Page 97 of A Hard Habit to Break

Noah smiled, and it reached all the way down to his bones. “Amazing. Brilliant. Courageous. Don’t dare use my fool’s mistake as a reason to stay away again.”

“We’ll see,” was all she said.

As they walked toward the elevator together, Noah felt the complexity of his situation settle like weighted turnout gear over him. To win her heart would require something more than words, more than good intentions. He’d have to show her, in ways that mattered, that he was a man of substance, loyalty, and compassion for her. The man she’d fallen in love with, but better. Stronger. Someone who wouldn’t let her down again for selfish gain or ambition.

The elevator doors closed behind them, and Noah caught his reflection in the polished steel. For the first time in longer than he could remember, he saw the man he was, but more importantly, the man he was determined to become to be worthy of Rachel’s love.

CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO

Gillian: When you return, let’s

talk about your future with the

company.

And the fallout continued.

Rachel cast a lingering glance at the small gathering in the hospital room—Bethany’s chest rising and falling in the soft rhythm of sleep; her father’s gentle snoring filling the air with a warm, steady hum; and Amarie curled on the chair, her face soft in dreamlike bliss. The quiet was thick, almost reverent, the faint scent of antiseptic and fresh coffee mingling in the cooled air. Rachel’s heart flipped, but she exhaled long and slow, the weight of new revelations heavy in her chest. With a soft sigh, she gathered her boots, the leather cool to her fingertips, and silently laced them up. Her movements were careful, as if theair itself might shatter the pebble of hope she held tight in her grasp.

The light outside bled through the curtains in golden slivers, creeping across the floor in delicate beams that brushed against the edges of furniture and quiet faces. The noisy hum of the hospital’s morning life greeted her—beeps, buzzes, and bodies in motion polluted the hall—but inside this room, her family slept in peace. She rose to her feet, aware of how her echoing footsteps might disrupt a patient in need of healing sleep.

Eager to escape the institutional scent of cleaning fluids, she reached the elevators. Waiting, she bounced on her heels, head down, counting. The metallic door slid open with a soft ping. Rachel, seconds from cocooning herself inside, stopped when a voice called out, cutting through the stillness. “You headed home?” The nurse from the day before stood at the far end of the hallway, her silhouette a stark contrast to the pale morning light.

Rachel startled, her heart skipping a beat before she quickly calmed her thrumming pulse. “Yes.” She nodded. “It’s been a long three days. I have a stop to make before my mom is discharged later today.”

She didn’t realize how relieved she was until she actually spoke the words. The past two days, watching her father hover anxiously around Bethany’s hospital bed, seeing Amarie struggle between her medical training and a daughter’s fear, Rachel experienced the intangible power of kinship and connection all over again. She’d witnessed the community rally around them with meals and offers of help with the farm animals, the same way they’d rallied around her father after her mother’s death. Bethany would be fine with diet changes and medication. However, for Rachel, a rebuild was in order.

“Be safe on the road back to Service, honey. The mountain is a bear to climb with the slick roads.” Rachel felt those wordsapplied to more than the drive home. Her heart felt lighter but not carefree, torn between the relief of Bethany’s stable condition and the ache of renewed heartbreak. Noah’s words echoed in her mind. “I love you, Rachel. I’ve always loved only you. Don’t use my fool’s mistake as a reason to stay away again.”

The last seventy-two hours had shifted her priorities in an unexpected direction. Now that the threat of losing someone else she cared about had unknotted the nausea knotting her belly, she wanted her dad. Conscious of the retreat to the familiar, Rachel didn’t look back. Bethany needed him more. Who could she run to, to soothe this stress-fear-anger whiplash? Noah’s face came to her first. Her heart and body still craved his touch, his warmth. She’d forgiven him for trusting Pete. But it irritated her that he hadn’t trusted her with the full truth. Three days of ignored calls and text messages, yet Noah Calvary persisted with one of each, every day. He’d launched a one-man campaign on behalf of their proposal. He aimed to keep his promise to Service… and her. Judging by the quality of the IG reels of local support flooding her feed, Benji had his manicured fingers in the mix. It was kind of romantic.No… no, stop, forgiving is not forgetting.

She needed to talk to someone who’d listen without judgment or adding advice. Back at the farm, Benji was probably pacing the kitchen with nervous energy, wanting desperately to come to her but understanding her need to support her immediate family. He’d been her shadow since the town hall meeting, hovering with protective concern that was both touching and suffocating. But this conversation could only happen in solitude.

On the drive to the cemetery, Rachel’s emotions inched closer to somber as the gray stone replicas became a bittersweet blur. Five years had passed since her last visit to her mother’s gravesite. The realization brought a fresh wave of regretand guilt. Tears swelled, and she blinked back the onslaught. Inhaling the crisp morning air, she exhaled trepidation as she approached the well-tended plot.

“Hi, Mom,” she whispered, kneeling beside the headstone. “It’s been a minute. A few… actually.”

Rachel traced trembling fingers over the engraved letters of her mother’s name. A feeling of instant connection assailed her. “I’m sorry.”

Somewhere in her mind, she heard a voice say,You’re here now. For all the places in her life where she held fear, there was none here. Words began to spill out. The torrent of emotions uncorked, upended—splattering across stone, and earth, and air after too long in silence.

“I know the last IRL talk, it was about Noah Calvary. And”—she sighed—“it’s that darn Noah again, Mom.” Rachel picked at the grass beside her mother’s grave, her fingers working nervous energy while her mind wrestled with recent events. “He stood up for me. Really stood up for me in a way he never did before. He chose me over winning. He looked Pete in the eye and called him out for what he really is. He said he loves me.”

She imagined her mom gripping her by the shoulders and screaming,How could he not love you?

“I know, Mom. After all these years, he still has the power to make my heart race and break it all at once. I thought I was over him, but… I don’t know. Maybe I’ve been running away all this time because I’m scared I’m not enough. That I’ll never be enough.”

She paused, plucking a nearby dandelion and twirling it between her fingers. “Or maybe we’re both just too scared to fail each other. He’s afraid to leave this town, and I’m terrified to stay. We’re at an impasse, and I don’t know how to bridge that gap. Or… if I should.”

A fragrant breeze carrying notes of mountain laurel, pine, and earth rustled spring leaves on a nearby oak. Rachel closed her eyes, inhaling glimpses of memories erased by time. The air seemed to wrap around her, tender, fleeting, like the moments between a parent and child. She imagined it was her mother’s comforting touch. She could almost feel her warm hands on her cheek, the tender pressure cupping her face. Rachel swallowed a clump of emotion, the longing so sharp she ached from the loss. A rustling, gentle and soothing sound like a mother’s lullaby floated in the air.

“You probably already saw this or heard it through the Service gossip line, but Dad’s getting married this week. You’d like Bethany, Mom. She’s kind and strong, and she makes Dad smile again. I think… I think you sent her to us. She’s kept your garden alive and even expanded the kitchen like you always wanted to. It feels like a part of you is still there, guiding us.”

Rachel’s voice softened, vulnerable and hopeful. “Mom, if you can hear me, I could really use a sign. I was sure about my choices, but now… can you show me something… about Noah, about my future… anything would help. I need your guidance more than ever. I know Noah’s the right one. But why do we keep doing all the wrong things to each other?”

As if in response, a ray of sunlight broke through the clouds, heating Rachel’s face. Her eyes stung as they began to water. “We miss you, Mom,” she choked out. “I wish we’d had more time.” She smiled as tears flowed down her cheeks.

The sound of footsteps on the gravel made Rachel turn. Her breath caught in her throat as she saw Noah approaching, his expression a mix of quiet respect and determination.