"I love you too," I whisper, the weight of it grounding and lifting me at the same time.
We drift toward sleep wrapped in a feeling deeper than comfort. Tomorrow will come with festival chaos, media fallout, Mrs. Patterson's appointment, and Richard's shadowstill looming. But tonight, this is all that exists, redemption, forgiveness, and a love that doesn't erase the past but dares to build a future anyway.
Out of the corner of my eye, I swear the bear gives a subtle nod of approval.
The soundof aggressive knocking on the barn door jolts me awake. I'm disoriented, sunlight is streaming through the windows, Maddy is warm and naked in my arms, and someone is pounding on the door downstairs like they're trying to break it down.
"Maddy!" a voice calls out, carrying through the old building. "I know you're in there! Your car's outside and you didn't come home last night!"
Maddy stirs against me, mumbling something incoherent into my chest. Then her mother's voice penetrates her sleepy haze, and her eyes snap open. "That would be my mother," she says, suddenly wide awake and looking horrified.
"Oh god, she's going to murder me. And then you. And then resurrect us both to lecture us about responsible adult behavior."
The knocking continues, joined by the escalating voice of a concerned parent on the edge of panic.
"Madeline Rose, you open this door right now!"
We hear the heavy barn doors creak open, followed by footsteps and Gloria's voice calling out, "Maddy? Sweetheart? Are you up there? I brought coffee and my maternal anxiety!"
Maddy looks at me, then at the state of the loft, our clothes scattered everywhere, the bear rug disheveled, the unmistakable evidence of what we've been doing written all over the space.
"Well," she says with a hysterical laugh, "I guess we're about to find out how my mother feels about me having a wild, passionate affair with a lawyer."
And despite everything, the impending maternal interrogation, the scattered clothes, the judgmental bear, I can't stop grinning. Because last night was perfect, and Maddy loves me, and even Gloria, armed with spare keys and coffee, can't change that.
I reach for her hand, help her to her feet, and steal one more kiss before we brace ourselves.
"Let's go face the music," I say.
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
MADDY
Oh no.
I scramble for my jeans, which had strategically hidden themselves under the bear's left ear. Mom was in.
Mason, maddeningly calm, grins, buttoning his shirt with infuriating ease. "How did you plan to explain spending the night here?"
"I didn't plan to spend the night!" I huff, yanking my sweater over my head. "I planned to … I don't know… not look like I'm having a wild, passionate affair with my … whatever you are!"
"Wild, passionate affair?" His grin widens. "Should I be offended or flattered?"
"NOT THE TIME, MASON!"
He chuckles, grabbing his jacket. "Fantastic. Can't wait to meet your mom."
As I wrestle one leg into my jeans, my mother's footsteps, surprisingly swift for a woman carrying coffee and a full panic, are at the top of the wooden stairs. She bursts into the loft, thermos still clutched precariously in one hand, a look of pure, unadulterated maternal fury on her face. Her eyes, typicallywarm and kind, are narrowed into suspicious slits, sweeping over the disheveled bear rug, the discarded clothes, and then landing on Mason, half-buttoned shirt, hair askew, a tell-tale flush still on his cheeks.
Her jaw drops so far, I'm pretty sure I can see her molars. The thermos slips from her hand, hits the floor with a solid thud, and the lid pops off. Coffee spills in a wide arc across the barn wood, a caffeine-fueled mess spreading fast.
"Madeline Rose! What in the name of all that is organic and locally-sourced is going on up here?!" my mother shrieks, her voice reaching a pitch that makes the old barn rafters tremble.
"Mom! It's not what it looks like!" I yelp, tugging my sweater down even further, practically disappearing into the wool. My face is on fire.
"Not what it looks like?" My mother's gaze, though initially stern, does a complete one-eighty as she takes in the full scene. Mason's rumpled shirt. My inside-out sweater. The bear rug that looks like it has been through a particularly enthusiastic wrestling match. Her expression shifts from outrage to a far more terrifying emotion, delight.
A slow, knowing smile spreads across her face, one that makes my blood run cold in a different way. "Oh. OH. Oh my." She clasps her hands together like she's witnessed a miracle. "Madeline, are you telling me this isn't my daughter, half-dressed, with a ... a lawyer in her loft, surrounded by the clear aftermath of ... of passion?"
