12
The sun rose slowly, casting a warm glow over the room, but Emery barely noticed. June was curled tight against her, her little body hot to the touch and damp with feverish sweat.
She’d stirred a few times in the night, mumbling nonsense in her sleep, her forehead wrinkled like she was trying to shake off a bad dream. Emery had soothed her each time, pressing a cool cloth to her skin and whispering gentle words.
But this morning? She looked worse.
June’s face was pale, her cheeks flushed red with fever, and her eyes seemed glassy and heavy- lidded. She hadn’t touched the toast or watered-down juice Emery had made her. Just laid her head on the table and whimpered.
Emery didn’t hesitate. She scooped her phone off the counter and shot off a quick message.
EMERY: Hey… June’s still feeling rough this morning. She’s barely eating, and her fever hasn’t broken. I think I should take her to urgent care just to be safe. I don’t want to miss anything.
The typing dots appeared almost immediately.
LEVI: Damn.
LEVI: I was hoping she’d bounce back today.
LEVI: I hate that I’m not there.
LEVI : I’m gonna try and wrap this up and get home by late afternoon. Will you keep me posted?
EMERY: Of course. I’ll take good care of her. Promise.
LEVI: I know you will.
LEVI: Thank you, baby .
Emery sighed, tucking her phone into her back pocket and turning her attention to June, who had managed to shuffle herself over to the couch and now lay there quietly under a throw blanket.
“Hey, June bug,” she said gently, kneeling beside her. “We’re gonna go see a doctor, okay? Just to help you feel better faster.”
June blinked up at her with dull eyes and gave the smallest nod.
The urgent care office was busy, but the staff had ushered June in quickly thanks to her high fever. Emery sat beside her on the crinkly paper of the exam table, running her fingers through June’s hair while answering questions from the nurse practitioner.
When the exam confirmed a case of strep, Emery was relieved—not because June was sick, but because there was something they could do now. Antibiotics. More popsicles. Rest.
After picking up June's prescription, Emery settled June back into Levi’s bed with a cool washcloth, a movie queued up, and a pink plastic measuring spoon resting on the nightstand beside her bubblegum-flavored meds for the next dose that was due in 6 hours.
She texted Levi again after sitting down on the edge of the bed.
EMERY: Confirmed strep. Got her antibiotics. She’s resting now and already looks a little better. No worries, she’s in good hands.
LEVI: I swear, I owe you a year’s worth of favors. Thank you for being there for her. I don’t know what I’d do without you. I’ll be home as soon as I can. Give her a hug from me.
Emery smiled softly at the screen, warmth spreading through her chest as she set the phone aside. She looked down at the little girl curled under the covers and brushed a strand of hair from her forehead.
“I’ve got you, bug,” she whispered.
June was sleeping, her forehead slightly warm but her breathing even. A movie played low in the background, something animated and familiar.
Emery moved softly through the house, tidying up, rinsing dishes with one ear tuned to June if she should wake.
She was just reaching for a folded dish towel on the counter when she spotted it—a plain envelope sitting on the front porch right at the top of the steps.
She let herself out on the covered porch, looking around, wondering how that got there because it had her name on it, but no address, no postage, and she hadn’t noticed it coming back from the doctor's office.
Maybe the postmaster just knew where to find her?
It was a small town after all. Maybe the gossip mill was doing its job.
Maybe it had been there, and she was so focused on getting June inside that she had missed it.
Her name was scrawled across the front in thick ink.
Her stomach dipped as she walked back into the kitchen.
She didn’t recognize the handwriting right away, but the moment she slid a finger beneath the flap and unfolded the papers inside, her breath caught .
Denny.
She hadn’t thought about him in weeks. She’d left that job behind like a burning building, walked away with her integrity intact—even if it had cost her everything else. Clients. Colleagues. A reputation she’d worked damn hard to build.
But the letter in her hands was like a sucker punch.
"Funny how so many clients jumped ship the moment you did, Emery. Almost like it was planned. Almost like you took them with you. You and I both know what that looks like. And it won’t take much to make the rest of the industry believe you played dirty to make your way to those accounts.
You were always good at playing innocent—pretty face, soft voice, all the men wrapped around your finger.
But that won’t hold up under scrutiny. Especially when I still have access to old emails and security footage.
Hell, I bet half of those men could be persuaded to share a version of what happened.
A version that aligns with the story I’ll tell.
I suggest you find a way to make this right.
Fast. Don’t test me. You know that I mean what I say. ”
No signature, just his initials.
Her stomach dropped. That familiar feeling of dread curled in her chest, just like it used to every time he’d call her into his office and slam the door shut.
Was he insinuating he would pay the accounts to lie?
She refolded the letter, the paper shaking slightly between her fingers.
It wasn’t true. Not any of it. She’d worked her ass off for those clients.
Late nights, business trips, endless calls.
And yes, some had left her when she left, but not because of anything shady.
Because she was good at what she did. Because she cared.
And when she left, so did anyone willing to work to keep those accounts happy the way that she did.
But Denny didn’t care about facts. He cared about power. He always had.
Emery blinked hard, standing at the sink, gripping the edge of the counter as her mind spiraled.
She could feel old fear clawing its way back in. That feeling of being cornered. Doubted. Emery took a slow breath, grounding herself in the moment.
This wasn’t the office. This wasn’t the life she’d left behind.
This was Levi’s kitchen. June’s home. Her second chance.
She stared down at the envelope on the counter, her jaw tightening.
No way in hell was she letting Denny rip this from her, too.
That’s when her phone buzzed.
LEVI: Hour out.
She stared at the message for a long moment without replying.
He seemed short. Maybe he was just tired. Maybe he was driving. Maybe she was extra sensitive after that letter and was just reading too much into his simple text.
But her heart was pounding. For the first time in days, she felt like the floor underneath her wasn’t so steady anymore.
? ? ?
When Emery caught the low rumble of Levi’s truck pulling up and saw the dust trail following it, instant relief washed over her.
She hadn’t even realized how tightly she’d been carrying herself until she felt the feeling of safety that came with knowing he was home now.
June was resting, the dinner was nearly done, and the weight of the day had settled into her shoulders like wet sand.
But he was home.
She wiped her hands on a towel, already anticipating the way his presence would shift the room, settle it, maybe soften the tightness that lived in her chest since earlier .
But then the screen door opened and slammed shut harder than usual.
Her shoulders flinched.
Heavy footsteps stormed in, boots tracking dust and frustration across the floorboards. Levi didn’t speak as he crossed the kitchen, just yanked his hat off and tossed it onto the table hard enough that it skidded across the surface.
Emery turned, cautious. “Hi.”
He didn’t answer at first. Just stood there, jaw clenched, as he emptied his pockets into the counter.
“Bad day?” she tried again, gentler.
Levi finally looked at her, but there was no softness in it. “Yeah. Bad fucking day.”
He pushed a hand through his hair. “I’m so fucking tired of having to micromanage every aspect of my life.
Fucking Cole forgot to close the goddamn gate, which added hours of chasing down the cattle that got out.
Another guy snapped the axle on the trailer, trying to take a shortcut that I specifically told him not to take.
Jess started off the trip hungover as shit and wasn’t even remotely helpful until hours in. ”
Emery kept quiet, letting him vent, letting him unload—but when he turned on her, something in his tone shifted. Sharpened.
“I get that call that June’s sick, and I’m stuck in the middle of goddamn nowhere trying to fucking delegate again because I can’t even take five fucking minutes to check on my own daughter without the whole damn thing falling apart.”
Her chest went tight. “Levi—”
He interrupted, “Yeah. I know, thanks for the help.”
The way he said it, it wasn’t gratitude. It was a dismissal. Like she didn’t do enough, or maybe like she’d done too much. Like, he was mad that she stepped in.
She swallowed, her throat suddenly feeling dry. “I was just trying to help.”
“Mhmm,” he said with a hollow laugh, rubbing his face. “Everybody just wants to fix me lately, but maybe I’d be able to take care of my own shit if I wasn’t fixing everything that everyone else was fucking up 24/7.”
That stung. Deep.
Emery took a small step back, her hand tightening around the edge of the counter. “I wasn’t—”
“Look,” Levi cut in, sighing like he was tired of the conversation. “Thanks, okay? Why don’t you just take the rest of the week off? You’ve done plenty.”
The words hit her like a slap. “I’m gonna go shower and check on my kid.”
Leaving Emery standing there, heart pounding, cheeks burning. Hurt. Confused. A growing knot of frustration in her chest.
She looked around—at the spoon still clutched in her hand, the dinner she’d prepped with care, the laundry she’d folded. Thinking about the fever she’d monitored every hour for his daughter. His daughter rocked through a restless nap with a cool rag pressed to her forehead.
The corner of the counter caught her eye .
That envelope from Denny was still hidden in the stack of Levi’s mail; its presence sat like a loaded gun.
The screen door creaked softly as Emery stepped onto the porch, the air cool against her flushed cheeks.
She sat slowly onto the top step, tucking her knees into her chest as the sun began to dip behind the hills, casting that same shade of gold she'd come to love over everything, except the ache sitting heavy in her chest. The silence out here was usually nice.
But tonight, it rattled her nerves, too loud and too quiet all at once.
The letter from Denny echoed in her mind like poison, the words still crawling under her skin.
Promiscuous, manipulative, undeserving.
He was going to smear her name, and no one would question it.
And now this, with Levi…what the hell. She didn’t know what stung more—the words, the coldness in his tone, or the fact that he couldn’t even look at her when he told her to take the week off. A few days ago, he was kissing her senseless and now pushing her aw ay.
She curled her arms tighter around her knees.
Maybe the women at the store were right, she didn’t belong here—didn’t know these people, didn’t understand how to blend in.
Maybe Levi never really wanted her here at all.
Maybe she was just another easy thing in a hard season. A temporary distraction that he regretted the second things got real.
Her throat burned with the weight of it.
Behind her, the porch creaked again, this time quieter, less storm, more hesitation.