I want to know why he needed time away, and just as quickly, I remind myself that it’s none of my business.
“He’d probably appreciate that. I need to get back to Phoebe and the other kids.”
His eyes finally find mine again, and my heart stutters. “It was really good to see you.” The words are so low that I might’ve imagined them, so the next words out of my mouth are going to be embarrassing if that’s the case.
“You too.” The words almost stick in my throat, but I can’t stop them.
As the moments of silence tick away, I squeeze my eyes closed and wish I’d been brave enough to seek him out alone. Before the studio, before the field trip—when I wasn’t so exhausted and emotional and clearly desperate for someone else to help carry the load. To feel less alone.
That’s all this is. Exhaustion.
I almost want to laugh because I’m imagining all kinds of scenarios that are as fictional as the books Abby reads—the only indication there’s still anything between us is the chemistry and his teasing.
I’m not this person who puts the cart so far ahead of the horse, but it’s this place.
It’s Aiden.
I think of that little box again—the place he needs to live in, where I can protect myself and my daughter.
“Chloe—”
I shake my head, mostly to will myself to say what I need to say.
“I’m going to walk away now, Aiden,” I say, hating how much effort it takes. Walking away is the right thing. It’s also the hardest. “I don’t have room in my life right now for anything else. I’ve got someone else to think about, and she has to come first.”
Before he can give me a reason to stay, and it wouldn’t take much, I head back to the kids with a slight limp and a conflicted heart. Thankfully, I’ve got the one thing that always helps me sort out my feelings hanging from my shoulder.
I’m just not sure it’s going to have the intended effect this time. The lens can capture all the joy I have in my life right now and the memories I’ll make this morning with my daughter and her friends.
But it can’t tell me what walking away from Aiden will actually cost me, and if I’m making the right choice.
five
CHLOE
I survived.
That’s being a little dramatic, but knowing Aiden was lurking somewhere on the farm after our run-in threw me off for the rest of the morning.
My hands are shaky as I follow Phoebe onto the bus, and it’s not from the cold. The noise rises as kids crowd in, each trying to be heard. I wish I’d driven. When I signed up to chaperone, riding with Abby and the kids seemed like the easiest option.
But I didn’t factor in Aiden Wheeler upending so many memories in one fell swoop, or the quiet I’d need to process that.
Storywood Ridge adds unplanned variables. It quietly edits your script without warning, something I would’ve noticed sooner if I hadn’t been so distracted by finances and the busy season.
With Phoebe off with her friends, I take advantage of the empty seat. I bend, hugging my head to my knees. No matter how I spin it, seeing how easily he adapted to Phoebe rattled me.Her own father doesn’t interact with her like that—on the rare occasions he shows up.
Which is practically never.
Add in all the feelings about Aiden bubbling below the surface still, and I’m a mess.
Remember the way he broke your heart? Focus on that part.
And remember the way duty won, every single time.
The farm, his family—his castle—alwayscame first.
“Alright, spill. I saw you talking to Aiden Wheeler in the trees.” Abby slides next to me, and I bolt upright so fast I hit my head on the seat in front of me.
