“I love you,” I say.
“I love you more,” she replies. “Get some sleep.”
We hang up and the apartment is still again, Theo’s movie still murmuring through the wall. I stare at my phone, thumb hovering, and notice Sawyer’s name sitting there in my recent texts—easy, familiar, real.
I let myself hold onto that for one small moment.
Just enough hope to carry me into tomorrow’s chaos.
CHAPTER 19
SAWYER
The reporter finally lowers her pen, eyes bright, cheeks a little pink from the warmth of the shop and the absolute circus of my last answer.
“So,” she says, glancing at her notes. “One more. The Dominion are having a golden climb to the top in their first year. Feeling good about that?”
“Feeling great,” I say. “We worked hard for it. That last stretch was brutal, but it paid off. Now it’s just about staying sharp.”
“And has spending your afternoons repotting snake plants and learning the emotional needs of ferns helped or hurt your preparation?” she asks, grinning.
I follow her gaze without meaning to and it lands on Juliette. She’s behind the counter, arms crossed, pretending not to listen while absolutely listening. The late-afternoon light pours in through the windows and catches in her hair, and for a second, I forget where I am. And I smile. I can’t help it.
“I don’t think it hurt at all,” I say, dragging my eyes away from her even if I don’t want to. “I’ve learned a lot about greenery and I’ve met and gotten to know one of our local business owners here in Alexandria. I’m amongst the people.”
The reporter raises a brow, amused.
“And that’s why I’m here,” I add, laying it on thick on purpose. “Working shoulder to shoulder with the people in the community.”
She snorts and scribbles. “You are…a lot, you know that?”
“Yeah,” I admit, catching Juliette cracking up as well. “It’s kind of my brand.”
Then she tilts her head, curiosity sharpening. “Okay, real talk. You used to be everywhere—magazines, gossip blogs, social feeds. Models, pop stars, red carpets. We haven’t really seen you out lately. Are you not dating? Is Sawyer Stockton really the most eligible bachelor in Alexandria?”
I feel my ears heat up as I glance back to Juliette. She’s not looking at me now. She’s pretending to organize a stack of plant tags, but her shoulders are still.
“I’m not hiding,” I say slowly. “I…things change. What you want shifts. What matters changes.”
The reporter watches me, intrigued.
“I’m more interested in being present,” I continue, my voice steady, my eyes still on Juliette. “In doing things that feel real. In being somewhere that means something.”
Juliette looks up and our eyes meet. For one quiet, electric second, no one else is here. Just me, just Juliette, and whatever this energy is flickering between us.
The reporter clicks her pen shut and offers me a quick, professional handshake. “All right, I’m out. This will be in tomorrow’s paper.”
Then she turns to Juliette with a warm smile. “Juliette, thank you so much for chatting with me earlier. We actually do a local business feature every month, and I’d really love to highlight Leaf & Letter next.”
Juliette straightens like someone just turned on a spotlight. “I would love that.”
“It comes with a full photo shoot,” the reporter adds. “Hope that’s okay.”
Juliette laughs, bright and a little disbelieving. “It’s fine. I can handle that. Thank you so much.”
“Perfect,” the reporter says. “I’ll be in touch.” She gives a last little wave and heads out the door.
The bell jingles, leaving us alone in a space of sun-warmed stillness.
