Logan stayed.
He was the quiet presence that never wavered.
The good one I never saw coming.
And maybe… just maybe…
He was the one I’d been waiting for all along.
“How is a girl supposed to trust herself?” I asked Dottie, my fingers still gently gliding over her coat.
“How is she supposed to know what’s right or wrong?”
That’s the thing about life. I was starting to understand there’s no guarantee. No shining sign pointing to the right path. We make choices, and then we live with them. We endure the fallout or we cherish the reward. Either way, the only constant is us. Ourselves. The trust we build—or break—within.
And that, right there, was my biggest hurdle.
Learning to trust that I could handle the outcome, whatever it might be, without needing all the answers up front. Without guarantees. Just me, doing the best I could with what I had.
So much was spinning in my head, but surprisingly, Miles and Buck barely held space in it anymore.
Miles? I’d deal with him in time.
Buck? He’d become a ghost I’d eventually lay to rest. I’d heal from the wounds he tore wide open and stitch myself back together stronger than before.
I’d keep working on myself. Keep discovering what I deserved, what I needed, and what I would no longer tolerate.
But Logan… Logan was the one I kept circling back to.
Fifteen years.
He’d had a crush on me since we were kids. And instead of pushing or posturing, he waited in the background—quiet, patient, watching. He never forced his way in. Never demanded more than I was ready to give. He just… waited.
That gentleness, that restraint, that steady, unwavering kindness?
That was sexy as hell.
Logan had always been my protector, the one person I knew would show up for me—without question, without expectation.
And now, here I was, sitting in the dirt, talking to a horse, thinking about the boy who never stopped showing up.
A laugh bubbled up in my chest before I could stop it—loud, full, real.
I threw my head back and let it out, a true, belly-deep laugh that surprised even me.
Dottie blinked at me like I’d lost my mind.
“Yeah, you’re probably right,” I said, still chuckling. “I am crazy.”
But for the first time in a while, it didn’t feel like a bad thing.
I stood up, brushing the dirt from my jeans with shaky hands. I couldn’t sit in the uncertainty any longer—I needed to move. I needed to choose, act,dosomething instead of spinning in circles inside my own head.
Dottie followed without protest for the first time since we brought her home. It felt like a sign she could sense the shift inside me.
I led her into the barn, tying her off gently for the night. She gave a soft huff, almost like encouragement, and I paused for a second to press my forehead to hers.
“Thank you,” I whispered.
