Page 105 of The One Who Saw Her: Boone

"Apparently you."

"I want to prove to myself I can do it."

"So, you want Boone and your own set of house keys."

"Exactly." Vivi pressed on. "I want to take that pottery class at the community center. I've always wanted to try it and I'm not waiting for someone to go with me."

"Boone doesn't strike me as a spin-the-wheel man unless it's attached to a tractor."

"I want to start saving up to open a small office in town for my business. Not in the bunkhouse and not in his space, but in mine."

Jo nodded hard. "A woman needs a room of her own. Sometimes with a door she can slam dramatically."

"I want to plan a solo trip somewhere I've never been. Just me, a backpack, and terrible cell service."

"Make sure there's alcohol."

"And," Vivi added softly. "I want to restart my morning runs. That's my time. That's where I think and decompress. And I’m going to do it even if Boone wants me to stay in bed."

"He can survive an hour without you. Keep running."

"And I don't want to lose myself. I've done it before. I want him. But I want me too."

Jo hopped off the counter and clinked her beer bottle against Vivi's mixing spoon. "Then do exactly that. You keep your hobbies, your business, your sanity. You let Boone be the lucky man who gets to orbit Planet Vivi. You do not get absorbed into Planet Boone like some lovesick little moon. Are we clear?"

Vivi saluted.

"Boone doesn't have to be the whole story," Jo said. "Just your favorite chapter."

Vivi smiled. "Exactly."

CHAPTER 41

Vivi carefully lifted the last golden peach pie from the oven, the buttery scent curling around her like a warm hug and, for a fleeting second, she allowed herself to drift. She imagined Boone standing behind her, arms wrapped around her waist, his body close, his rare laugh—the one that always made her chest ache.

The thought of him and his easy confidence. The way he saw her in all her messiness and still loved her made her smile despite the peach filling sticking to her hands. She pictured lazy Sunday mornings and stolen kisses in the barn. In that little daydream, everything was simple, everything was hers, and everything felt right.

She set the pie on the cooling rack, closing her eyes for a second to savor it.

The sound of the back door slamming on its hinges and rattling cabinets made her jump.

She whipped around expecting a loose bull in the kitchen and found Boone. His boots pounded across the floor, and Vivi froze mid-breath. His face was a dark, almost violent mix of fury and ache, his eyes blazing as if he could burn through the walls themselves.

"Vivi." His voice was low and controlled. Not a bellow, but something worse. He held up the letter. Didn't wave it or throw it, he just held it between them like evidence. "Did you send this?"

Her stomach dropped straight through the floor.

"Did you send it?" he repeated, and this time the control cracked—just slightly but enough for her to hear everything beneath it.

"I was trying to help," she managed, her voice already unsteady. "I thought⁠—"

"You thought, what?" He set the letter on the counter between them, like he didn't trust his own hands with it anymore. "You went behind my back."

"When I sent it, I thought I was helping."

"Well, you didn’t. You fucked everything I was working for and I'm not just talking about the letter. At this point I don't even care about the letter. I care that you looked me in the eye, heard me tell you where the line was and you crossed it anyway. Without a word. Without asking or trusting me to handle my own business."

The words hit her like a physical thing.