She exhaled slowly.
It was just a fling,she told herself, clutching the steering wheel until her knuckles turned white.
A bit of fun while you settled in.
She tried to convince herself.
But she was a terrible liar.
As she backed out of the driveway, the image of Ronda inside Rhavor’s home burned into her mind.
She would have to find a new supplier.
Clearly, Rhavor’s kitchen—
—and perhaps his heart—
was already full up.
Chapter 14: Rhavor
“Rhavi, were you expecting someone? Because they’re leaving. Fast.”
Ronda stood at the kitchen window, peering out with intense curiosity.
Rhavor didn’t answer. His pulse kicked hard against his ribs—a frantic, jagged rhythm. Something was wrong.
He yanked the front door open.
All he saw was a cloud of dust drifting over the driveway, hanging like a ghost. The distant, fading whine of a car engine vanished into the fields.
His gaze dropped.
A small basket sat on the porch, abandoned against the weathered wood.
His stomach tightened into a knot.
The scent hit him instantly—nutty, rich with charred notes, and something softer threaded beneath it. Something floral. Sweet.
Sylvie.
“What’s going on?” Ronda asked, stepping out beside him.
“You should leave,” he said, not looking at her. “We settled everything between us, Ronda. There’s no reason for you to stay.”
“We haven’t settled the farm,” she shot back, her voice sharpening into that entitled edge he used to mistake for confidence. “I have as much right to be here as you do.”
Yes. He knew. This was the rot under his ribs—the mistake he’d made years ago coming back to bite him. And here it was, teeth sunk deep and twisting.
“Anyway,” she said lightly, lifting the box he’d packed for her with a shrug, “thanks for keeping my stuff safe. I half expected you’d burn it.”
She smirked, then leaned toward the basket with a bag in her hand.
“That smells amazing. What is it?”
“Goodbye, Ronda.”
She held his gaze, but he didn’t flinch.
