ELLIE
Building bouquets is my favorite part of working at the flower shop. It gives my creative energy a place to live—just like the farm stand once did. That’s why I had the idea in the first place: to create something from a blank canvas, something that was wholly mine, poured full of vision and intention.
But too much is tied to that place now.
When I came back and saw it again, I didn’t feel that same spark I had when I first dreamed it up. Still, little by little, I’ve been spending more time there. I stepped in for Aspen a few times after returning, and in the beginning, it was hard. Now, when I think about it, though, it’s easier to be there than I expected. But I’ve grown comfortable at Petal Pusher.
The routine Sandy and I share just… works.
And lately, I’ve felt lighter.
It’s been about a week since Logan and I first hooked up. Maybe two since we got back from the trip. I’ve avoided Miles since then, to give myself time and space to gather my thoughts. I knew eventually I’d have to face that situation, but for now, peace felt good.
His car wasn’t in my spot anymore. His music wasn’t blaring through the walls. The clanging of tools wasn’t a constant reminder of tension.
Things felt still. I felt still. My thoughts, for once, were quiet.
I’ve spent a lot of time reflecting lately on everything that’s happened over the past year. Being with Logan has helped more than I’d ever expected. Some nights, we’d curl up on his couch, other nights he’d come over to mine, and whenever I needed to talk, he’d just… listen. He didn’t always have the right words, but he always made me feel like I had his full attention. That alone made all the difference.
I thought a lot about Buck too. About how he was my first love, how young I was, how raw it felt to be wanted like that for the first time. I gave him everything. And he took it all for granted.
But I know now not every first love ends in forever. Not everyone gets the kind of story Boone and Aspen have, and that’s okay.
Still, I couldn’t help but think about Rhodes.
If anyone knew heartbreak the way I did, it was him.
I’d been doing a lot more confronting than avoiding lately. And the idea of talking to Rhodes started to pull at me, just to see if he’d be willing to open up and maybe give me insight.
He was like another brother to me. We grew up together, and I always knew he’d have my back if I ever needed him. He was quiet about it, the silent protector type.
I was damn lucky to be surrounded by the kind of men who would step up for me, protect me without hesitation.
And now, I was curious.
How did Rhodes survive his heartbreak? What did it look like for him when the pieces didn’t fit back together? I hadn’t been around much during that time. I was too wrapped up in Buck to notice what went on.
I’d make a mental note to talk with him at some point.
With my body on autopilot, I slipped into my usual rhythm—building bouquets for tomorrow’s orders, stems in hand, thoughts drifting.
That was, until the bell above the door chimed.
My head jerked up, instinct tightening in my chest. The second I saw who it was, my face went hot.
Anxiety and anger churned in my gut like oil to water as he walked toward me—long strides, deliberate, confident.
I wanted to run. Desperately.
But he’d already seen me.
So instead, I did what I had to do. I straightened my spine, inhaled through my nose, and kept my voice as even as I could when I said, “What the hell do you want?”
He stopped in front of the counter, arms crossing over his chest like armor, like he expected the impact of my words.
“I wanted to talk to you,” he said, his voice softer than I remembered. Gentler.
But the last time we’d been in the same room, he hadn’t sounded gentle. He’d raised his voice—worse, he’d used the only thing he had over me: his physical strength.
