LOGAN
The bell above the door chimed as I stepped into Petal Pusher, the scent of roses and fresh-cut greenery wrapping around me like a familiar blanket. The blast of air-conditioning hit my sun-warmed skin.
Instantly, I smiled.
There she was.
Ellie stood behind the counter, head bent in concentration, blond hair falling across her cheek. She hadn’t even looked up at the sound of the door—so focused, so her.
I drew a slow breath, taking her in. No matter how much time passed, seeing her still hit me the same way—sharp and soft all at once.
“You ready to go, Ace?” I asked as I stepped forward, my boots scuffing quietly against the polished floor.
At the sound of my voice, her shoulders relaxed, and her whole body seemed to exhale. When she lifted her head, a soft smile tugged at her lips, as if I was the thing she needed most in that moment.
“Thank God it’s you,” she breathed, pressing one hand to the counter and popping a hip out. “I heard the door chime, but I didn’t have it in me to look up and force a smile.”
I chuckled, rounding the counter. She opened her arms without a word, and I folded her into a hug—tight, real, like we both needed it more than either of us would admit. My chin rested easily on top of her head. She fit against me—hell, she always had.
“Rough day?” I leaned back just enough to see her face.
“You could say that,” she replied with a small laugh, though the edges of it were tired. She stepped back.
“I can’t shake this feeling that everyone is still judging me,” she admitted out loud. Though her voice was a soft whisper.
Ellie’s face fell—flat, lifeless. It was as if the constant loop of overthinking had drained every last spark out of her. Ever since she’d come back to Faircloud, that shadow of judgment had followed her, and she couldn’t outrun it.
“There was a woman in here, someone I barely even knew, and I swear she was giving me the side eye. She leaned over to the other person she was with, and they both started mumbling.” Ellie’s voice tightened, rough at the edges.
“I know they were talking about me, probably saying how stupid I am for coming back, how I should’ve seen the signs.
Oooh!” She snapped her fingers at me. “Or maybe about how sorry they felt for me. I hate the pity.”
She buried her face in her hands, her shoulders curling inward.
“Hey.” I reached for her, hand brushing her forearm. “You don’t know it was about you.”
“You didn’t see the way they looked at me.” Her voice cracked. “It’s like I was some sob story and a damn joke all at once.”
I exhaled slowly.
“You’re right, I didn’t. But we don’t know the truth so we can choose to believe the harmful thing, or we can say maybe they were just talking about how beautiful your flower arrangements were and they didn’t want your ego to grow.”
Ellie chuckled softly. “I doubt that.”
“And why’s that?”
“Don’t you remember right before I left Faircloud last year, all the things that were happening? All the looks and whispers? And then the final straw was when the crochet club called me crazy after I overheard them whisper-yelling about the whole thing. Logan, they told me I was hearing things.”
I remembered that night perfectly clear. She came home like a bat out of hell, and I’d been having dinner at the Cassidy’s. Ellie stomped upstairs, grabbed a jacket, and then stomped right back down and out the door without a word.
Boone stood to go check on her, but I insisted.
I found her at their swimming hole, sobbing into her hands. I spent hours sitting by her in silence as she let it all out.
“Or how about the people from our high school posting about me in the online forum? They all loved to share their opinions about my failed relationship and discuss how they would never have let it get to that point.”
Ellie faced the register, pressing buttons until the drawer popped open.
“Ace,” I murmured, and she paused. “These people talk about anything and everything because they’ve got nothing better to do. I can promise you, it is old news to them.”
She turned to face me, and I pulled her into a hug. She sagged against me.
“Their judgment means nothing. They don’t know you, and I honestly don’t think those women were talking about you.”
A quiet beat stretched between us.
“Come on,” I whispered. “Let’s get out of here and leave this behind. What do you say?”
Ellie nodded, a tiny motion.
“Let me grab my stuff. You mind manning the door so no one else wanders in?”
I gave her a mock salute. “Yes, ma’am.”
She disappeared through the black swinging doors, and I stayed behind, hands in my pockets, gaze sweeping the space.
The shop reminded me so much of the Ellie I knew—organized chaos, bright colors, wild creativity, and hidden strength in every petal.
Ellie put on a brave face for everyone else, but I saw the cracks. The weight she carried. She was doing her best to reintegrate into Faircloud, to find peace in a place that hadn’t been kind to her. But pretending to be okay and being okay? Two different things.
She and I had always had this unspoken understanding. We just… got each other. Always had. From the time we were kids, carefree and laughing until it hurt, to now, a little worn from the world and a little more cautious.
We were childhood best friends.
Except for me, she was more. I’d been in love with her for as long as I could remember.
I never said a damn thing, though, because losing her friendship would break me more than holding onto the love ever could.
Through the glass window, I saw her truck across the street, and my brow furrowed. Ellie never parked there. Too exposed, too risky for dings and scratches. I made a mental note to ask about it later.
The swish of the swinging doors behind me brought my attention back just in time to see her walk out, eyes glued to her phone, thumbs moving fast.
She didn’t look up as she approached the front door, so I stepped in front of her and opened it. She walked through, still multitasking, using one hand to text and the other to flip her key ring around to lock up.
I let out a low laugh. She really could do ten things at once and still look effortless doing it.
Finally, she slipped her phone into her bag and met my eyes. “That was Penny,” she sighed. “She wanted to know when I’m planning to move in so she can grab the rest of her stuff.”
“When are you planning to move in?” I asked as we fell into step side by side, heading down the sidewalk toward our dinner spot.
Ellie shrugged, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear. “Maybe in the next couple of weeks? I don’t know. I can’t even begin to think about that right now.”
There was defeat in her tone. Her shoulders slumped. My steps slowed to catch her attention.
I looked at her, and she must’ve felt my prolonged stare because her eyes flicked back to mine.
“Quit looking at me like that.” She brushed it off with a smirk and bumped me with her hip.
“Like what?”
“Like something is wrong with me.”
“Ellie…”
“For now, I just want to enjoy the sunshine and your charming company. It always makes me feel better.”
I reached out and caught her by the waist, pulling her in to wrap an arm around her shoulder.
“Fine,” I said. “Speaking of company, Boone’s throwing a bonfire this weekend. You wanna come? Pretty sure the whole crew’s going to be there.”
She grinned. “Considering I live there, I feel like it would be weird if I didn’t.”
I laughed, savoring the sound of her voice, the weight of her beside me.
Within a few short minutes—and a lighthearted conversation about the quirky customers who wandered into Petal Pusher that afternoon—Ellie and I walked into the restaurant and were greeted by a hostess.
She led us through the cozy dining room to a table tucked in the far corner, away from the low hum of voices and clinking glasses.
I pulled out a chair, and Ellie sat with a grateful smile, a smile so soft and familiar it never failed to get to me. I circled the table and took the seat across from her.
“Did Boone and my dad get back with the new horse yet?” she asked, eyes skimming the menu like she was actually considering something other than her usual. I knew better. She wasn’t changing a damn thing.
“Not before I left,” I said, settling into my chair. “Boone texted that they had to make a pit stop. Told me they wouldn’t be back before dark and not to wait around.”
She nodded, humming in response, the menu forgotten as she leaned back in her seat.
The waitress came over, pad in hand, and took our orders.
Just as I expected, Ellie stuck with her go-to—penne vodka and a side of fries.
I went with chicken parm and a side salad.
Some things were predictable—like her food choices, or the way she tucked one leg beneath her on the chair, crisscrossed and comfortable.
“Are you going to be the one to break her in?” I asked, taking a sip of water.
Ellie grinned, that old spark igniting in her eyes. “Come on. Who else would do it? No one’s as good as me.” She playfully buffed her nails on her shoulder, a motion indicating she knew it and didn’t mind owning it.
“Fair point.” I smiled. “I’m excited to see you work your magic again.”
Ellie had this uncanny ability with horses. It wasn’t just skill—it was instinct, connection. Animals trusted her. This would be her first time back in the saddle in over a year, and though she played it cool, I knew something deeper stirred beneath the surface because I knew her.
We slipped into conversation about past horses—names, stories, memories stitched together with laughter and a bit of wistfulness. Then her voice dropped just slightly.
“I just wonder…will I love it as much as I used to?”
“It’s going to feel good,” I told her. “Like riding a bike. Muscle memory, you know?”
She nodded, eyes dropping to her nails. A moment passed in silence, and I let it. I could see her thinking—bottom lip tucked between her teeth as she nibbled on the skin. When she looked back up, those brown eyes locked on me, and I swear I forgot to breathe.
“I’ve been really in my head.” Her voice was low.
“That what you didn’t want to talk about on the walk here?”
She gave a single nod. “I just feel like… like everyone’s watching me. Waiting to see if I’m still messed up. If I show the slightest crack, people are going to use it as proof that I’m still a charity case.”
Her words hit me straight in the chest. Seeing her so vulnerable, so unsure, made my heart twist.
“What’s going on?” I asked gently. “I’m sensing something more than those two women earlier. Did something happen? Did someone say something to you?”
She let out a short breath and looked down. “That loud guy next door parked in my spot this morning, and I completely lost it. Had to drive up and down the street looking for parking and still couldn’t find anything. I had a full-on hissy fit in my truck.”
“So that’s why you parked across the street?” I said, the puzzle piece falling into place.
“Yup,” she replied with a humorless laugh. “It’s stupid. I know it is. But I’ve been so irritable lately, everything just sets me off. I’m quick to anger, and it’s exhausting. It’s like… it’s not even about the parking spot. It’s this town. It’s everything.”
I knew what Faircloud was to her now. I knew how her opinions had changed after everything that happened.
When she left, she shut nearly everyone out.
Everyone except me. I was the one person she stayed in contact with the majority of the time, and I never told anyone.
I didn’t give up, even when she ignored my texts. There was a time Boone told me he’d heard from her, and I lost it. I couldn’t take the silence, so I reached out again. I kept reaching. And one day, finally, she called me back.
Eventually, I even drove out to see her.
“It’s going to take time, Ace,” I said.
She let out a soft sigh and nodded. “I know, but I’m impatient, and it doesn’t make the feeling any less there. I need something good to come soon.”
The waitress came by with our food, and we both dug in, switching the topic to something lighter and less emotionally taxing. We decided to focus on our friends instead.
“Can you believe Penny and Mac moved in together?”