Chapter 12
CHAPTER 12
L una walked along the beach, which was one of her favorite things to do every day. She was heading toward the inn, hoping to talk to Julie before the bookstore opened. She knew Julie was busy working on her latest book and hoped that she wasn't going to be interrupting anything. It was so beautiful this morning, bright and clear, but her thoughts were unsettled.
Something had been off with Archer since the golf classic. He’d been acting a little strange, and she couldn’t tell if he was pulling away or if she had done something to upset him.
As she approached the inn’s porch, she heard voices drifting from above. Archer and Dawson, their tones serious despite the early hour.
"Archer, you have to tell her. The Oakland Hills deadline is coming up. You’re just making this harder.”
She froze, her heart pounding in her chest.
Archer had explained a lot about golf to her, and one of the things she remembered was a place called Oakland Hills in California.
"I know," Archer’s voice was rough. "It’s just… every time I try, or I look at her, I think about what I’m leaving behind?—"
"It’s a prestigious coaching position and a big opportunity," Dawson said. "But California is a long way away."
California.
The word hit Luna like a physical blow.
She pressed her hand against the weathered siding and steadied herself.
"It’s my chance to stay in the game," Archer said, "and to make a real difference with young players."
"Well, what about the difference you’re making here?" Dawson asked. "With the students here? And with Luna?"
The silence that followed was deafening.
Luna didn’t even wait to hear Archer’s response. She turned and ran quickly back to Serenity, her vision blurring with tears.
She shouldn’t have let herself get so close to a client.
What was she thinking?
Her job was to help him, and now she was upset that he might be leaving.
It wasn’t fair to keep him here. Her job was to get people on their feet and moving in the right direction, and maybe California was the right direction for Archer.
But everything made sense now.
His hesitation, the guilty looks that would cross his face like a shadow and then be gone, the way he’d pulled back just when they were getting closer.
He was leaving.
He’d been planning to leave all along.
Luna barely remembered her walk back to Serenity. Her mind was just racing with the fragments of conversation she’d just heard.
A deadline.
Oakland Hills.
California.
She moved through her morning routine mechanically, like she was some kind of robot—lighting candles and trying to prepare for her first class. But her hands trembled, and her chest felt so tight.
"He’s leaving," she whispered to an empty room.
The words tasted like ashes in her mouth.
A knock at the door made her jump.
She thought it might be Archer, which was terrifying. She wasn’t ready to talk to him.
Would she tell him what she overheard?
Or would she let him go without ever knowing that she had heard their conversation?
But instead, she found Janine standing there.
"Luna?" Janine said, her smile fading. "What’s wrong?"
The concern in Janine’s voice broke something inside of her, and tears spilled over.
"He’s leaving," she managed. "Archer—he’s been offered some coaching position in California. He’s been kind of distant since the golf classic, and I know why now. Why he keeps pulling back. He’s known all along that he was going to leave."
Janine crossed the room quickly and pulled Luna into a hug.
"Well, honey, when did he tell you?"
"He didn’t tell me." Luna pulled back and wiped her eyes, trying to get cleaned up before her class. "I just overheard him talking to Dawson. He has to make a decision by tomorrow."
"And knowing Archer, he’s probably been tying himself up into knots trying to figure out how to tell you."
Luna walked over to the window and looked out at the ocean.
"I’ve been so stupid, Janine. Letting myself feel things, think things, plan some kind of a future. I was supposed to just be someone helping him. And now look at it. The whole situation is a mess."
"Stop right there," Janine said firmly. "Nothing about what you’re feeling is stupid."
"You don’t understand," Luna said, turning to look at Janine. "I came here to build something, and to help others heal. I wasn’t supposed to?—"
She trailed off, wrapping her arms around herself.
"Fall in love?" Janine asked quietly.
Luna closed her eyes against more tears and nodded.
"I can’t hold him back, Janine. He deserves this chance to stay in the game he loves and to make a difference on a bigger scale."
"What about what you deserve? What about what he might want?"
"He wants that job. I heard it in his voice." Luna walked over to straighten some books, trying to keep her hands busy and stop herself from crying anymore. "I’m not going to be the reason he gives up his dreams. That was the whole reason why he came here in the first place. I will not be another injury that keeps him from the life he’s meant to have."
"Luna?"
"No." Luna straightened her shoulders, pulling in years of practice and professional composure. "I need to step back. I need to make it easier for him to go. And you cannot say anything."
"You’re going to make it easier by breaking both of your hearts?"
"I’m going to make it easier by giving him the freedom to choose without guilt."
Luna looked at her watch.
"My first client will be here soon. I need to pull myself together."
"What are you going to do?"
"What I do best," Luna said, forcing a smile. "Help others heal, even if I’m breaking inside."
“You can't just shut down,” Janine said. Not after everything you taught us about facing our feelings.
"I'm not shutting down," Luna said. Her voice felt hollow, even to her own ears. "I'm being practical, professional. It's what I should have done all along."
"There's nothing practical about pretending your heart isn't breaking."
Luna paused her straightening of the room. "Well then, what would you have me do, Janine? Beg him to stay? Tell him that in the few months that I've known him, he's become essential?"
Janine said nothing for a moment, then softly replied, "Yes."
Luna turned away. "Look, he needs to make this decision without the complications of worrying about me and my feelings, without me making it harder than it probably already is."
"What about your decision and your feelings?"
"My feelings don't matter, not in this." Luna squared her shoulders, as she had done so many times in her life. "I got to follow my dreams and come here to Seagrove. I cannot ask him to give up his."
A car door slammed outside. Her first client was arriving. Luna took a deep breath.
"Luna," Janine said from the doorway, "just promise me one thing. Don't push him away before he even has a chance to make the choice for himself."
But as Luna prepared to greet her client, she knew she had to do exactly that.
If she didn't start to push him away now, she wasn't sure she would ever be strong enough to let him go when the time came.
It was the worst possible outcome, but she knew what had to be done.
* * *
A rcher made it to Serenity for his usual morning visit, coffee in hand, a habit he'd developed as he got to know Luna. She always had the same coffee order, a latte with a shot of caramel syrup. But something felt different as soon as he stepped onto the porch.
Through the window, he could see Luna moving around, but she looked stiffer, more controlled—not her usual happy, go-lucky self. When she opened the door, she had a professional smile, not the one she usually gave when she saw him. This was the smile from the first time they met, but it hadn't been directed at him in weeks.
“Archer, I’m sorry, but I have a full schedule today. I won’t be able to chat. I’m sorry you wasted time getting those coffees.”
He frowned, noting the careful distance she kept between them. “I just thought after the other night?—”
“Oh, the other night was lovely,” she said, her voice very neutral. “But you know, I’ve been thinking—I really need to focus on Serenity right now, and on my clients.”
“Luna—” He stepped forward, but she moved back slightly.
“I think it’s important that we maintain appropriate boundaries,” she said, not quite meeting his eyes. “I let things become unprofessional, and that’s totally my fault.”
“Unprofessional?” His chest tightened. “Is that what you think the other night was?”
“What I think doesn’t matter.” She finally looked at him, and there was something in her eyes that made his chest ache. “What matters is that we both have responsibilities and careers to think about.”
He felt like he was watching the most precious thing in his life slip right through his fingers. “Did I do something wrong or say something?—”
“Oh no,” she said quickly. “You didn’t do anything wrong. I just… I need some space to think clearly.”
He wanted to tell her about Oakland Hills and how torn he felt, and how she had become the most important part of his day. But the words were stuck in his throat, trapped behind the fear of losing her completely.
“Right. Space. Sure.” He turned to leave and then paused. “Just tell me one thing—was any of it real, or was I just another project for you to fix?”
The hurt that flashed across her face made him regret the words immediately. But before he could apologize or take them back, she closed the door between them.
He stood on the porch for a long moment after Luna closed the door, the coffees growing cold in his hands. He could see her move to her desk, her back straight, but he caught a slight tremor in her hands as she shuffled papers. He wanted to knock again, to demand answers, to understand what had changed between them since that magical evening on the dance floor.
But her words echoed in his head—appropriate boundaries, unprofessional.
They cut like tiny knives.
If he was one thing, it was a gentleman. There was no way he was going to cross any boundaries she had put up.
The walk back to the inn felt longer than usual. His shoulder ached for the first time in a long time. The Oakland Hills deadline loomed, but instead of clarity, he felt more confused than ever.
“Well, you’re back early,” Dawson said when Archer walked into the kitchen. “What happened?”
“Luna just shut me out completely.” Archer set down the untouched coffees. “Said we needed, and I quote, ‘appropriate boundaries’, and that she’d let things become unprofessional.”
“That doesn’t sound like Luna.”
“Yeah, no kidding. A few days ago, we were dancing under the twinkle lights, and now she can barely look at me.”
Dawson looked at him carefully. “Did you tell her about Oakland Hills?”
“No. I was going to today. She wouldn’t even let me in the door.”
“Maybe she found out,” Dawson said quietly.
“How? I haven’t told anybody except you.”
“Well, I certainly didn’t tell anyone.”
Archer sat in the kitchen chair, the weight of the world pressing down on him. “I’ve messed this up. By waiting too long to tell her, by letting things develop between us when I knew I might be leaving.”
“Or maybe,” Dawson said, “you’ve been looking for reasons to take the Oakland Hills job because you’re scared of what’s happening between the two of you.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“It means you spent your whole life chasing the next big thing in golf. But with Luna and with the kids you’re teaching, you found something real—something you can’t measure in tournament wins or prestigious coaching positions.”
Archer couldn’t stop thinking about Luna’s face when she watched him teach the kids, or about the way she felt in his arms during their dance.
“None of that matters now,” he said roughly. “She’s made it clear that she wants nothing to do with me.”
“Has she?” Dawson challenged. “Or do you think maybe she’s protecting herself?”
Archer frowned. “What are you saying?”
Dawson leaned against the counter. “Think about it, Archer. If she did somehow find out about the job offer, what would Luna do?”
“She’d…” Archer trailed off as understanding dawned. “She’d step back. Try to make it easier for me to leave.”
“Exactly.”
Archer stood and paced the kitchen. “She won’t even talk to me. And the Oakland Hills deadline is tomorrow.”
“So make a decision,” Dawson said. “The real decision—not the one you think you should make.”
“You know it’s not that simple.”
“It actually is.” Dawson crossed his arms. “When you think about your future, what do you see? Some big coaching position across the country? Or the life you’ve started building here?”
Archer stopped pacing and looked out the window toward Serenity. He thought about his young students’ eager faces and the way teaching them had brought so much joy back to the game. He thought about Luna, and how she had helped him find himself again.
“I see her.” He swallowed hard. “But what if that’s not enough? What if I stay, and she continues pushing me away? What if I give up my last chance to stay connected to professional golf?”
“Or what if you take the job and spend the rest of your life wondering what might have been?” Dawson said. “A woman like Luna isn’t going to just sit around. Somebody’s going to snatch her up.”
Archer’s phone buzzed—another email from Oakland Hills, asking for a final decision, wanting to make an announcement.
“I need to think,” he muttered, walking toward the door.
“Well, don’t think too long,” Dawson called after him. “Some chances don’t come around twice.”
* * *
"W ell, my goodness, you look terrible," Dixie announced as she appeared in Luna's doorway, holding another armful of books. Luna’s library was bursting at the seams. "And don't you tell me you're fine, because we both know that's not true."
"Dixie, I don't want to be rude, but I have clients coming."
"Not for another hour," Dixie said, setting down the books. "You want to tell me why you're pushing away the best thing that's happened to you since you came to Seagrove?"
"I'm not pushing him away. I'm setting appropriate boundaries, and goodness gracious, things get around in this town very quickly."
"Boundaries," Dixie scoffed. "Honey, that boy looks at you like you hung the moon, and you look at him the same way when you think nobody's watching."
Luna's composure started to crack. "He's leaving, Dixie. He has this amazing opportunity in California, and I'm not going to be the reason he stays and gives up his dream."
"Did he tell you that?"
"No, he doesn't have to. I heard him talking to Dawson about it."
Dixie was quiet for a moment. "So you decided to make the choice easier by breaking both of your hearts at the same time."
"I'm giving him the freedom to choose without guilt. It's the same thing I told Janine, who I assume told you," Luna said, rolling her eyes.
"Oh, sugar." Dixie moved closer. "Don't you think he deserves to make that choice with all the facts, including how you feel about him?"
"I can't tell him how I feel," Luna said. "It would only make things harder for him."
"Harder than this? Honey, you're not sleeping. You're barely eating. SuAnn says you haven't even been to Hotcakes in days."
"I'm fine."
"You're about as fine as Archer is. You should see him trying to teach those kids. I can tell something's majorly wrong. One of the kids asked why Coach looks so sad."
Luna's chest tightened. She hadn't let herself think about how her withdrawal might affect Archer. She figured he'd get over it quickly, as most of the men in her past had done.
"He'll be fine once he gets to California," she said. The words tasted bitter in her mouth. "He'll have a fresh start and a chance to build something meaningful."
"And what about what he's already built here? Those kids adore him. The whole town respects him. Not only for what he did when he was a professional golfer, but what he does now. And you?—"
"Please don't," Luna whispered.
"Well, somebody has to say it. You love him. And from where I'm standing, he loves you, too. That kind of love doesn't come along every day."
Luna found herself wondering if he had accepted the job. The time had passed for when he was supposed to answer. Oakland Hills? Did he tell them yes? Was he leaving soon? Had he already packed the few things he brought with him to Seagrove? She wanted to know. She wanted to ask Dixie if she knew, but she was afraid the answer might just break her heart.
"Sometimes love isn't enough. Haven't you ever heard that before?"
"Only when we don't give it a chance to be enough."
"You don't understand," Luna said, wrapping her arms around her body. "Every time I've opened my heart and tried to build something with someone, it all falls apart. My marriage, my practice in Austin…”
"Is that what this is really about? You're not just protecting Archer from having to choose. You're protecting yourself from feeling left behind again."
She thought about how she really was about to feel left behind if Archer left.
"Look, I came here to help others, Dixie. To create something meaningful. I never expected?—"
"Yes, I know. To need healing yourself."
Dixie's bangles clinked as she touched Luna's arm. "Honey, sometimes the best healing happens when we stop trying to control every little thing. When we just let ourselves be vulnerable and let the chips fall where they may."
"I can't." Luna's voice broke. "I can't watch him leave. Not after..."
"After what?"
"After he made me believe in magic again. In second chances. The way he looks at me sometimes, like I'm something precious. Nobody's ever looked at me that way."
"Then why are you pushing that away?"
"Because it will hurt less to end it now on my own terms than watch him choose California over—over me."
"Honey, has it occurred to you that maybe he's waiting for a reason to stay?"
Before Luna could respond, she heard a car door slam outside. Through the window, she saw Archer getting into his truck, his shoulders set in a way she recognized, like he'd made a decision about something.
Her heart clenched. The Oakland Hills deadline was today.