Page 63 of Wild Sanctuary

He turns to me with a look that says three weeks of patience, a plane ticket and a rental Audi, and now he’d like to know what his investment is buying him. The same way he approaches everything. Effort in, result out.

“Finally.” He unbuckles his seatbelt and leans across the console. “Are you ready to be sensible about this yet, babe?”

I put my hand on his chest, stopping him from closing the distance.

“Felix. We need to talk.”

He sits back in his seat, his smile faltering. Just at the corners, a slight rearrangement of his features as his brain recalibrates.

“That’s never a good sentence.”

“No,” I quietly confirm. “It’s not.”

When I slip out of the car, I open the back door and lift my hat off the back seat. Felix follows me inside the cabin.

I turn on the lamp by the bed, dropping my hat on the bedpost. Felix slides his hands into his pockets as he takes the place in. His eyes land on the brass bed frame, the patchwork quilt, the small desk covered in my notes and laptop and the stack of county records I’ve been combing through.

He doesn’t see any of it. He’s waiting for an opening.

“This is… cozy.” He shrugs.

The numbness from the car is wearing off and in its place a sharp clarity descends.

“How did you find me, Felix? At the orchard.”

“Find My Friends, babe.” He states it without hesitation, like it’s the most obvious thing in the world. “You shared your location with me months ago. Just checked when I landed in Bozeman to see where you were. Saw you were at some orchard instead of the ranch, so I drove straight there. Figured I’d surprise you.”

A location share I forgot to revoke three weeks ago. Or didn’t, because every interaction with Felix since then has been about not lighting the fuse.

He didn’t need to call. He knew where I was and in his mind, those are the same thing. Three weeks of managing this man for the sake of my career, and I’m coming to realize the price is higher than I’m willing to pay.

“Felix. Sit down.”

But he doesn’t sit. Instead, he leans against the counter and folds his arms. “Okay.” His voice drips with patience. “Talk to me, Daisy.”

“You shouldn’t have flown out.”

His lip kicks up on one side. “I came because you sounded like you needed me.”

“No.” I shake my head. “I specifically told you not to come.”

He tilts his head. “You said no because you were trying to be strong. That’s how I knew it was the right call.”

“I broke up with you three weeks ago, Felix.” The words come out flat.

He exhales. “We took a step back, babe. You needed space.” Then he gestures around the cabin, disbelief etched across his face. “I gave you space. I thought you’d be grateful.”

I don’t even attempt to stop my jaw from unhinging at his utter audacity.

“Babe, look at me.” He steps closer, his voice coaxing. “Here’s what we’re going to do. You wrap up this piece, come back home, and we’ll forget all about this little rough patch, okay?”

I blink once, twice, then, “No.”

His smile dims as he recoils slightly. “What do you⁠—”

“I’m not wrapping up. And I’m not forgetting any of it.” My voice is stronger now, and I stand my full five feet tall as I continue, “Three weeks ago, I told you we were done. That we could still be friends, and you smiled at me before your reply ensured that I could never be friends with someone like you.”

Felix’s voice cools. “Be careful what you say next, Daisy. You don’t want me telling Dad you’ve gone off the rails out here. Never know who he might tell.”