Page 6 of Falling Back to You

“Of course.” Noelle was on my brain, and it was throwing me off my game. The woman I shouldn’t want was the woman I couldn’t forget.

Juliet arched an eyebrow. “Was it too much?”

“Nope.” I popped the p.

She snorted. “Liar.” Her tone softened. Well, soft for her. “I’m sorry for how that came out. Any woman would be lucky to have you. Truly.”

I shrugged. Juliet could be severely blunt—hazards of having five overprotective older brothers—but she was quick to apologize when she went too far. But I wasn’t in the mood for dissecting my love life (or lack of one), so I pivoted the subject. “Maybe once Khia’s a bit older, I can refocus on the dating game. For now, what do you recommend about the nanny situation?”

She didn’t call me out for avoiding the topic. Although Myles’s eyebrow twitch in the rearview mirror told me we’d be talking about that later, too. “Keep looking I suppose. Is there no one else you can think to ask?”

I did a quick mental inventory of our tight-knit small town. Ruby was great in a pinch, but I knew she didn’t want to nanny full time when she had her sights set on a photographer career in Spokane with Juliet’s best friend, Stephanie.

“It’ll work out,” I said simply.

Myles and Juliet exchanged a quick look that said a thousand things, and that annoying tug in my chest returned. I’d seen my parents do it all my life, and the pulsing ache in my heart reminded me of how Noelle and I used to do it, too. A simple connection, saying everything without saying anything at all.

I thought I knew her.

No time for sentimentality. I slipped in my earbuds and navigated to a playlist that wasn’t primarily made up of Disney songs and “Baby Shark.” But I immediately regretted my choice when a One Direction song started playing. The last thing I needed was a couple love-infatuated teens singing about love.

When you were that age, you were clueless and had no business giving life advice—especially while wearing skinny jeans.

Growling, I hit the skip button, and the electric guitar twang of Relient K’s “Be My Escape” flooded my ears. Perfect.

Focus. Head down. Win the game.

And I let the music drown out my concerns.

Chapter two

Noelle

Was there a phobia for being afraid to return to your hometown? If so, I had it.

Parked on the shoulder of the turnoff leading into town, I stared at the peeling sunset-orange lettering on the otherwise mint green sign, reading: Welcome to Serenity Springs. I was a bull rider in the arena. One wrong move and the town would chase me out with pitchforks and burn me in effigy.

Okay, maybe that was too many mixed metaphors.

But the prodigal daughter was returning, and I guarantee you no one would be slaughtering the fattened calf in my honour.

God, you got me this far. But is this really necessary? It wasn’t the first time I’d asked that, and I doubted it’d be the last. Returning to the small town I’d grown up in after thirteen years in the hustle and bustle of New York City hadn’t been my Plan B—or even Plans C or D—after losing my nursing job thanks to a car accident last year. Yet here I was.

Jobless and homeless, returning home in a dumpster fire of glory to Serenity Springs, Idaho—a regular Mayberry with one stoplight and where your business was never private for long.

“It’s quaint,” Macy said brightly over video chat where she was propped up on my dash, looking out the windshield. “And you picked a nice spot to have an identity crisis. I checked and there’s only one Serenity Springs in the country. Unlike Springfield. Did you know there are forty-one in the entire US?” She pursed her lips, playing with her dangly pineapple earrings. “I feel like the creative team could have brainstormed a bit better.”

I laughed and flipped the camera to face me. Macy Davenport was my best friend—the one who never left my side when my world turned upside down. We’d met in college during my first year of nursing school while she was in the dental hygienes program. After we graduated, we’d been roommates, and she always had a random fact to share. In her own words, she was the queen of useless trivia. But the distraction made me feel better. Her special brand of bubbliness eased the tension in my shoulders a fraction. Facing scary things was always easier with a friend at your side to talk you off the edge of panicking.

“You good, Elle? You’re looking a bit green, and it’s not a good colour on you, chica.”

I groaned, head dropping against the headrest. I rubbed my thumb over my faded sweatpants, trying to ease the sharp nerve pain in my left thigh. Despite my dash reading the temperature as the high sixties, I was breaking a sweat just sitting here. “Not really.”

Macy was quiet for a moment as she wrangled her gorgeous jet-black hair into a messy bun. “I know you’ve prayed about this, and God gave you the green light. I’m proud of you; I really am. It’s a special kind of bravery, coming back to your hometown.”

Bravery or foolishness? Time would tell.

“Just remember: You’re more than the mistakes you made, Elle.”