Never KISS The Enemy | ✎

Chapter 10 | Cassidy

Grace sat down across from me, her coffee in hand, and gave me that piercing look of hers—the one that said she could see right through me. I hadn't even gotten a chance to open my mouth, but she was already ahead of me.

"Let me guess," she said, her tone somewhere between empathy and exasperation. "You're still thinking about the public forum tomorrow."

I nodded, running my thumb along the edge of my coffee cup. "I can't stop," I admitted. "I feel like I'm carrying the weight of the entire town on my shoulders, and I don't know if I'm ready for it." The words came out sharper than I intended, a mix of fear and the raw frustration that had been building ever since this whole mess had started.

Grace's eyes softened, and she reached out to touch my hand. "Cass, you've been ready for this your whole life. You've always fought for what's right. I know tomorrow feels huge, but you're not alone."

I wanted to believe her, but the truth was, my confidence felt paper-thin. "It's just... it's not only about the bakery anymore," I said quietly, staring down into the swirling foam of my latte. "I'm starting to realize it's about so much more than that. It's about the history of this town, the memories, the traditions, the people who've made it what it is. It's about what Valedge means to me—what it meant to my parents, and what it could mean to the next generation."

Grace didn't say anything right away, just let me talk, which was exactly what I needed. The words started to spill out faster now, as if they'd been dammed up inside me for far too long. "I know I've put my heart and soul into the bakery, and yes, it's a big part of why I'm fighting. But there's something deeper here—something I can't quite put my finger on. It's like I'm trying to protect not just a building, but a feeling. And the fact that Landon is leading the charge on this development... it makes it all so much more complicated."

Grace's brow furrowed, and she took a slow sip of her coffee. "Do you think this is still about high school?" she asked gently, as if treading carefully over old wounds. "About the rivalry between you two?"

I let out a shaky breath and shook my head, but I knew it wasn't an entirely honest gesture. "It's not just about high school. But it's hard not to feel like we're back in that same place, like we're competing all over again. And I don't understand why he can't see what I see. Why does it always have to be about change and progress with him? Why can't he value the history, the heart of Valedge?"

Grace set her cup down with a decisive thud, her eyes alight with determination. "Because Landon has always been about moving forward, about making his mark. But that doesn't mean he's right. And it doesn't mean you're wrong for wanting to preserve what's special here. You have every right to be angry, Cassidy. Every right to feel what you're feeling."

I swallowed, feeling a lump form in my throat. "But what if I'm wrong? What if my fight isn't enough? The town is so divided, Grace. I hear it in every conversation at the bakery, every whisper on the street. Half the people want the mall and half want to protect what's already here. What if I can't sway them?"

Grace's gaze hardened, and she leaned in closer. "Then you fight anyway. You make your voice heard. And if Landon is going to stand there tomorrow with his smooth, rational arguments about jobs and progress, then you go up there and you show them why this matters to you—truly matters to you. Don't hide how personal this is, Cass. Let them see how much you care. That's what will make the difference."

I felt a sudden surge of warmth for her—my best friend who always knew how to clear the fog when everything felt like it was crumbling around me. "I don't know what I'd do without you," I said, and I meant it.

Grace smiled, the tension in her expression easing a little. "You'd still be you—stubborn as hell and ready to take on the world." She squeezed my hand. "Just remember, Cassidy, this isn't only about the past. This is about the future of Valedge too, and I know you're the one to help everyone see that."

I took a deep breath, the tension in my shoulders loosening just enough to give me some hope. I knew she was right. Tomorrow was my chance to show the town why this mattered—why Valedge mattered. But I still had to face the truth that it wasn't just about the future; the ghosts of my past with Landon were still there, hovering in every unspoken word, in every heated argument.

The next evening, the town hall was packed. It was standing room only, with residents crammed into every corner, eager to hear both sides of the debate. My heart pounded as I scanned the crowd, recognizing familiar faces—neighbors, loyal customers, people I'd known my entire life, people who had watched me grow up, who had seen the bakery pass from my parents to me. But they weren't the only ones. There were also unfamiliar faces—outsiders who had come to see what all the fuss was about, and people who, no doubt, supported the promise of Landon's gleaming new mall.

I caught sight of Landon, standing by the stage, a calm expression on his face as he spoke quietly with some of his supporters. He looked confident, collected, every bit the charming, rational businessman he'd become. A flash of anger and frustration surged through me. It was as if he didn't even have to try. He just believed he was right, and that belief gave him power.

The chairman called the meeting to order, and I felt a knot tighten in my stomach. This was it—our final stand.

Landon went first, his voice steady and authoritative, laying out facts and figures about the economic benefits of the mall, about job creation and increased revenue. He talked about the future of Valedge, about "progress" and "opportunity." His words were measured, logical, persuasive. I watched the audience nod along, some of them clearly impressed, others wary but intrigued. His arguments were solid, I'd give him that. He knew exactly what he was doing, and he did it well.

But when my turn came, I took a deep breath and stepped up to the podium, feeling a mixture of fear and fierce determination that made my pulse race. I didn't have his rehearsed confidence. I didn't have his slick presentation. But I had something else—something raw and real. I had the heart of Valedge.

"I understand the appeal of the mall," I began, my voice shaking slightly but gaining strength with each word. "I understand the promises of jobs and revenue. But Valedge isn't just numbers on a spreadsheet, and it's not just another stop along the highway. This town is a living, breathing community. It's made up of people who have built their lives here, who have memories tied to every corner, every building. This isn't just about preserving the past—it's about valuing what makes us unique."

I glanced around the room, and saw familiar faces softening, heads nodding in agreement. My own eyes stung with unshed tears, but I pressed on. "We can't measure the spirit of a town in dollars and cents. We can't replace memories with concrete and glass and expect things to stay the same. The choice we make here isn't just about a mall—it's about the kind of future we want for Valedge. A future that respects where we've come from, while finding ways to grow without losing what makes us who we are."

The room was silent when I finished, and I forced myself to meet Landon's eyes. For a moment, I saw something flicker there—something that almost looked like understanding, or maybe just surprise. I couldn't be sure. But the look was gone as quickly as it had come, replaced with the same guarded mask he always wore when we clashed.

The town was split, and I knew that no matter what happened next, the battle was far from over. But for the first time, standing there, looking out at the faces of the people who had come to listen, I knew I had given them more than facts and figures. I had given them a piece of my heart. And whatever happened, they would remember that.

Even if Landon never did.