"Don't worry about it," he snaps. "You won't be around long enough for it to matter."
The words hit like a physical blow.Won't be around long enough.
I blink. Once. Twice. "Excuse me?"
"Eli, don't," Addie says, voice strained. "Come on. Not here."
But he's not looking at her. He's looking at me, and there's something raw in his expression now, something that's been building for days finally cracking through.
"You've been a complete ass since I got home," I say, heat flaring fast and sharp in my chest. "Snapping at me. Shutting me out. Acting like I'm some stranger who wandered onto the property—"
"You are," Eli cuts in.
The words drop between us like a stone into still water.
I step closer, pulse pounding hard enough I can hear it in my ears. "This is my family's ranch, Eli. I have every right to know what the hell is going on."
His laugh is sharp and humorless. "Your family's ranch." He shakes his head. "You want to know what's going on, Hazel? Really?"
"Yes," I fire back. "I do."
"Then talk to your aunt." His voice is hard. Final.
"Don't put this on Mae—"
"I'm not putting anything on anyone," he says, and there's something in his tone now that makes my stomach twist. Something like hurt underneath the anger. "This has been going on for years. You just weren't here to see it."
The truth of it lands hard because I know he's right. The boarders leaving. Cole circling like a vulture, making offers. All of it happening while I was gone, while I was pretending I could just walk away and nothing would change here.
Addie moves forward, voice pleading. "Eli, stop. You're being unfair—"
"No," he says, still not looking at her. His eyes are locked on mine. "I'm done pretending."
"Pretending what?" My voice comes out hoarse.
For a moment, he doesn't answer. Just looks at me with something that might be disappointment, might be grief, might be fury—I can't tell anymore. When he finally speaks, his voice is rough and too real.
"That you give a damn about any of this."
I freeze. "That's not fair—"
"Funny how things fall to people who stick around," he says, and the words cut deeper than any of the others. "Five years,Hazel. Not a call. Not a text. You walked away from everything—from everyone—and now you show up expecting what? A parade? Answers? Forgiveness?"
"I didn't expect anything," I say, but my voice wavers.
"You ran," Eli says flatly. "And you don't get to come back and act shocked that the world kept turning without you."
The rodeo noise crashes around us—cheers and music and laughter that feels obscene against the moment unfolding between us.
"I came back to help," I manage.
"Then help," Eli says, eyes hard and hurting in a way that makes my chest ache. "But stop acting like you're owed something. Stop acting like you didn't leave us all to pick up the pieces."
"You think I don't know I left?" My voice shakes but I don't look away. "You think I don't live with that every single day? You want me to apologize for surviving? For choosing myself when staying here was killing me?"
For a second—just a second—something flickers in his expression. Then it hardens again.
Chace steps forward, jaw tight. "Eli, that's enough—"
