Page 90 of The Pumpkin Pie Book Nook

Zoe led her through the shop into the work area behind it.

The back workshop was pure Zoe—organized chaos in the best way. A long wooden table sat in the center, scattered with floral shears, ribbon, twine, and little water tubes. Half-finished bouquets rested in vases, greens spilling over the edges. A pegboard on the wall held tools in neat rows. The air smelled like crushed stems and sweet petals and dried lavender.

And tucked in the corner, near a short set of steps that led down to storage, Emma sat with her knees pulled to her chest.

Zoe’s cat, Whiskers, and her kitten, Angel, were pressed up against her. Emma was speaking softly to them, trying hard to keep it together.

Robyn’s heart broke.

She lowered herself slowly, careful not to startle her. “Hey,” she said softly. “Emma.”

Emma didn’t look up. Her shoulders were shaking.

Robyn crouched closer, staying at Emma’s level. “Are you okay?”

Emma’s voice came out muffled. “You’re leaving.”

Robyn’s throat tightened. “Oh, sweetheart…”

Emma finally lifted her head, and her eyes were glossy and wide. “I thought…” Her voice wobbled. “I thought maybe… maybe we could be a family. But you’re leaving. Why are you leaving?”

Robyn’s chest ached so hard it felt like it might split.

She shifted closer, but didn’t reach out without permission. “I’m not leaving because of you,” she said carefully. “And I’m not leaving because I want to.”

Emma sniffed hard, wiping her nose with her sleeve. “Then why?”

Robyn took a slow breath. “I have to go to Connecticut for work,” she admitted. “That’s part of my job. But that doesn’t mean I stop caring about you. And it doesn’t mean I disappear.”

Emma’s lower lip trembled. “But people disappear.”

Robyn’s eyes stung. She glanced at the kitties—both purring like tiny engines—and then back at Emma’s face.

“I can’t promise that everything will stay exactly the same,” Robyn said softly, because she wouldn’t lie to her. “But I can promise this: I will always come back. I will always show up when I say I will. And no matter where I am, I will care about you.”

Emma stared at her, breathing shaky.

Robyn let the truth settle gently between them. “And if you’re scared,” she added, voice cracking, “you tell me. You don’t run off alone, okay? You scared your dad. You scared me.”

Emma’s eyes filled again. “I didn’t want to be in the middle.”

Robyn’s heart twisted. “Oh, honey. You’re not in the middle. You’re… you’re the most important thing.”

Emma looked down at Angel, her fingers still buried in the kitten’s fur. “I just… like you.”

Robyn smiled through the ache. “I like you too.”

For a moment, Emma leaned into her just a little—and Robyn let out a deep breath.

Behind them, the workshop door creaked softly.

Robyn looked up.

Tyler stood there, coat still on, hair wind-tossed, his face tight with fear and relief and the kind of exhaustion that came from imagining the worst possible thing had happened.

His eyes met hers, and something passed between them. It was quiet, complicated, and completely raw, and she knew he’d heard her conversation with Emma. His gaze flicked to his daughter, and his whole body softened.

Robyn rose slowly and stepped back. Tyler crossed the room in two strides and crouched in front of his daughter, hands gentle as he brushed hair off her face. “Hey,” he said, voice low. “Hey, Em.”