She tapped at the computer, scribbled on a little card, and handed it over. I tucked it into my purse, thanked her, and walked out into the bright morning sunlight feeling heavier than when I’d walked in.
I’d come here hoping for answers. For clarity. Instead,I was drivingback toBloom & Vinewith the same questions echoing inside me, only louder.
By the time I pushed open the shop door again, Emma was freshening a silk arrangement. She looked up with a mischievous grin.“You were gone a while,”she said, tugging the bow tight around a vase.“Everything okay?”
“Fine,”I answered a little too quickly.“Just took longer than I thought.”
Emma didn’t press, thank goodness. She snipped the ribbon with a satisfying snap of the scissors and lined up the vase with three others. Then, as if the thought had just occurred to her, she asked,“Hey, you didn’t forget about the Bennett twins’ party, did you? Charlie and Wyatt—hard to believe they’re turning one already. Next Friday night.”
My cheeks warmed.“I didn’t forget.”
Emma arched a brow, a sly look flickering across her face.“So, are you and Sawyer going together?”
The way she said it—breezy and casual—still managed to make my breath hitch. I gave a laugh that sounded more like a cough.“We’re not ready to…make anything public yet. Still a lot for us to work through, so we’re just playing like nothing is going on.”
Emma tied another neat bow, her fingers moving with an ease that almost distracted me from how her expression shifted—lighter at first, then thoughtful, like a memory had just slipped loose.
“You know,”she said slowly,“it’s funny you’d say you two aren’t ready to be public. It reminded me of something I overheard once. A long time ago, at Ropers.”
I leaned an elbowon the counter, pretending to be more interested in smoothing out a wrinkle in the florist’s paper than in her story.“Oh?”
She nodded, eyes narrowing slightly as if she were pulling the scene back into focus.“Sawyer was there with Easton—this was way before the Powerball. I don’t even think you were in there that night. Anyway, they were talking about Mosul.Awoman Sawyerhadbeen…involved with.”Emma’s shrug was casual, but her words hit sharper than she probably realized.“Didn’t know if it was love or just lust, but he sounded hung up on her.”
My hand stilled against the paper. I forced myself to laugh, light and breezy.“Where’d you hear all that?”
“Like I said—Ropers. I was behind them in line waiting to pay my tab. They weren’t exactly whispering. It just stuck in my mind because Sawyer didn’t usually talk like that, not back then. Seemed…different.”She shook her head as if brushing it away, going back to fussing with the ribbon.“Anyway, it was years ago. Doesn’t mean anything now.”
I nodded, pasted on a polite smile, and bent down to scoop Sunny into my arms. She wiggled happily, oblivious to the way my stomach had tightened.
Inside, though, the words rattled. A woman in Mosul. Someone who’d left enough of a mark on Sawyer that Easton had heard about her. Someone I’d never even known existed.
And just like that, the man I’d been falling for felt like a stranger again, full of corners and shadows I hadn’t yet touched.
The shop fell quiet after Emma left, the echo of our conversation fading into the hush of flowers and stems. I sighed and sank to the floor beside Sunny. She padded over immediately, tail wagging, pressing her warm body against my knee like she already knew I needed the comfort.
My hand moved over her silky fur, steadying me while my thoughts spun wild. The wasted hour in Dr. Hall’s waiting room still clung to me like static.
I’d gone in determined, wantingto take control, only to walk away with nothing settled. And then there was the calendar page I couldn’t stop picturing—one month missed, not two. That didn’t mean anything. I repeated it like a mantra. I was fine. Everything was fine.
Except it didn’t feel fine.
Emma’s words about Mosul rattled around in my chest, sharp and unyielding.Awoman Sawyerhadonce been wrapped up in, far away in a place I could hardly picture, let alone understand. Was she a ghost he’d buried or a shadow thatstill followed him? He’d never mentioned her, and maybe that should have been enough. But it wasn’t.
I leaned my forehead against Sunny’s head, eyes stinging. Ithought about Sawyerat the lake, his smile softening when he’d looked at me like I was more than just a friend with benefits from our small town. I thought about how his hand had brushed mine, how safe it had felt, how much I’d wanted to believe in that safety.
But now it all felt fragile. Like glass. One sharp truth, one crack in the surface, and it could shatter into pieces I wouldn’t know how to gather.
I stroked Sunny’s ears, whispering her name just to ground myself in something simple. The day had started with me chasing clarity, chasing control. But as I sat there on the cool shop floor withthe weight ofmy own doubts pressing down, I knew the truth.
I hadn’t found clarity.
I’d only uncovered more questions.
Chapter Thirteen
Cards on the Table
Sawyer
