Page 157 of Sunrise & Serenity

She scrunches her face up. “The time’s gone too fast.”

Mabel’s is nice and cool, but outside, the sun glints off store windows and heats the sidewalk.

I’ll miss this. Spending time with Mia, talking about nothing important. Not having to worry about how I look or what kind of impression I’m making. Just being me.

My friend studies me over the rim of her soda. “Are you still thinking about Milan?”

I exhale carefully. “I should want it.”

“Should isn’t the same as do.”

“Yeah.” I roll my lips together. “I always had this vision of what my life was supposed to look like, you know?”

She nods.

“And Milan fits that version perfectly,” I admit. “It would bring attention to my work. It would get me commissions and open doors that I’ve always wanted to walk through.”

“But?”

I look out the window toward the blue-gray mountains rising close around the town, an emptiness seeping into me. “I don’t think I’ve asked myself whether that’s what will actually make me happy in a really long time.”

Her smile is gentle. “You’ve spent a long time chasing what everyone else told you success should look like.” She reaches out, squeezing my hand. “Have you thought about what you want for yourself now?”

I study my hands. “I’ve loved my work here more than anything I’ve done in years.”

She stays quiet, so I keep talking. “Not just the photography. The feeling behind it. Capturing the land and the people, the way it’s all intertwined.”

Her responding smile is faint. “You sound happier talking about photographing cattle than you ever did talking about Manhattan art openings.”

I press my hands to my face and groan.

She chuckles, but her expression softens quickly. “What does that mean? Are you considering staying?”

“I don’t know.” I blow out a breath. “I don’t know how that would work.”

She searches my face. “Sage, if you stay here, it can’t be because of Holden.”

Pain twists sharply through me at the mention of his name. In the days after he left, I’d finally told her everything. I cried in her arms for so long that she knows how much his leaving hurt me. I’m not surprised she’s concerned. “It wouldn’t be.”

I mean it. I love him, and maybe that’s been true longer than I realized. But loving him doesn’t change the fact that he made his choice. He left. I refuse to build a future on the hope that he’ll change his mind.

She worries her lip, her green eyes full of caution. “Do you think he’s coming back?”

“No.” Saying it out loud hollows me out. But beneath the pain is something else. Something that feels like it could heal my heartbreak if I let it. The ranch, the work, the people.

“And if he did?”

“It’d be awkward and horrible, but I’d survive it.”

“Then maybe it’s time to figure out what you want without factoring him, or anybody else, into it.”

I sigh. She’s right. I’ve spent the last few days circling the idea of staying here, unable to decide, and that’s because of Holden. But the truth is, whether he’s here or not, I want this life.

Eyes locked with hers, I say, “I don’t want New York anymore. And I don’t want Milan either.”

For the first time in years, I’m not chasing the version of success I’m supposed to want. I’m choosing a direction that actually fits me.

The realization feels both terrifying and strangely peaceful.