Page 61 of Faking it with my Bad Boy Crush

But I wasn't stuck. I was choosing. Every day, I was choosing this life, this community, this legacy. And now I was choosing Ethan—complicated, self-sacrificing, integrity-driven Ethan who'd destroyed his career to protect what I'd built.

I typed: "Mom—I won the Sweetheart Week vendor contract. Signature culinary position. They chose Honey & Hearth because of my credentials and seven years of growth. Just wanted you to know."

Her response came surprisingly fast: "That's wonderful, querida. I'm proud of you. Your father would be so proud. Call me soon? I'd like to hear about everything."

I stared at that message for a long moment. Maybe my mother was finally starting to understand. Maybe she was beginning to see my choice to come home as success rather than sacrifice.

Or maybe I just needed to stop seeking her approval and trust my own definition of success.

My phone buzzed with a news alert: "Independent Survey Results in Lopez Island Fraud Case to Be Released Monday 9 AM."

Tomorrow morning. Twenty-four hours from now, we'd know for certain whether the fraud was provable, whether Ethan's sacrifice had been necessary, whether everything we'd fought for was built on solid ground.

I pulled up his contact, typing out a message: "Survey results tomorrow at 9. Want to wait for them together?"

His response was immediate: "Your place or mine?"

"Mine. I'll make coffee. We'll face it together."

"Together. I'm starting to really like that word."

"Me too," I typed back. Then added: "I love you. Whatever tomorrow brings, that doesn't change."

"It doesn't change for me either. See you at 8:30?"

"Perfect."

I set down my phone and looked around my cottage—the home I'd bought five years ago, the space I'd made my own, the life I'd built brick by brick through choice and sacrifice and relentless determination.

Tomorrow, we'd find out if Ethan's sacrifice had been worth it. If the independent survey confirmed what we'd proven in that courtroom. If the fraud was undeniable and the victory complete.

But regardless of what tomorrow brought, I'd already won something more important: the courage to fight for what mattered, the strength to stand up for my principles, and the love of someone who valued integrity more than career.

That was worth more than any vendor contract or any survey result.

That was worth everything.

Chapter nineteen

Reckoning

Ethan

Monday morning, I arrived at Maya's cottage at 8:25 AM—five minutes early because I was too anxious to wait any longer. The independent survey results would be released at 9 AM, and the next hour would determine whether everything I'd sacrificed had been worth it.

Maya opened the door before I could knock. She was wearing jeans and a soft gray sweater, her dark hair loose around her shoulders. She looked tired—probably hadn't slept any better than I had.

"Coffee's ready," she said, pulling me inside. "I made it extra strong. Figured we'd need it."

Her cottage was warm and welcoming in a way my sterile hotel room wasn't—bookshelves full of cookbooks and novels, framed photos of her grandfather and family, the lingering scent of bread from yesterday's baking. This was what a home looked like when someone actually lived in it instead of just sleeping there between work obligations.

"Any word yet?" I asked, though I knew it was too early.

"Nothing. The county clerk's office opens at 9. Results will be posted publicly on their website and sent directly to all parties involved." Maya handed me coffee in a mug that said "Life is what you bake it"—probably a gift from Tessa. "Richard called earlier. Said he'd call us the moment he sees the results."

We sat on her couch, coffee in hand, waiting. My laptop was open on the coffee table, refreshing the county clerk's website every thirty seconds even though I knew nothing would appear until exactly 9 AM.

"How are you feeling?" Maya asked quietly.