Page 68 of Where She Belongs

She could already sense the agony that would follow from a fall like that, however figurative. Tate was wound tighter than she’d ever seen him. Between his obsessive need to protect the town, his family, and everyone else in his life, he had little left to protect himself and she didn’t want to see him burn out.

Then there was the fight.

It wasn’t big by any means. Just some words spoken in anger, but they’d struck a chord with her so deep that scars had been ripped open.

Rylee didn’t belong in Rocky Ridge any more than she felt she belonged in New York. Even though she’d spent most of her childhood in the small town, people didn’t remember her. Not many of them, anyway. It didn’t matter that she’d been getting comfortable here. That sense of safety had gone out the window with one sentence from Tate.

She glanced around her farmhouse and all the adjustments she’d made. The updates, the new furniture, and everything in between. As much as she wanted to believe she’d eventually adapt to the country again, she wasn’t sure she ever would. There would always be that nagging voice in her head telling her that she didn’t quite fit in. Her accent. The clothes she wore. Even the underlying desire to wear makeup for a trip to the grocery store.

Slumping down on the couch, she put her head in her hands. Roxy had mentioned selling this place and at first Rylee had fought it.

Hard.

Now, she wasn’t so sure she should stay. And selling made the most sense.

That would mean finding homes for the animals currently living on the property along with going through the remainder of the boxes her father had left in the attic.

She’d found a box full of papers, mostly handwritten, alongside some journals. The courage to go through it slipped away mere moments after she’d opened it.

A knock sounded at the door and her head lifted. It had been a couple days since she’d heard from Tate. At this point, she wasn’t sure he wanted to see her ever again. Heck, she didn’t even know if what they had was official or if they were exclusive. How bad was that? And she wasn’t about to call him up to ask him.

Was he the one at the door? It was late and she couldn’t imagine anyone else randomly stopping by so close to bedtime. Maybe he’d come to apologize and talk things through. Her heart picked up as she went toward the door, and a small ray of hope burst in her. She opened the door without looking through the spy hole, a small smile on her lips that immediately melted away into confusion.

“Aunt Roxy?”

Her aunt stood in all her glory, hands on her hips, wearing a bright pink and purple pantsuit. “Are you going to keep gawking at me, dear, or let me in?”

Rylee startled and stepped to the side, motioning for her aunt to come inside. That was when she saw the taxi driver pulling her aunt’s bags from the back of his cab. She tossed a shocked look over her shoulder at her aunt then hurried down the steps to gather the luggage.

When she had everything inside, she found her aunt scrutinizing the freshly painted living room. Rylee couldn’t help but hold her breath. Roxy’s opinion had always mattered to Rylee and if her aunt had even one disparaging thing to say, Rylee wasn’t sure what she’d do. She had enough on her mind already.

When Roxy didn’t immediately say anything, Rylee moved closer. “Pardon my curiosity, but… what are you doing here?”

Roxy huffed a laugh and waved a hand in her direction. “Can’t your favorite aunt come visit?”

“Of course, but⁠—”

“Besides, the last time we were on the phone, you seemed like…” She cocked her head for a moment then sighed. Rylee had never seen her aunt seem this down to earth before. She twirled her hand through the air. “You seemed like you needed help. That’s all.”

Rylee had nothing to say to that. Aunt Roxy had been the fun aunt. She’d been the spontaneous one. Her husband had been the one to remind them both that there was a time and place for eccentricities. And while he won that argument most of the time, there was no taming his wife.

Roxy smiled softly. “I’m fully aware that I never said it enough, but it’s okay to ask for help. It’s okay to be a grown up sometimes.” She glanced around the space again. “I like what you’ve done with your father’s place. He would have been so proud of you.”

Tears pricked at Rylee’s eyes. She hadn’t known just how much she’d needed to hear that until this moment. She didn’t cry often in front of people—or at least she tried not to. Especially not around her aunt. It had been something she’d trained out of herself after the emotional break of losing her father.

Roxy had taught her to be grateful for every breath. Every ray of sunshine that warmed her face. She’d taught her to appreciate everything she had because nothing was ever promised. But right now, as she attempted to fight the emotion roiling within her, she couldn’t stop it.

A single tear tracked down her cheek, but it was followed by another and another. She couldn’t wipe at them fast enough. As soon as Roxy enveloped her in her arms, Rylee knew she was a goner. She allowed herself to sob for everything she’d lost over the years. For the insecurities and the sense of belonging she’d never quite had.

When she was all cried out, her aunt pulled away with wet cheeks of her own. “I brought another letter for you. From your father.”

Rylee’s brows creased. “Wait, I thought you were going to mail it.”

Roxy shrugged. “I figured I’d save on postage when I decided I needed to pay you a visit. It’s packed away in my things, but remind me and I’ll find it for you.” She jerked her chin toward the couch. “How about we take a seat?”

That sounded more ominous than it should. Rylee nearly refused, nearly claimed she was too tired to have a discussion with her aunt. But after Roxy had come all this way, she didn’t really feel as though she had a choice. So she nodded and shuffled her way to the couch.

The second she sat down, she grabbed the throw that was draped across the back of the couch and wrapped it around herself. It wasn’t cold. But she needed the added comfort.