Updated Jan 14, 2026 • ~8 min read
POV: Reid
February
Hailey’s first client meeting was happening at Candace’s inn, and she was a nervous wreck.
“What if they hate my ideas? What if—what if they realize I have no idea what I’m doing? What if this whole business is a mistake?”
“They hired you because they love your portfolio. Because they want intimate and meaningful. That’s what you do. You’ll be great.”
“You’re biased.”
“Completely. But also correct.”
She kissed me—quick, anxious—and headed to the inn. I watched her go, pride swelling in my chest.
She was doing it. Building her business. Being brave. Being—
Being extraordinary.
I went back to work—I’d started taking on architecture projects again, small ones, residential designs—and tried not to check my phone every five minutes to see how her meeting was going.
I lasted twenty minutes before texting: How’s it going?
Hailey: Good! They love everything! They want me to plan their wedding! MY FIRST OFFICIAL CLIENT!!!
Me: Told you. You’re amazing.
Hailey: Coming home to celebrate. Love you.
Home. She’d called the cabin home. Still made me unreasonably happy every time.
I was chopping vegetables for dinner—I’d gotten decent at cooking, Hailey’s influence—when my phone rang. Unknown number.
“Hello?”
“Reid? It’s Jessica Walsh. I heard you were back to doing architecture. I’d love to talk about a project.”
Jessica Walsh. As in Jessica from high school. As in the girl I’d dated junior and senior year before I left for college. As in—
“Oh. Hey, Jessica. Yeah, I’m doing some residential design. What’s the project?”
“House renovation. Complete redesign. I bought the old Miller place and it needs—everything. Could we meet? Discuss ideas?”
“Sure. When works for you?”
“Tomorrow? Lunch at the diner?”
“Yeah, that works.”
After I hung up, I realized I probably should’ve mentioned Jessica to Hailey. But it was just business. Just an old friend hiring me for a project. Nothing—
Nothing to worry about.
Right?
The diner meeting was fine. Professional. Jessica brought blueprints and ideas and—
And flirted.
Not obviously. Just—lingering looks. Touches on my arm when making a point. Laughter that lasted too long.
I was oblivious until Wade showed up for lunch and raised an eyebrow at the cozy booth and Jessica’s hand on my arm.
“Wade!” Jessica said brightly. “How are you?”
“Good. You two catching up?”
“Reid’s going to redesign my house. I’m so excited to work with him. It’ll be like old times.”
Old times. When we’d dated. When we’d—
Oh shit. I was an idiot.
“It’s just business,” I said quickly to Wade after Jessica left.
“Does Hailey know you’re having cozy lunches with your ex-girlfriend?”
“Jessica’s not my ex—we dated in high school. That’s not—it doesn’t count.”
Wade gave me a look. “Reid. Tell Hailey. Before someone else does. Pine Ridge gossip is highly efficient.”
He was right. I needed to tell her.
But when I got home, Hailey was so excited about her client, showing me ideas and samples and—
And I didn’t want to ruin her mood. I’d tell her tomorrow. After she’d calmed down from new-business high. After—
After I found the right moment.
The right moment didn’t come.
Because Candace, bless her meddling heart, mentioned it at Rose’s store the next day when Hailey was there.
“Reid and Jessica Walsh looked cozy at the diner yesterday. Didn’t know they were back in touch.”
I got Hailey’s text five minutes later: Jessica Walsh? Your high school girlfriend? You had lunch with her?
Shit.
Me: It’s not what it sounds like. She hired me for a renovation project. That’s all.
Hailey: Why didn’t you tell me?
Me: I was going to. I just—I didn’t think it was a big deal.
Hailey: You had lunch with your ex and didn’t think to mention it? That feels like a big deal to me.
Double shit.
I drove home immediately. Found her in the kitchen, aggressively organizing cabinets—her stress tell.
“Hey,” I said carefully.
“Hey.” Cold. Clipped.
“I’m sorry. I should have told you about Jessica. It was stupid not to. I just—it was business. Nothing else.”
“Did she flirt with you?”
Honesty. We’d built this on honesty.
“Maybe? I didn’t really notice. Wade pointed it out.”
“You didn’t notice your ex-girlfriend flirting with you.”
“We dated twenty years ago, Hailey. It’s not—it doesn’t mean anything.”
“Then why didn’t you tell me?”
“Because I’m an idiot who didn’t think it mattered. Because—because I was worried you’d be upset over nothing. Which, ironically, is exactly what happened.”
“I’m not upset over nothing. I’m upset that you didn’t trust me enough to tell me. That you thought—what? That I’d be unreasonable? That I’d tell you not to take the job? That I’d—”
“That you’d be hurt,” I said quietly. “I didn’t want to hurt you. So I avoided telling you. Which was stupid. I’m sorry.”
She stopped organizing. Looked at me with something like understanding and frustration mixed together.
“Reid, I don’t care if you work with your ex. I care that you didn’t tell me. That you—that you made me find out from Candace. That feels like hiding. And hiding feels like—like there’s something to hide.”
“There’s nothing to hide. It’s a renovation project. That’s all.”
“Then why did you hide it?”
Fair question.
“Because I’m still learning how to do this. The relationship thing. The—the being open thing. And I panicked. I thought telling you about Jessica would make you uncomfortable. Make you—I don’t know, doubt us? Doubt me? So I avoided it. Which was the wrong move. I see that now.”
Her expression softened slightly. “I’m not going to leave you because you have a client who’s your ex. I’m not Vanessa. I’m not going to—to abandon you because things get slightly complicated.”
“I know. Logically I know that. But fear isn’t logical. And I’m still—I’m still learning to trust that you’ll stay. That you won’t—won’t see something and decide I’m too much trouble.”
“Says the man who saw all my damage and stayed anyway.”
“That’s different.”
“How?”
“Because your damage is—is beautiful. It’s proof of your strength. Mine is just—failure. Proof I screw things up.”
“Reid, having lunch with a client isn’t failure. Not telling me about it immediately is just—is just being human. Being scared. Making a mistake. That’s—that’s allowed. You’re allowed to screw up. I’m not leaving because you had lunch with your ex and forgot to mention it.”
“Really?”
“Really. But next time—and there will be a next time because we’re human and we screw up—just tell me. Don’t hide. Don’t avoid. Just—be honest. Even when it’s uncomfortable. I can handle uncomfortable. I can’t handle being kept in the dark.”
“Noted. I’m sorry. Really sorry. I’ll tell you everything. Jessica, the project, all of it. There’s nothing to hide. It’s boring renovation work. Expanding her kitchen. Adding a bathroom. Very unsexy.”
She smiled slightly. “Good. Because I trust you. I do. I just—I need you to trust me too. Trust that I can handle things. That I won’t freak out over normal life stuff. That I’m—that I’m secure enough in us to not see threats everywhere.”
“Are you? Secure in us?”
“Yes. Are you?”
“I’m getting there. Every day I believe a little more that you’re staying. That this is real. That—that we’re building something permanent.”
“We are. But Reid—we have to communicate. We have to tell each other things. Even uncomfortable things. Especially uncomfortable things. That’s—that’s how this works.”
“I know. I’m sorry. I’ll do better.”
“I will too. Because I—I was jealous. When Candace mentioned it. I felt—felt threatened. Which is ridiculous because I trust you. But that twelve-year-old girl in me? She immediately thought: someone better came along. Someone from his past. Someone who—who knew him first. Knew him better. And I spiraled. Which isn’t fair to you.”
“It’s human. You’re allowed to be jealous. You’re allowed to feel threatened. You’re allowed to—to be messy and imperfect and have feelings that aren’t logical. That’s—that’s being real. I want you real, Hailey. Not perfect.”
“Same. I want you real too. Screwups and all.”
We stood in our kitchen, two imperfect people learning how to be together, and I felt—
I felt grateful. That she was here. That she’d moved here. That she—that she loved me enough to work through this instead of running.
“So we’re okay?” I asked.
“We’re okay. But you’re telling me about Jessica’s project. All of it. I want to know everything. Not because I don’t trust you. But because—because that’s what partners do. They share. They communicate. They—they let each other in.”
“Deal. Full transparency.”
“Good.” She moved closer. “And for the record—I’m not worried about Jessica. I’m not worried about any of your exes. Because I have you. And you have me. And we chose this. We’re—we’re building this. Together. That’s—that’s stronger than any ex-girlfriend with a renovation project.”
“You’re right.”
“I know. I’m very wise.”
“Very wise and very beautiful and very—mine.”
“Yours,” she agreed. “Forever. No take-backs.”
“No take-backs.”
We kissed in our kitchen, the Jessica drama behind us, and I realized:
This was what healthy relationships looked like. Miscommunication. Resolution. Communication. Growth.
Not perfect. Just—real.
Messy and imperfect and figuring-it-out-as-we-go.
But together. Always together.
That was enough.
That was everything.
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