“Holy shit.” I shook my head. “How do you feel about that?” I asked Brody. For years, the two of them had had a strange push-pull relationship. They swore they were only friends, but every other person in town could see that whatever was going on between them was a whole lot more than friendship. Even if they wouldn’t admit it to themselves.
“It’s not my decision.” He dropped his head. “But I think it’s ridiculous.” His voice was laced with a mixture of frustration and anger. “First, she’s on this quest to date and find a partner, and now all of a sudden, she’s abandoned that idea and she’s researching sperm donors. Says she doesn’t need a husband to have a child.”
“Well…she doesn’t.” All eyes turned to Avery, who immediately held up her hands. “All I’m saying is that if she really wants a child and doesn’t have a partner in her life, there are options that can actually make a lot of sense.”
“No,” Brody growled. “Nothing about this makes sense.”
We all grew quiet, exchanging glances with one another as we left Brody to his feelings. After a moment, someone changed the subject, and Quinn started to complain about school and how there was never enough time to read because of her homework.
Finished eating, I leaned back in my chair and let the noise of my family wash over me.
Quinn was complaining about school now, Avery and Delaney were debating something quietly at the far end of the table, and Brody stared down at his plate like he was still arguing with himself.
But my mind had drifted elsewhere.
To a handful of daisies crushed into the dirt.
To a woman who hadn’t meant to hurt a boy, even if she had.
I’d spent years carrying a version of that moment with Jess like it was proof of something. Proof that I didn’t measure up. Proof that I should keep my distance.
But sitting there, surrounded by family and half-heard conversations, it struck me that maybe I’d been wrong.
Maybe that story wasn’t finished yet.
And maybe—just maybe—it was time to stop letting a bunch of crushed daisies decide how the rest of it went.
Chapter Eight
Jess
By the time he called to let me know he’d returned from the city, I hadn’t seen my fiancé in almost a week. I probably should have been excited to see him, or feeling…well, anything. But the only thing I could focus on as I made the drive across town was the feeling of dread that was pressing down on my shoulders, only getting heavier the closer I got to his place.
We’d barely spoken while he’d been in the city for meetings, and when we had, it had mostly been about the development project. Of course, he’d wanted to know all about the hike and what objections we were going to need to overcome to push things through.
He’d checked in a few times with the progress on our wedding plans. But not once had he asked about me.
He never did.
Why had it taken me so long to notice that?
I pulled up in front of the short-term rental he’d beenliving in. I’d offered him to move in with me more times than I could count, but he always declined, saying he liked the space and that it made more sense to keep things separate until everything was finalized.
I never knew whether he meant the developmentor the wedding.
As I knocked on the door and stepped inside, I was pretty sure I finally understood that they were one and the same.
The realization should have filled me with sadness, but instead, it was more of an understanding. A quiet acceptance that had taken me way too long to come to.
The walls of his rental were bare except for a few generic prints. Impersonal and cold. A lot like him, I was coming to realize.
“Trevor, we need to?—”
“I’ve been thinking of that access point.” He cut me off before I’d even closed the door behind me. “I don’t like the way that they?—”
“That’s not what I want to talk about.”
He didn’t seem to hear me. “I know this is one of the biggest hang-ups,” he continued. “And I think?—”
