Chapter 13ETHAN
CHAPTER 13
ETHAN
M ia’s sitting at my kitchen counter, scrolling on her phone and occasionally glancing at me. I’ve been pacing for the last twenty minutes but I can’t stop. My chest feels like it’s caving in, the weight of everything with Riley pressing down harder and harder.
“All right, enough,” Mia says finally, setting her phone down with a loud clatter. “Ethan, you’re going to wear a hole in the floor. What’s going on?”
I stop mid-step and look at her, the words caught in my throat. She raises an eyebrow, crossing her arms like she’s not letting me out of this.
“It’s Riley,” I say finally, sinking into the chair across from her.
“Of course, it’s Riley,” Mia replies, her tone knowing. “What happened this time? ”
“I ruined everything,” I admit, running a hand through my hair. “She won’t talk to me. Won’t even look at me. And I don’t blame her.”
Mia tilts her head, her expression softening slightly. “What did you do?”
I let out a long breath, staring at the table. “It’s not what I did—it’s what she thinks I did. She saw Georgia when she was in town, and now she thinks I’m not serious about staying here. That I’m just playing around.”
Mia’s silent for a moment, her eyes narrowing thoughtfully. “Did you explain it to her? Did you let her know you and Georgia have been friends for years and there’s nothing going on there?”
“I tried,” I say, shaking my head. “She doesn’t believe me. And honestly, I don’t think words are going to fix this.”
I thought giving her some space could make the situation better but it seems like I just made things worse.
Mia leans forward, resting her chin on her hands. “Okay, so what’s your plan?”
“I don’t have one,” I admit, my voice sharper than I intend. “And it’s driving me insane. I can’t just sit here and wait for her to forgive me. I need to do something. Something big. Something that shows her I’m not going anywhere.”
Mia studies me for a moment, then smirks. “All right, let’s think. What’s important to Riley? What’s something that would mean the world to her?”
I pause, my mind racing through every conversation I’ve had with Riley, trying to find the answer. And then it hits me.
“The hardware store,” I say slowly.
Mia’s eyebrows lift. “The store?”
“Yeah,” I reply, sitting up straighter. “She’s always working on it, always trying to improve it. It’s her whole life—her parents left it to her, and she’s been running it ever since.”
Mia nods, her smirk widening. “Okay, go on.”
“It’s not just a store for her,” I say, leaning forward, my hands gripping the edge of the table. “It’s her connection to her parents, to this town, to everything she’s worked for. It’s like every nail, every board in that place holds a piece of her.”
Her brows draw together in thought. “What are you thinking?”
I grab a pen and paper, my mind spinning with possibilities. “She mentioned once that she wanted to turn part of it into a community workshop—a place where people could come and learn how to use tools, fix things, maybe even build something of their own. But she said she couldn’t afford to make it happen.”
Mia’s grin grows. “Now you’re talking.”
“I could rally the town,” I say, the idea forming in my head. “Get people to pitch in—supplies, time, whatever they can give. We could build the workshop for her, make it exactly how she’s always imagined. ”
Mia doesn’t even bother hiding her smirk as I finish explaining my plan. “So let me get this straight,” she says, leaning back in her chair. “You want to turn Riley’s store into a full-on community workshop, and you think she won’t notice us renovating the place she’s at literally every single day?”
I sigh, dragging a hand through my hair. “That’s why I need your help—and Dotty’s. Riley can’t know. If she finds out, she’ll try to take over, and this is supposed to be a surprise.”
Mia laughs, shaking her head. “You realize you’re asking me to distract the most stubborn woman in Bardstown, right?”
“I’m asking you to help me fix what I broke,” I say, my voice softer now. “Please, Mia. I need this to work.”
She tilts her head, her smirk fading as she studies me. “All right,” she says after a beat. “I’ll call Dotty. Between the two of us, we’ll figure something out.”
T he next morning, I find myself standing in Dotty’s kitchen, explaining the whole thing again while she stirs a pot of oatmeal. She listens quietly, her expression thoughtful as I lay out my plan.
When I finish, she sets the spoon down and turns to face me, her lips twitching into a small smile. “You’re serious about this, aren’t you?”
I nod, but my chest tightens. “I just… I don’t know if it’ll be enough. Riley’s been hurt before, and I’m te rrified that I’m going to screw this up and push her further away. I messed up, Dotty. Riley’s been through enough, and the last thing I want is to hurt her more. I need her to see that I’m here for the long haul—that she can trust me.”
Dotty nods slowly, crossing her arms. “It’s a good plan, Ethan. But keeping Riley away from that store is going to be a challenge.”
“I know,” I admit. “That’s why I need you and Mia. If anyone can keep her distracted, it’s you two.”
Dotty smiles, her eyes sparkling with mischief. “Oh, I’m sure we can come up with something.”
Two days later, I watch Mia and Dotty put their plan into action a few feet away from the store while I wait for their signal to get started. I hear Dotty tell Riley they need a girls’ day—shopping, lunch, and a stop at the garden center. Riley resists at first, of course.
“I’ve got too much to do at the store,” she says, frowning as Dotty waves off her protest.
“Honey, the store will still be there tomorrow,” Dotty says firmly.
“You’ve been working yourself ragged, and you deserve a break. Besides, when’s the last time you spent a day with your favorite aunt?”
After a bit more coaxing—and Dotty’s promise to keep the day short—Riley finally agrees.
As soon as they’re out of sight, I step into the store with Frank and the first group of volunteers .
The back room of the hardware store is cluttered, but the bones are there—the perfect space for the workshop Riley once mentioned. We start by clearing out the old shelves and equipment, hauling everything out to the parking lot so we can make room for the new setup.
Frank supervises, his booming voice keeping everyone on track. Mrs. Harriet drops off more cookies than we know what to do with, and the butcher brings in extra lumber, just like he promised.
The energy is contagious, and for the first time in days, I feel like I’m actually doing something right.
As I help install the first set of workbenches, I think back to what Riley said the night she told me about her parents.
“They taught me everything I know about this place,” she’d said, her voice full of quiet pride. “I just wish I could share that with other people. It’s not just a store—it’s a way to help the community.”
That’s what this is about. Not just fixing what I broke, but giving her the chance to make her dream a reality.
By sunset, we’ve made real progress. The walls are freshly painted, the new workbenches are installed, and Frank is working on the shelving units. The place already looks completely different, and the volunteers are buzzing with excitement.
“This is going to blow her away,” Frank says, wiping his hands on a rag.
I nod, my chest tight with anticipation. “ I hope so.”
“It’s a great idea, Ethan. Riley does so much for us. This is also our way of letting her know we appreciate her,” Frank adds.
His words warm my heart. In that moment, I know there’s no way I’m leaving Bardstown. Leaving Riley. This place, these people—they’ve rooted themselves in me in a way I never expected.
I nod again, this time with more certainty, my chest still tight but now with something closer to hope. “Yeah,” I say quietly. “It is a great idea.”
T he store smells like fresh paint and sawdust, and the hum of activity fills the air as we sort out the final touches. Frank is installing the last shelf, Harriet is dusting off the new workbenches, and I’m double-checking the layout against the sketches we put together.
It’s all coming together, and for the first time in days, I let myself breathe a little easier. Riley’s going to love this.
Or at least, that’s what I keep telling myself.
My phone buzzes in my pocket, pulling me from my thoughts. I glance at the screen and see Mia’s name. I answer quickly, my stomach tightening.
“What’s up?” I ask, already bracing for something.
“Ethan, we’ve got a problem,” Mia says, her voice urgent.
“What kind of problem? ”
“The Riley kind,” she replies. “Dotty and I couldn’t stall her anymore. She’s on her way to the store now.”
My heart drops. “Now? How far is she?”
“Ten minutes, max,” Mia says. “We tried everything, but you know Riley—when she decides to do something, there’s no stopping her.”
I mutter a curse under my breath, glancing around the store. “Okay. We’ll figure it out.”
“You’d better,” Mia says. “Good luck!”
The call ends, and I turn to Frank, who’s already watching me with raised eyebrows. “What’s wrong?”
“Riley’s on her way,” I say, my voice tight.
The room goes still as everyone freezes. Frank lets out a low whistle. “Well, that’s not good.”
“We need to clean this up,” I say, running a hand through my hair. “Now. We can’t let her see this yet.”
Mrs. Harriet looks at me like I’ve lost my mind. “Ethan, we’ve got paint cans, tools, and half a dozen people in here. How exactly do you plan on hiding all this in ten minutes?”
I stare at her, my mind racing. “We… we’ll figure it out. Just start moving everything to the back room. Quickly.”
The volunteers spring into action, gathering supplies and clearing the floor as fast as they can. I grab a stack of boxes and haul them toward the back, my pulse pounding in my ears.
But no matter how fast we move, it’s not fast enough.
The bell above the front door jingles, and I freeze.
“Hello?” Riley’s voice calls out, sharp and questioning.
I turn slowly, my heart hammering as she steps inside. She stops dead in her tracks, her eyes widening as she takes in the half-finished renovations, the scattered tools, and the group of volunteers staring at her like deer caught in headlights.
“What is this?” she asks, her voice low and dangerous.
No one answers. Frank clears his throat awkwardly, but no one moves.
The look in her eyes makes my chest tighten—anger, confusion, and something else I can’t quite place. I swallow hard, knowing I’ve got one chance to get this right.
“It’s… a surprise,” I say, forcing my voice steady even though my heart is racing. “Something for you.”
Her gaze locks on me, and the weight of her stare makes it hard to breathe. “Ethan,” she says, her voice trembling slightly. “What’s going on?”
For a moment, I can’t speak. The sight of her—so close, so hurt—ties my tongue in knots. But I force myself to step forward, meeting her eyes.
“Riley,” I start, my voice unsteady. “I can explain.”
She folds her arms, her jaw tightening. “Then explain.”
I glance around at the volunteers, who are trying very hard to look busy and failing miserably. “Could we… talk privately? ”
She hesitates, her eyes narrowing slightly. But after a moment, she nods and steps toward the back room.
The second the door closes behind us, she rounds on me. “What is all this, Ethan? Why are all these people in my store? What are you doing?”
“I’m trying to fix things,” I say quickly, my words tumbling out. “After everything that happened, I wanted to show you that I’m serious. That I’m not going anywhere. This—this workshop—it’s for you, Riley. For the store. For everything you’ve been working toward.”
Her eyes widen, and for a moment, she looks completely thrown. But then her expression hardens again. “I don’t understand why you’d do this, Ethan. You can’t just step in and change everything. This store—it’s all I have. It’s my responsibility, not yours.”
“I know that,” I say, stepping closer. “And I’m not trying to take that away from you. I just… I wanted to do something for you. To show you that you’re not alone. That this town cares about you. That I care about you.”
“I know I should’ve told you,” I add quickly, the words tumbling out before I can stop them. “But I was afraid you’d tell me to stop. And I couldn’t, Riley. Not when I see how much you give to this place, to this town, without ever asking for anything in return. You deserve this. You deserve to know that you’re not alone in this.”
Her breath catches, and I see the flicker of vulnerability in her eyes before she looks away.
“Riley,” I say softly, my chest tightening. “I know I should have explained things sooner. I know I messed up. But I’m trying to make it right. Please… just let me do this.”
She doesn’t respond right away, her arms still folded tightly across her chest. But then she exhales slowly, her shoulders sagging slightly.
“This was a stupid idea,” she mutters, shaking her head.
I flinch, but then I notice the small smile tugging at the corner of her lips.
“But,” she continues, glancing up at me, “it’s also kind of sweet.”
Relief washes over me, and I can’t help but smile back. “Kind of sweet?”
“Well, I can see you tried. And that means something.”
For the first time in days, the tension between us eases, and I feel like maybe—just maybe—I haven’t completely blown my chances.