Page 112 of Sugar & Shadows

Your mother is threatening to come to your house. I hid the car keys, but she knows I’m weak. I probably bought you an hour, tops.

Mellie Becker:

I predicted this!

Logan:

For the record, “carrying my child” was hot. Book boyfriend worthy.

Harper:

We’ve got fan edits! You’re internet famous.

As I scrolled, they continued to pour in.

Marigold:

Don’t fuck this up.

I stared at that one longer than the others. Because beneath the chaos and memes, this was what mattered.

I put my phone down and centered myself. None of that stuff mattered.

“I’m scared,” I admitted softly.

Sabrina looked up from her phone, her eyes red rimmed.

A rush of affection washed over me. She’d marched onto my family farm to yell at me in front of God and several thousand people on the internet.

That was probably the closest thing to trust she could offer me. For now.

And I owed it to her to figure this out.

“The way I left was… not ideal.”

She huffed out a laugh.

Okay, that was a start.

“This whole day…” She scanned the living room, her attention snagging on the piles of laundry, the unopened mail, and the empty coffee mugs. A wave of self-consciousness barreled into me.

“Sit,” I said, gesturing toward the couch.

Once she’d settled, I joined her, and the two of us stared straight ahead for a moment. But eventually she turned to me, gently touching my face.

“I really didn’t mean to hit you.”

Her fingertips ghosted over my eye, the gesture startlingly tender for someone who had almost knocked me out earlier.

“I know. But you should be proud,” I teased lightly. “You punch like a drunk Marine.”

She smirked. “I trained with an ex-Navy SEAL for a couple of years. He taught me self-defense.”

“He did a good job. Clearly.” I snorted, palpating my bruised flesh.

We went quiet again, letting the chaos of the day swirl around us. Outside, the sun was setting, bathing the living room in golden light.

“I’d say you don’t have to be involved. But I know you won’t accept that,” she mumbled.