Nineteen Sunny
The storm hit like nothing I’d ever seen. One moment, I was in the old barn checking on the calves, and the next, chaos erupted. Levi’s house wasn’t far, but in that moment, it might as well have been miles away. The rain poured in thick, relentless sheets, blinding me to everything beyond a few feet. The wind roared through the barn, and the groaning wood made it clear I wasn’t safe.
I tried to leave, but the storm had other plans. So I ran back inside, my heart pounding.
The calves were panicking, their hooves striking the floor, their eyes wide with fear as the storm rattled the barn. There wasn’t time to think—just pure adrenaline. I climbed into their pen, huddling with them, hoping the high fences might act as some kind of shield.
And then, it happened.
The sound of the barn collapsing was deafening. Wood splintered. Metal screamed. I held my breath as the world fell apart around us. For a moment, I was sure this was it.
But somehow, the pen held. The fences, reinforced and solid, stood firm against the destruction. I sat there, trembling, as debris crashed down around us. Miraculously, not a single scratch marred me or the calves. It felt like a bubble of protection had formed, shielding us from the storm’s fury.
When Levi found me, it felt like hours had passed. I heard him before I saw him—his voice shouting my name, cutting through the storm. Then he was there, tearing through the wreckage, soaked to the bone, his eyes wild with panic.
The second his arms wrapped around me, I felt a rush of relief so overwhelming it brought me to tears. His grip was tight, unyielding, as if he couldn’t believe I was real. His body shook, his breath ragged, and when he finally pulled back to look at me, the raw fear in his eyes said everything he didn’t.
Since that night, Levi hasn’t left my side for long. He’s been here, steadfast, only stepping away to repair the barn and ensure the calves were cared for. But the storm isn’t the only thing weighing on me.
It’s the thought of leaving.
Every day, the weight of it presses down a little harder, like an invisible force I can’t fight. In just a few days, I’ll have to go back to the city. Back to my classes, back to a life that now feels like it belongs to someone else. I worked so hard to get there, to build a future, but now I don’t know how to leave Levi. How to leave this place that feels like home.
I force myself to focus on the horse I’m working with, but my mind drifts. The thought of waking up in the city, surrounded by noise and concrete instead of Levi, instead of the open skies and quiet that have become my world—it’s unbearable.
My phone buzzes in my pocket, snapping me out of my thoughts. Levi’s name lights up the screen.
Levi: Meet me at the old barn, Sunshine.
I don’t hesitate. I toss the halter over the fence and head for my truck, my heart racing. The drive feels longer than it should, my chest tight with everything I haven’t said. Everything I’m too scared to face.
When the barn comes into view, it’s like seeing a phoenix rise from the ashes. Levi and the crew have been working tirelessly to rebuild it, and now it stands strong and proud against the landscape.
I park and step out of the truck, the scent of fresh wood and hay filling the air. Inside, tools clink, and sunlight streams through the open doors.
My gaze locks on Levi immediately—shirt off, his muscles flexing as he secures a fence post. He’s poured himself into this project, but I know it’s more than rebuilding a barn. It’s his way of holding everything together.
I walk up behind him, wrapping my arms around his waist. The second I touch him, I feel his tension melt. His shoulders relax, and he lets out a deep breath.
“Hey,”
I whisper, pressing a kiss to the warm skin between his shoulder blades. “You’ve been busy.”
He chuckles, the sound low and comforting. “You could say that. We’re almost done. Calves will be back by the weekend.”
I don’t respond right away, just holding him tighter. The weight of what I’m feeling grows heavier, and I know I can’t keep it in much longer.
Levi turns in my arms, his eyes searching mine.
“What’s going on?”
he asks, his voice steady but firm. “Talk to me, sugar.”
I drop my gaze, gathering the courage to speak.
“I don’t know,”
I start, my voice barely above a whisper. “It’s just... the day we have to leave is coming, and I’m not ready. I don’t want to go.”
His expression softens, but there’s a flicker of pain in his eyes. He takes a deep breath, his hands steadying on my waist.
“I know, baby. But you’ve got school. You’ve worked so hard for this.”
“I know,”
I say, swallowing hard. “But it feels like I’m leaving everything that matters. This place, you... us.”
Levi’s jaw tightens, the conflict written all over his face. I know he’s trying to be strong for me, but I can see the struggle.
“We’ll figure it out,”
he says after a moment, his voice rough with unspoken emotion.
“Whatever it takes, we’ll make it work.”
I want to believe him, but the thought of leaving feels like tearing myself in two.
I lean back against one of the fence posts, Levi standing in front of me. His thumb brushes against my hip, grounding me, but the tension between us is palpable.
“I don’t want to go back to the way things were,”
I say, the words tumbling out before I can stop them. “Before this. Before you.”
Levi’s hands tighten on my waist, his forehead dropping to rest against mine.
“I don’t want to go back to that either,”
he admits, his voice low.
“But you’re not losing me, Sunshine. Not now, not ever.”
His words wrap around me like a lifeline, but the ache in my chest remains. For now, though, I let him hold me. Let him carry some of the weight I’ve been shouldering.
Together, we stand in the barn, the fresh wood around us a symbol of resilience, of rebuilding. And I pray that somehow, some way, we’ll find a way to weather what’s coming—together.