I shook my head, the sting of betrayal still sharp. “But you should have told me, Lennox. You should have given me the truth and let me choose.”
“I know,” he said, his voice hoarse. “I should have. But I was so damn scared. I was losing myself in you, and I loved it. I loved you. And I couldn’t find a way to say it without risking everything. I thought I could fix it before you found out, make it right and then tell you. But that was wrong. It was cowardly.”
He dropped his hands, his shoulders sagging as if he’d been holding up the world and finally let it go. “I know I don’t deserve it, but if there’s any part of you that still feels what I feel—if there’s even a sliver of hope—you can have all of me. No more secrets. No more hiding. Just us, starting over. I’ll prove it to you every day if you let me.”
Tears burned my eyes, my defenses crumbling under the weight of his honesty. His words filled my heart, pressingagainst my chest, making it hard to breathe. I wanted to hold onto my hurt, my anger, but beneath it all was the truth—this man, standing before me with his heart in his hands, was the same man who had made me feel cherished, seen, loved.
“Lennox…” I whispered, my voice fragile.
He stepped closer, his hands trembling as he reached for mine. “Please, Naima. I’m not perfect. I’m not even close. But I’m yours if you’ll have me. I’ll spend my life making this right.”
And in that moment, surrounded by the echo of old wounds and the hope of new beginnings, I felt it—the pull of love, undeniable and relentless. It was messy, imperfect, butreal. And maybe, just maybe, that was enough.
I took a shaky breath, feeling the anger, the confusion, start to melt away. He was here, and despite everything, my heart knew that I still loved him. “I don’t know if I’m ready to forgive you,” I whispered, my voice wavering. “But…I’ve missed you, too.”
The tension between us snapped, and before I knew it, he’d pulled me into his arms, his lips finding mine in a kiss that felt like coming home. His mouth was hot, demanding, swallowing the remnants of my resistance. Every part of me responded to him, my hands threading through his hair as I pressed closer, the familiar warmth of his body steadying me, filling the hollow ache I’d been carrying for days.
We broke apart, both of us breathing hard, and I glanced around, feeling a sudden urge for privacy. I took his hand, pulling him across the yard to my father’s shed, slipping inside and closing the door behind us. The space was cluttered with tools, the scent of wood and metal filling the air, but it was private, quiet, just for us.
He backed me against the worktable, his eyes hooded, heavy with a mix of desire and relief. His hands were frantic, tugging at my yoga pants, peeling them away along with my croppedtop until I stood before him bare and trembling. His hands slid down my sides, fingers pressing into my skin, setting off sparks with every touch. I tugged at his shirt, pulling it over his head, needing to feel his heat against me. His lips found my neck, rough and hungry, his stubble grazing my skin, leaving a trail of sensation that burned straight through me.
“I missed you,” he growled against my throat, his voice thick with need.
“Damn, I missed you, too.” My fingers tangled in his locs, guiding him closer, craving every inch of him. Tools clattered to the floor as he lifted me, setting me on the edge of the worktable, his hands firm on my hips. The raw scrape of wood against the backs of my thighs only heightened the heat between us.
His lips closed over my nipple, sucking hard, his teeth grazing the sensitive bud. I arched against him, my breath coming out in short, desperate pants. He shifted, sliding a hand between my legs, his fingers finding me slick and ready. He pressed inside, curling his fingers, and I bucked against him, a needy moan slipping free.
“There it is,” he murmured, his lips brushing over my collarbone. “That sweet sound. Give me more.”
When he pushed into me, it was a hard, desperate slide that knocked the air from my lungs. His rhythm was slow at first, almost agonizing, each thrust a deliberate push and pull, a reminder of what we’d lost and what we were finding again. I wrapped my legs around him, drawing him deeper, and he met my pace, our bodies falling into the rhythm we’d always had.
The world outside faded. There was only the sharp scent of wood and metal, the creak of the worktable under our weight, and the slick, heady slide of our bodies. I felt him everywhere, filling every empty space, and when release crashed over me, I held on, letting it take me under, knowing he was right there with me.
When the rush ebbed, and the world drifted back into focus, he rested his forehead against mine, our breaths mingling, ragged and warm. His hands cradled my face, his thumbs brushing away the dampness of tears I hadn’t realized I’d shed.
“I love you, Lennox,” I whispered, the words tumbling out, raw and real.
His eyes softened, his heart open to me. “I love you, too. Always.”
21
LENNOX
The weight of the bar pressed against my palms, and I held it steady as Ms. Putney completed her final rep, her arms shaking slightly but her face determined. “Nice work, keep breathing,” I said, guiding her through the last push before she let out a triumphant sigh and dropped the weights, a wide smile on her face.
“Thank you, Lennox. I never thought I’d get this far,” she said, beaming.
I grinned, offering her a high-five as she caught her breath. “You did all the work—I just made sure you had a plan. But I’m glad you’re seeing progress.”
She laughed, giving me a grateful nod before heading off, leaving me alone in the newly renovated fitness studio.
The last few months had been a whirlwind, but seeing The Three Bears transform into the thriving wellness retreat it was now, made every long hour worth it. After we’d secured the investment, the changes had started rolling in fast.
We’d upgraded the fitness studio to include more equipment and even added a wellness lounge where guests could unwind with smoothies, protein shakes, and other health-conscioussnacks between sessions. The Massage therapist was now a full-time staff member as well. The cabins were refreshed, too, with new furnishings and decor that made each space feel like a cozy sanctuary.
Our new receptionist greeted every guest with warmth, and a young social media strategist named Ella had given our online presence a serious glow-up. One of her reels, showing me leading a group session outdoors with the mountains as our backdrop, had gone viral. The reel had hit over a million views within a week, with thousands of comments asking about the retreat, filling up our guest roster for months. We’d even had to expand the waitlist.
Months earlier, I’d gone to my father with a plan. I asked for the investment, fully prepared to argue my case, but to my surprise, he’d nodded, listening intently.
