Page 93 of Resisting You
Noah
The backyard was already half set up for a wedding that might not happen.
In fact, chances were, the wedding wasn’t going to happen. I was just in denial.
Streamers fluttered in the warm breeze, catching the wind like they didn’t know any better. Folding chairs stood in neat, hopeful rows facing the empty space beneath the old oak tree—where a white wooden arch leaned awkwardly to one side, half-assembled, half-abandoned. Like it was waiting for someone to decide if it deserved to be staked into the grass or hauled back into the garage.
And I stood in the middle of it all, feeling like an idiot.
My shirt clung to my back with sweat. My hands were stained with dirt and sap from dragging tables across the grass. And every five minutes, I looked toward the front gate like Rosa might come walking through it.
It had been 12 hours since I’d heard anything. No calls. No texts. Just silence. Which was somehow louder than anything else.
She could’ve left town. I wouldn’t blame her if she had. Hell, I half-expected it. That blind item had hit harder than I thought it would, dragging her into the brutal, messy industry I lived every minute of every day in with its claws and teeth. It was exactly what she didn’t want. Exactly what she had been avoiding ever since she left home at eighteen and never wanted that limelight again. Her name hadn’t even been in it, and still, the gossip sites were circling like vultures. That kind of storm didn’t just blow over. And I could understand how it didn’t feel survivable for someone like Rosa, who built her entire adult life on privacy, reputation, and control.
But I knew we could survive this. Together. I could help her through it. Be her life preserver in the storm. If only she’d let me.
How could I convince her to let me?
The lump lodged deeper in my throat. Because the damn truth was, I brought her into this mess. I brought Morgan into her life. I wouldn’t blame her if she left and didn’t give me the chance.
But I still kept looking at the damn gate.
Just in case.
Birdie sprawled on his back in a patch of shade beside me, blissfully unaware that his humans might not make it to “happily ever after.” He’d found a pinecone and was mauling it like it had personally insulted him.
I dropped to one knee beside the folding table and tightened a bolt that didn’t really need tightening. Just something to keep my hands busy. Keep the hope from creeping too far in.
The annulment papers were still in my back pocket. Creased. Sweaty. And unsigned.
I should’ve signed them already. It would’ve made things easier for everyone.
But I didn’t want easy.
I wanted Rosa.
And if there was any shot in hell at getting her back, I was willing to take it. I just… didn’t know what that shot was.
A grand gesture?
I’d thought about it. I’d run through every stupid rom-com move I could think of since the sun came up. A love letter? A flash mob? Showing up with ten more rescue dogs like Birdie and a boombox over my shoulder?
Too cheesy. Too loud. Toonot us.
What did Rosa need? What would make her believe I was worth staying for?
The truth, maybe.
And something that proved I saw her—not the version of her the media painted, not the fantasy.Her.The anxious, brilliant, whip-smart woman who thought loving someone famous would burn her to the ground.
Hell, it almost did.
But I needed to remind her she could survive the fire.
The slam of a folding chair snapped me out of my thoughts.
Cam lifted a hay bale from next to the fire pit with a grunt and straightened, walking it over to the aisle as he looked at me like I was a ticking time bomb.
