Chapter 13
CHAPTER 13
D eb sat up in bed, staring at her phone as she re-read Emily’s message for what had to be the tenth time.
Hunter’s beside himself over the baby, it read. He’s going to help me at the Feed Mill today, so no need for you to come in. Take the day. Love you!
With a heavy sigh, Deb let the phone drop onto the bed beside her. She leaned back on her hands, her eyes drifting around the quiet, still room. It felt too still—like the silence had weight. She was so happy for her sister, and yet, as she sat alone in her big house, she was lonely.
There was a time when she truly believed she had someone...someone who saw her, chose her, loved her. But that illusion had been nothing more than a beautifully crafted lie. It hadn’t just nearly destroyed her. Who was she kidding? It had destroyed her.
No one, not even her sister, had known about him. She’d kept the relationship hidden, tucked away like some dark, precious secret because he had asked her to. Wanted her all to himself, he’d said. At the time, it had sounded romantic. Knowing what she knew now, it just sounded manipulative. Controlling. Cruel.
God, she had been such a fool.
The shame of it, the betrayal, had festered inside her, twisting into something sharp and bitter. Instead of facing the truth, she’d buried it deep and let it turn to anger. And that anger? She’d lashed out with it. At friends. At family. At anyone who seemed happy or whole because it reminded her of what she’d never really had in the first place.
She had become an expert at pretending she was fine while resenting everyone who actually was. He had ruined her, and she had let him.
Swiping a lone tear that escaped, she cursed. She was exhausted—bone-deep tired—and so damn lonely it physically hurt. The kind of ache that settled into her chest and refused to let go. Her entire night had been spent tossing and turning with a fair amount of muttered cursing.
Her mind kept circling back to the strange, unexpected conversation with Brock last night. Over and over, it replayed in fragments—his words, his tone, the intensity in his eyes. But it wasn’t just what he said that had shaken her.
It was the way he looked at her.
Like he saw something in her that she wasn’t sure existed anymore, something she'd long since buried beneath disappointment, fear, and carefully constructed walls. That look had stirred something inside her she hadn’t felt in a long time.
It left her confused. Unsteady. Vulnerable.
And then he’d asked her to have dinner with him. Just a simple question, but it hit her like a punch to the chest. She froze. Not because she didn’t want to say yes. But because some part of her did. And that terrified her even more.
As if he could sense the silent war raging inside her, Brock had backed off just enough—shifting from a one-on-one dinner to a more casual lunch with his sister and Ben included. It was a smart move, and she hated that it worked.
She agreed, but only because he promised to stop asking Hunter questions about her. That had been her line in the sand.
Because the truth was, the idea of Brock digging into her past—especially through Hunter—made her stomach twist. She didn’t want anyone, least of all a man like Brock, poking around in pieces of her she wasn’t ready to share. Not yet. Maybe not ever.
Her relationship with Hunter wasn’t exactly strained, but it wasn’t close either. There was too much unsaid between them. Too much damage she’d caused. She’d pushed both him and Emily away when they hadn’t deserved it, using her pain like armor and her anger like a weapon. And even though they never threw it back in her face, the guilt still sat heavily on her chest. So, if anyone was going to tell her story, it was going to be her.
With a heavy sigh, Deb slowly pushed the covers aside and climbed out of bed, her body aching with exhaustion. She padded toward the shower, but her gaze paused, drifting over the familiar walls of the old house—hers and Emily’s childhood home.
Every creak in the floorboards, every chip in the paint, held a memory. Some good. Some she’d rather forget. Maybe it was time to let it go.
The thought came quietly, but it had been lingering for a while now. Maybe she should just sell the place. Walk away. Move somewhere new—somewhere quiet. A small town where no one knew her name, her past, or the mistakes she carried like shadows. A fresh start. A clean slate.
Emily didn’t want the house. She’d made that clear. If Deb sold it, she’d split the money with her sister and buy something simple, something hers. Somewhere she could finally breathe.
It would be the easy fix. Safe. Detached.
But it would also mean giving up something else. She wouldn’t get to be the kind of aunt she dreamed of being. She’d miss the milestones, the laughter, the little everyday moments that turn into memories. She’d be a name on a card. A voice on the phone. Not the steady presence she wanted to be, and for all her talk of escape, that thought hurt more than staying ever had.
Brock’s words from last night echoed in her mind, refusing to fade.
“Never took you for a coward.”
She clenched her jaw. She wasn’t a coward. Far from it. If she were, she would’ve packed up and left Lee County years ago, disappeared into a new life where no one knew her name or her past. But she hadn’t. She stayed. Faced the whispers. Endured the weight of her own choices.
Grabbing a towel from the hook, she walked into the bathroom and turned on the shower. As the water heated, she caught sight of herself in the mirror and paused.
Dark circles beneath her eyes, tension etched into the lines around her mouth, and that familiar flicker of doubt just beneath the surface.
She stared at her reflection for a long moment before squaring her shoulders.
“I’m not a coward,” she said firmly, meeting her own gaze. “I’m not.”
Saying it out loud didn’t make it true. But it felt like a step. A start. A small defiance against the part of her that still wanted to run, and maybe it was enough for today.
She would show up for lunch today—no more what-ifs. If Brock didn’t care that Linda might come for him because of it, then that was on him. He seemed capable of handling himself—and Linda.
Still, she knew it wasn’t that simple.
She and Linda had a history. There was bad blood between them now, and both of them knew it wouldn’t take much to bring it boiling to the surface. Once she stood against Linda, that had been the end of their so-called friendship.
Deb clenched her jaw. If it came down to it, she wouldn’t just sit back and let Linda do what Linda does best—tear people apart for sport. Especially not Brock’s sister or that sweet little boy, Ben. Deb wasn’t lying when she said that was precisely what Linda would do. She knew her well.
It was a small town, and word spread fast. Too fast. And Deb knew better than anyone how quickly whispers could turn into wildfire.
Once Linda found out she was having lunch with Brock and his family, it would be on. No question. Linda didn’t like to lose, especially when it came to something—or someone—she believed belonged to her.
What Linda wanted, Linda usually got.
Or so she thought.
Deb stepped into the shower, letting the hot water stream over her skin, chasing away the chill that had settled in her bones. Steam filled the room, curling around her like a shield, and for the first time in a long while, she didn’t feel like retreating.
She wasn’t sure what exactly she felt for Brock—couldn’t quite name it—but there was definitely something. And whatever it was, it scared the hell out of her.
And, if she was being honest, it excited her too.
She’d sworn off men. Closed that chapter, slammed the door, and bolted it shut. But Brock… Brock was different.
Maybe it was because he was still a stranger in so many ways. He didn’t know her past. He hadn’t seen the broken, messy parts she tried to hide from everyone else. To him, she wasn’t the woman with baggage or scars—she was just Deb.
That made things feel easier. And so much more dangerous. Because the moment he did learn the truth— all of it—things might change. They always did.
Until she knew for sure how he felt, until she was certain he wouldn’t run the second her past caught up with her, she had no choice but to guard her heart or at least what was left of it.
She couldn’t afford to fall too hard, too fast. Not again. But damn it… it was already starting to feel like a losing battle.