I thought once Christmas was over, I’d have some time to relax, but this move was taking over my life. After a solid month of construction, there was so much work still left to do. And every day a new problem popped up.

“There isn’t room in the budget for new doors. You need to figure out how to make the old ones work.”

“They’re not a standard size,” the foreman explained. “We’re going to have to frame each one individually. We’re talking another three days just to deal with the doors.”

“You’re already two weeks behind. I have to move ten families by the end of February. I can’t take any more delays.”

“You’re either going to pay for new doors or pay for extra time. It’s your choice, lady.”

Ben strolled up, frowning. “The doors again?”

“I don’t understand. They’re perfectly good doors.”

“Projects like this always hit unforeseen snags. That’s why I told you to put several thousand in the Oh Shit fund.”

“I did, and most of that was eaten up with the lead paint abatement. Oh, and the electrical issue on the third floor. I never want to build or renovate anything ever again!”

“You’re doing great,” he said and squeezed my shoulder. “Usually, by this stage of a project, I’m throwing things.”

“What do you want me to do about the doors?” the foreman said.

I’d totally forgotten he was still standing there. “What was that you were saying about throwing things?” Sighing, I turned back to the foreman. “If we switch from tile to laminate in the dining area, will that be enough of a savings to cover the cost of new doors?”

“No. You need tiles down there. That’s a high traffic area. If you go with laminate, you’ll end up replacing it in a couple of years.” Ben handed the foreman a card. “Order whatever doors you need and put it on my account.”

“You can’t do that. You’ve already donated way too much money for this project,” I said. I turned to get the card back, but the foreman was already halfway down the hall.

“Don’t worry. It’s not my money; it’s Cooper’s.”

“Cooper’s money? Why are you spending Cooper’s money on my doors?”

“Because he just wants to help.” Ben pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed. “You two are so messed up. Don’t tell him I told you. He’d kick my ass. Half the money I’ve donated for this project has come from him.”

“I don’t understand. Why didn’t he just give me the money himself?”

“Because every time he offers to do something, you turn him down. Because he didn’t want you to think he was trying to buy your forgiveness. Take your pick. The man wants to help. Why don’t you just let him?”

I couldn’t tell him the truth. I couldn’t tell him about the contract or the fake relationship. Or about how all of that muddied our very real feelings for each other. I fell in love with him. I was still in love with him, but I didn’t know if his feelings were real or just a product of that fantasy relationship. And being around him, letting him help me, just complicated my feelings even more.

“How is he doing?”

“Good. We had lunch last week. He tried to talk me into taking yoga with him. He asks about you all the time. What’s really going on with you two?”

My phone buzzed with a text. I knew it had to be Cooper, so I just ignored it.

“It’s complicated.”

“This isn’t a Facebook status.” He nodded to the phone in my hand. “You two need to stop texting and just talk to each other.”

“How do you know it’s him?” I asked, tucking the phone into my pocket.

“Because every time you get a text from him, you go all soft. I know you still have feelings for him. And he’s in love with you.”

“He’s not in love with me. Infatuated, maybe. But not in love.”

“Trust me, he’s in love with you. He wouldn’t be doing all this if it was just infatuation. You’re not keeping him away because of that fight, are you? He overreacted. We’ve talked, and I promise you it won’t happen again.”

“It’s not just that. Everything moved so fast. I just want to slow things down.”

“You’ve gone beyond slow to glacial. Just go out with him. Let him make it up to you. Besides, I’m sick of passing notes between you two like we’re in middle school.”

Maybe he was right. I wanted to slow things down, but we’re not moving forward either. He’d stuck around after the contract had ended. He’s been secretly donating money to the shelter. He even scheduled a tour of the stadium for Mica and the other kids from the shelter. He was trying. It was about time I gave a little.

“You’re good for him. Don’t give up yet.”

Ben followed the foreman up the hall. I pulled out my phone and checked my messages.

Cooper: Are you free for dinner tomorrow?

I typed back a quick reply. I was willing to give us another chance—even if it left me in ruins.

Emily: I think it’s time we talk. Can we go someplace more private?

Cooper: Why don’t you stop by my place on the way home?

Hopefully, this wasn’t a mistake.