Page 48 of Restored By the Mountain Man
"I'll explain when you get there. Can you just... can you check if the cabin is empty? I can't face them right now if they're still there."
"Already texting Grayson to find out. Head back, babe. I'm coming. I’ll meet you there."
Twenty minutes later, I pull into the cabin's driveway at the same time Laurel's car comes around the bend. She's out of her vehicle before I even turn off the engine, and I fall into her arms the moment my feet hit the gravel.
"They're gone," she says immediately, rubbing my back as I sob into her shoulder. "Grayson confirmed they left town this afternoon. It's just us, babe."
I let her guide me into the cabin, noting the absence of Tom's parents' belongings with relief. Whatever else has gone wrong today, at least I don't have to deal with that particular drama.
Laurel settles me on the couch and disappears into the kitchen, returning with a pint of chocolate chip cookie dough ice cream, two spoons, and a box from Sweet Pines Bakery.
"Emergency supplies," she announces, sitting beside me and opening the ice cream. "I may have made a pit stop on my way here. Now tell me what that asshole did to make you cry like this."
Between bites of ice cream and tears, I tell her everything. The perfect night we shared, the way he made me feel cherished and desired. The confrontation with Tom's parents and how Ezra stood by me. The sweet gesture of buying me cronuts and the vulnerable conversation about children and our future.
"It sounds like everything was going perfectly," Laurel says, her brow furrowed in confusion. "What changed?"
I take a shaky breath and explain about the craft room, about finding Elizabeth's sketchbooks, and the explosion that followed.
"He told me to get out," I finish miserably. "It wasn’t just the words but the way he said it... it felt like he meant everything. Like I was nothing to him."
Laurel is quiet for a long moment, processing what I've told her. Then she sets down her spoon and turns to face me fully.
"Zoe Esmeralda Diaz," she says, using my full name like she did when we were kids and she was about to lecture me. "You are not stupid for opening your heart to that man."
"But I should have known better than to go into that room. I should have respected?—"
"Stop." She holds up a hand. "Yes, maybe you should have asked before exploring. But you weren't being malicious or disrespectful. You were being curious in what you thought wasyour boyfriend's house. A house where you'd spent the night, where he'd made you feel welcome and wanted."
She reaches for my hands. "Ezra is the dick here. He's the one who let his grief turn him into a monster. He's the one who hurt the woman he supposedly cares about instead of talking through his feelings like an adult."
"Laurel—"
"No, I'm not done." Her eyes flash with protective fury. "You opened your heart to him. You shared your body with him, your fears, your dreams. You stood up to Tom's parents for him, for your future together. And how does he repay you? By screaming at you like you're some kind of intruder."
She stands up and starts pacing, her anger building. "I'm going to make his life hell. I'm going to make sure every batch of whiskey he makes for the next year tastes like piss."
"Don't," I say quietly. "Please don't make this about revenge."
She stops pacing and looks at me with surprise. "Zoe, he hurt you. He made you cry. I'm supposed to hate him on principle."
"But you won't," I say, understanding flooding through me. "Because despite everything, despite how much he hurt me, I still love him."
Laurel’s expression softens.
"Oh, honey," Laurel whispers, sitting back down and pulling me into a hug. "You really love him."
"I do," I sob into her shoulder. "I love him so much it hurts. And I understand why he reacted the way he did. Finding me in Elizabeth's space, surrounded by her things... it must have felt like a betrayal of her memory."
"Understanding his reaction doesn't excuse how he treated you," Laurel says firmly. "Love doesn't mean accepting abuse, even if it comes from a place of pain."
"I know. And I won't. But I also can't just turn off my feelings because he had one terrible moment."
Laurel pulls back to look at me. "So what do you want to do?"
"I don't know," I admit. "Part of me wants to drive back there and demand he talk to me like a rational adult. Part of me wants to pack my things and go back to Portland. And part of me just wants to hide here and eat ice cream until the pain goes away."
"Option three sounds pretty appealing right now," Laurel says, offering me another spoonful of ice cream. "But it's not really a long-term solution."
