longer, then nods and rises, heading back down the hall.
I stay in the chair a bit longer, staring at the opposite wall, trying to remind myself that the right time to leave is before the roots get too deep.
Maybe it’s already too late.
Chapter twenty-two
Cam
The sterile scent of antiseptic clings to everything. Hospitals are meant to feel clean and comforting, I think, but to me, they always feel like holding my breath underwater—waiting, bracing, unable to exhale until something, anything, breaks the stillness.
But when I step back into Gram’s room, I can finally breathe.
She’s propped up in bed, pale but upright, with some of the usual color blooming back into her cheeks. Her silver hair is a little flattened from the pillow, but her eyes sparkle with mischief and stubbornness. That’s my Gram.
The guys are already there, beating me to it since I had to swing by the washroom. That coffee was entirely too delicious.
Jamie sits on the windowsill, sunlight slanting across his hair, making it look even more gold than usual as he fiddles with a sugar packet. Dane’s at his most broody, arms crossed, looming near the far wall like he’s guarding a treasure. And Theo—Theo is right beside Gram’s bed, casually discussing her chart with a gentle focus that somehow doesn’t surprise me.
Gram sees me and immediately lights up. “There she is! My sweet Camellia. Sit down before I get out of this bed and make you worry.”
I laugh, some of the tension slipping off my shoulders as I take the chair at her side. “You’re supposed to be resting, not issuing orders.”
She waves me off like a gnat. “You expect me to just lie here while the shop opens in a week? Not a chance.”
I study her carefully—her color is better, but her hands tremble just a little when she adjusts her blanket. My heart tugs. “You really scared me, Gram.”
She covers my hand with hers and squeezes. “I know, sweetheart. But I’m alright. Just need to adjust some meds, and then I’ll be back home, bossing you around where I belong.”
“Yes, you can and you will,” I say, echoing her earlier tone.
Her expression softens, and for a moment, her fingers brush my knuckles like she’s memorizing the shape of my hand. “I’m proud of you, you know. One week from now, I expect to hear all about ribbon-cuttings and lines out the door. This is your dream, Cam. Yours and Zae’s. Don’t let me being here slow you down.”
“But what if something happens while I’m—”
“Then I’ll call you, and you’ll come running. But that’s not going to happen. I’ll be home before you burn your first batch of toffee.”
