When we finally pull apart, she presses her palms to my shoulders and studies me.
“Olive…” she starts, her brows pinching. “Please don’t take this the wrong way, but are you pregnant? Because your stomach feels a lot like Charlie’s did.”
My heart lurches. I open my mouth. Close it. And then ask the only question that matters.
“Liam didn’t tell you?”
Her expression shifts. Hardens. Her eyes narrow like a storm gathering behind them.
“That freaking idiot,” Phern hisses again, fists clenched in her lap. “You told him, and he still let you go!”
“It was terrible,” I murmur, the words catching in my throat as fresh tears blur the road ahead. “He asked for proof, Phern.”
Her jaw drops like she physically can’t believe it. “Hewhat?”
I nod slowly, shame prickling hot behind my eyes. “Yeah.”
Phern makes a sound that’s half-growl, half-curse and it vibrates through me like armor sliding into place.
“Oh, I’m going to kill him,” she mutters. “I swear to God, Olive, I’ll wring his neck. With a smile.”
And just like that, despite the sting, I laugh. It’s short, breathy, tear-soaked and trembling. But it’s real. Because for the first time in what feels like forever, I don’t feel completely alone in this.
“Come on,” I say, shifting into gear. “My mom’s going to be dying to see the newest photos. I’ll catch you up on everything on the drive.”
And I do.
I tell her everything. From the second I got on the plane to Broken Heart Creek, full of fragile hope and nerves, to the way Carl was sitting in Liam’s living room like a ticking bomb waiting to go off. I tell her about the fight. How my voice shook, how Liam looked at me like I was someone he didn’t recognize. How I left. How I miss him still.
By the time I’m done, my hands are shaking on the wheel.
Phern watches me for a moment, then says quietly, “He’s not doing any better.”
I glance at her, heart thudding.
“I’m not sure if you want to hear this or not,” she continues, “but he’s looking rough. He’s been at Will’s bar almost every night.”
I blink. “Will opened a bar?”
Her expression softens, her mouth tugging into a fond smile. “He did. Called it Flowers End.”
My chest tightens. I remember that night we were all in the living room and Phern suggested the name for the bar.
“It opened right after Sam and Charlie’s wedding,” Phern adds. “It’s doing really well too, especially since Buck and Sherry finally split and Sherry turned Knot and Spur into a boutique.”
“Seriously?” I blink, trying to picture it. “She got rid of the bar side of the business?”
“Yep. She said she was tired of Buck’s drama and wanted to do something for herself. So now it’s flannel skirts and fringe jackets and a candle bar in the corner where you can make your own scents.”
I laugh again, shaking my head. “Only in Broken Heart Creek.”
Phern leans back, watching me for a moment. “You know, it’s still your town, too.”
I swallow. “Doesn’t feel like it.”
“It could,” Phern says softly. “If you ever wanted it to again. There are a ton of ranches out there that would hire you. And you'd be close to family.”
“I have family here,” I point out, glancing at her with a raised brow.
