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“I just need a break,” I say, words spilling out. “Plus, this could be really good for you guys, like as a couple, to have the house to yourselves. And I could really use a change of scenery.”

Sabrina opens her mouth, and Coen takes her elbow and looks down, brows raised. They exchange a glance, which I’m not sure the meaning of, and she pops her lips closed.

“I’m not trying to avoid anyone,” I say firmly.

“No, no, I didn’t think so,” Coen says, shaking his head.

Sabrina comes out and leans on the counter, eyes thoughtful. “How long are you gonna stay?”

“A few weeks. Is that okay?”

She nods, with a hint of sadness. “If you feel like you need to go, you should go. It’s what you told me to do last year.”

It’s true, I did. Last year, when she barely knew Coen, he asked her to road-trip across the country to Nashville with him. She told him no, but I encouraged her to take a chance. And she did. I stayed home and took the brunt of Dad’s anger, the long sullen silences at dinner, the upset phone calls. It was rough.

He’s better now, but God, I kind of hated him last summer. Turns out, he just needed a change of scenery. We’ve all been cooped up too long on this ranch. And now, I need to spread my wings as well.

“You should go,” Coen says, arms crossed. “You want me to book a flight?”

“N0, Mom got me one at six in the morning tomorrow. Could…you maybe drop me off?”

“Sure, no problem.”

Nobody says anything for a minute. Then, Sabrina hugs me, and I squeeze my eyes shut tight. When she lets me go, she waves a hand in the air and starts making coffee, even though it’s a bit late for that. It’s a bit of a Maxwell family tradition to start making everyone a cup of coffee when any kind of tension arises.

“I’m not dying, guys,” I say finally.

They both laugh, the ice breaking.

“I know,” Sabrina says, handing me some coffee. “You all packed?”

That night, I can’t get any rest. Maybe it’s having to wait for my alarm to go off at three in the morning. Or it’s thinking about how I’m running away from Jamie. Yes, this is about a lot of things. But it’s also about not having to face him after I gave him my number and he never used it. That’s something I’ve turned over and over in my head, wondering why he didn’t even send me a text to acknowledge what happened.

He got on a plane and left.

Never said a word.

I sleep a little bit and wake up a few minutes before my alarm. My eyes are sticky, so I turn on the shower and steam up the room. My heart is thumping faster than usual. It’s been a long time since I woke up and felt…excited. Every day has looked the same for the last twenty-three years. But for the first time, it feels like that could change.

I get out and dress in something comfortable.

The face that looks back at me in the foggy mirror is unfamiliar. Once upon a time, I was a little girl climbing on a stool to reach this sink. Now, it’s almost two decades later, and here I am, still standing at this sink.

A tiny thought appears. A spark of apathy.

Maybe I come home after a few days. Maybe there’s a tiny chance I don’t.

I shake my head because that sounds ridiculous. Other people get to grab their bags and run. Not me, who barely sets foot off this ranch.

Downstairs, I roll my bag to the door just as Coen appears on the porch. The truck is running in the drive, exhaust fumes rattling into the dark. It’s warm, but I’m glad for my hoodie. The world feels strangely big and very empty.

Coen reaches for my bag.

“You ready to hit the road?” he asks.

I nod, following him onto the porch. My stomach tilts like a ship in a sea storm. At the bottom of the stairs, I turn to look back at the ranch house for a second, not long enough for Coen to notice. I consider what it would feel like if I didn’t return, but I can’t even visualize it.

No, I shouldn’t push my luck.