“I have to go,” I say, my voice hollow.
I turn and flee, not waiting for a response. I don’t take the cookies. I don’t look back. I just run down the stairs, past Captain Ashford’s confused look.
“Fuck, Millie, I didn’t mean to say that,” I hear Maddox call from the top of the stairs, his voice ragged with regret.
But I don’t stop. I can’t.
In my car, the tears finally break free. They come in great, racking sobs that shake my entire body. I rest my forehead against the steering wheel, my vision blurred, my throat raw.
He called me selfish. And the worst part is, a small, horrible part of me thinks he’s right. I’ve been so focused on my own fear, my own heart, that I haven’t stopped to think about the wreckage I’m leaving behind.
On the passenger seat sits the tin of cookies I was supposed to deliver to Grace at her flower shop. A small, mundane task from a life that now feels a million miles away. I wipe my eyes, take a shuddering breath, and start the car. I have to do something normal. I have to finish one thing today.
The flower shop is a riot of color and scent, a welcome assault on my senses. The bell above the door jingles as I walk in, and I’m immediately enveloped in the smell of roses, lilies, and damp earth.
“Hey!” Grace calls from behind a massive arrangement of sunflowers. “I was wondering if you were going to make it!”
I force a smile, clutching the cookie tin like a lifeline. “Sorry I’m late. Brought you a peace offering.”
“Well, come on back and let me see them,” she says, and her warm, cheerful voice is a balm on my frayed nerves.
I walk toward the counter, my eyes scanning the beautiful blooms. And then I stop dead.
Standing by a display of peonies is Knox. And he’s not alone. He’s with a teenage girl, her hair dark with purple tips. She’s holding a bouquet of wildflowers, and she’s looking up at him with an expression that’s a perfect mix of teenage exasperation and deep affection.
“Dad, can we get these?” she asks. Her voice is a familiar, husky tone I recognize instantly from the phone call I overheard at the café. “They’re so much cooler than the roses.”
Knox looks down at her, and his entire face changes. The hard, authoritative lines of the sheriff soften into something warm, something gentle. Something… paternal.
“Whatever you want, kiddo,” he says with a love so pure and unconditional it makes my heart ache. “Get two.”
The shock hits me with the force of a tidal wave, knocking the air from my lungs and leaving me breathless. I stare at them, at the easy intimacy between them, at the way he ruffles her hair, at the way she rolls her eyes but leans into his touch.
He has a daughter. He has a whole other life I knew nothing about. I almost destroyed my oldest friendship for a man I don’t know at all.
I turn on my heels and run.
Liam
The rain has gotten worse. What started as a miserable drizzle has morphed into a full-blown deluge, hammering against the large front window of The Cocoa Nook in a relentless, driving rhythm. The sky outside is a bruised, angry purple, and the streetlights have already flickered on, their glow diffused and hazy in the downpour.
Millie was supposed to make a delivery to Grace’s flower shop and be back over four hours ago. The flower shop closed two hours ago.
My stomach is a cold, tight knot. I’ve tried calling her phone six times. Each time, it goes straight to voicemail, the tinny, automated voice a punch to the gut every single time.
Jessica wipes down the last of the tables, her movements quick and efficient. She glances at the clock, then at the storm raging outside. “This rain looks like it’s getting worse,” she says, pulling on her coat. “I should probably get going before the roads turn into rivers.”
“It’s okay,” I tell her, my voice tighter than I intend. “I’ll close up shop.”
“You sure?” she asks. Her brow furrows with concern.
“Yeah. Go on. Get home safe.”
She gives me a small, sympathetic smile before grabbing her bag and heading for the door. “See you tomorrow, Liam.”
The bell jingles, and then she’s gone, leaving me alone in the quiet café with the sound of the rain and the frantic, pounding beat of my own heart. I lock the door behind her and flip the sign to “Closed.” My hand is shaking slightly.
I pull out my phone and call Maddox. It rings twice before he picks up, his voice breathless and filled with the static of a bad connection. “Liam? What’s up?”
