Page 111 of The One Who Saw Her: Boone

"What?"

"My aunt read it and then demanded I be a man who lives up to my family's promises and deserves the last name, Maddox."

She'd done this?

The words barely registered at first, his mind rebelling against the idea that Vivi—messy, stubborn, impossible Vivi—had somehow saved the ranch he thought was slipping through his fingers.

Gratitude and something like guilt slammed into him all at once. He'd blamed her for everything that went down, without realizing that she'd done it for his family and their land. She’d done it for him. Vivi, in her big, loud, loving way, had done what two generations of Callahans hadn't been able to do—she'd used love and kindness to save the ranch.

Heat surged in Boone's chest, frustration and guilt tangling into a tight, sharp coil. He wanted to shove Virgil aside, find Vivi and fix everything.

But Virgil didn't move. "I have the contract right here."

The shock should've knocked him on his ass. Instead, for the first time in weeks, everything felt damn simple. The ranch, the Callahan name, all the shit he'd spent his whole life protecting—none of it meant a fucking thing if protecting it cost him her.

Vivi was his future, the only legacy he gave a damn about, and the one thing he couldn't afford to lose.

Boone pushed the papers out of his way. "The contract can wait."

Boone shouldered his way through the crowd, muttering a few half-assed apologies when he clipped someone and none at all when they were too slow to get the hell out of his way. He had one goal, and she was standing on the other side of the damn square.

By the time he reached the front of the line, his patience was shot. And then he saw her.

Vivi stood behind the booth arranging pies, her blond hair catching the sun, completely oblivious to the fact that Boone had just pissed off half of Bridlewood getting to her.

Jesus, he'd missed her.

Missed her smile, her smart mouth and the way she could get under his skin without even trying.

Hell, he'd even missed being annoyed by her.

Her head turned and she saw him. Her eyes went wide and startled. They held a flicker of something that gutted him to see. Hurt. The kind of hurt only he could have left there.

Suddenly, all the arguments, all the mistakes, all the things he'd said to push her away crashed over him like a tidal wave. He wanted to fall to his knees and apologize for every single one of them.

"Vivi—" His voice broke before he could stop it. "You didn't leave town."

"No," she said, with a confidence that struck him. "I've decided to stay here in Bridlewood. I'm not going to let what happened between us change my plans."

"So, you're staying? For good?"

He couldn't believe what he was hearing. Maybe this meant he still had a chance to make things right. Maybe it meant that the universe was giving him a do-over.

Vivi wiped a stray tear from her cheek, took a steadying breath, and finally met his gaze fully.

"I'm staying," she said, her voice quiet but firm. "But not for you, Boone. I'm staying for me, for the life I want, for the choices I've decided I won't let anyone else make for me anymore."

He blinked, a rush of pride swelling in his chest, fierce and blinding. She was choosing herself, claiming her own ground, and he couldn't help but admire her for it. Every fiber of him wanted to cheer, to wrap her in his arms and never let go.

"And me?" he asked, almost hesitant. "Is there room for me in that world?"

Vivi shook her head—small and almost imperceptible—though her eyes softened. "I don't know, Boone. Maybe. But if so, we'll have to take it slow. I don't want to get lost in your world. I want to thrive in my own."

Boone's chest tightened, a mix of hope and dread battling it out. He wanted to argue, to beg, to tell her she had nothing to prove to herself if she still loved him. Instead, he said, "Then I'll wait. For however long it takes. Because no matter what, I'm not taking away your choices but I'm also not walking away from you. Not ever."

Vivi's lips curved faintly at that, a fragile, wary smile, and in that moment Boone felt both the weight of his fear and the dizzying possibility that, just maybe, she'd let him in again—on her terms, when she was ready.

"I'm so fucking sorry." His voice dropped low, rough with everything he'd been holding back. "I was afraid to love you because I was afraid I'd eventually lose you. But in the end, I chased you away."