Page 40 of The One Who Saw Her: Boone

Vivi's chest felt like it had been slammed with a sledgehammer. She thought of him carrying grief like a second skin and it terrified her how much she wanted him to have joy in his life. How desperately she wanted to see him smile without guilt shadowing it. Perhaps that was what stung the most.

Spud didn't get to decide what Boone could feel, and yet here she was, feeling the ache of it as if it were hers too. Her fists clenched at her sides—not out of anger at Spud, but out of helplessness—because she wanted to protect Boone from the world, from its assumptions, and from anyone who dared say he couldn't have it all.

The conviction of it surprised her.

"You don't think people can feel both?" she asked.

"I couldn't, after my Louise died," he said quietly. "She was my first and second wife. I couldn't get past the grief. It took a decade before I could move on. Then I accidentally married her cousin. Looking back, it was because she reminded me of Louise. As soon as we figured out the connection, we annulled it. I'm still looking for that next Louise."

Vivi blinked at him, letting the story settle like a slow inhale. She couldn't stop thinking about what it must feel like to love someone so completely that even a decade of grief couldn't erase them. To hold onto a memory, a person, and still leave room for hope—still leave room for a next chance, a next Louise—without turning bitter or broken. Just patient in a way that made her eyes sting.

She thought about her own life and the walls she'd built so carefully. She felt a small, sharp stab of envy. That kind of love wasn't flashy or loud. It was quiet and stubborn in a relentless way that didn’t ask for attention, didn’t need to be seen—it just endured, long after everything else had started to fade. Somehow it felt like the kind of thing worth waiting for. Worth risking everything to recognize when it finally showed up.

"Why did you and Louise break up the first time?" she asked. "You don't have to answer if it's too personal."

"No, I like talking about her." Spud blew out a breath, hat tipping back as he looked at her. "Truth is, darlin', I didn't leave Louise because I stopped lovin' her. I left because I was young and scared and loved her so much it damn near scared me stupid. I'd just gotten the diagnosis. Doctor said the words heart and failure in the same sentence and all I could think was that I didn't want her hitchin' her whole life to a man who might not be around to see the tomatoes come in. So, I packed a bag and made it real clean, real final. Figured she'd hate me, but at least she'd move on."

He huffed a small, crooked laugh. "Turns out she's meaner than the Grim Reaper. Showed up on my porch a month later, read me my rights, shoved my ring back in my hand, and said she wasn't letting me die alone or live alone. So I married her again. Happiest mistake I ever corrected."

Vivi blinked fast, her throat tightening. "Spud, that's not running away. That's—" She paused, searching for the right word. "Soul deep fear."

He sniffed, waving a hand like feelings were a bothersome fly. "Well, I don't recommend it. Makes a man look real dumb in hindsight."

"Louise must have really loved you."

"Yeah," he said softly, eyes going shiny. "Lucky for me, she was stubborn as a mule with something to prove."

Vivi nudged his arm. "Sounds like you two were the real deal."

"Real deal, real messy, real ours." His eyes cut toward her gently. "Sometimes the people worth keeping stay even when you give 'em every excuse not to."

Vivi watched Spud's easy smile settle into the hum of the afternoon, and her chest ached a little. She wished—god how she wished—she'd had that kind of love. Messy, stubborn, till-the-end-of-times loyal. The kind that didn't blink when the world threatened to pull you under. And then, just as quickly, she told herself to stop wishing and start living.

If she wanted a love like that, she had to open herself up to actually receiving it. Maybe even let someone in without holding parts of herself back. The scary and vulnerable parts that had been crushed so many times before even the thought of sharing them made her palms sweat.

Spud jerked his chin toward her gypsy camp of bags filled with fundraiser supplies. "What's the clipboard for?"

"I'm looking for volunteers to help with the bunkhouse remodel," she said, her voice ringing with pride.

"The Callahan’s bunkhouse?"

"How did you know?” she asked then waved a dismissive hand. “Never mind. Anyway, we're looking for volunteers from the community to help with demo and you’re my second stop. They’ve done so much for this town, and I want to give the people of Bridlewood a chance to give something back."

"You know where you need to go? The bar."

"I could use a white wine spritzer."

"I was talking about the Summer Sunflower Spectacular meeting. The Bridlewood Regents are meeting to settle the last-minute plans for the big festival. Everyone you'll need to talk to will be there."

"At the Tipsy Cow?" she asked, referring to the bar she and Jo had gone after shopping. One would have thought by the look of abject horror on the old man’s face that she'd just admitted to killing Lassie. "What?"

"Today's Thursday, so it's Lottie's day."

"Who's Lottie?"

"Not only is she the activities director for the Bridlewood Regents, she owns the Drunken Rooster. And she's Dottie's twin."

"The owner of the Tipsy Cow?"