He hesitates—just for a second—like he might say something else. Like he might stop me. But he doesn’t.
Instead, he nods once, turning toward the street. He lifts a hand to flag down a cab.
My fingers are shaking. Not from fear but from everything I’m trying not to feel. I curl them into the paperwork, feeling the weight of it all.
Get it together. This is the right choice. Leaving is always the right choice.
I know this… even if it feels like the worst one I’ve ever made.
A cab pulls up. Donovan opens the door for me without a word, and I slide inside.
He follows, and the door shuts, the frenetic city disappearing behind glass.
And just like that, there’s no going back.
I tell myself I’m doing the right thing.
But if this is right, then why does it feel so wrong?
Chapter
Nine
SCARLETT
The drive home from the airport is too quiet. The road stretches out ahead of us, a thin strip of black in a sea of towering pines. It should feel familiar. Comforting.
But somehow, it doesn’t.
I keep my eyes on the window, watching the landscape shift from highway to small town, from noise to stillness.
From Vegas chaos… to something that should feel like safety.
Donovan doesn’t push. He drives like he does everything else—steady, focused, like the world could fall apart around him and he’d still keep the wheel straight.
I wish I knew what that felt like.
“You want to tell me what happened back there?” he asks finally.
I don’t look at him. “No.”
He side-eyes me, his Adam’s apple working.
“Alright.”
The strong silent type. I counted on him not to ask too many questions, not to care. But now every warm look my direction tugs at my heart, and the quiet tension between us is worse than any single question.
I cross my arms tightly over my chest. There are words. So many words in my head, but they’re all a jumble. I don’t know where to start sorting them to make him understand.
Cedarville comes into view. One long Main Street stacked on either side with familiar buildings interspersed with small cedars and larger pines. Katie’s Bakery, Cedarville Auto Repair, The Hidden Nook Bookstore, Cedarville Mercantile and Gas on the corner. All closed storefronts, except the last, as dusk approaches.
Everything is exactly where it should be. Exactly the same.
And yet, my stomach tightens. I shift uneasily in the passenger seat.
Donovan whistles long and low, the first sound I’ve heard from him in a while. “This place really rolls up the sidewalks come sunset. Even more so than Hollister.”
I nod, shoulders relaxing. I smile thinly. “Hollister’s downright metropolitan compared to this place.”
