Chapter 51
SADIE
Dusty Hollow spreads out before us. It’s such a small dot on the map, but it’s held most of the life I’ve ever known. It’s where I was born and raised. Where I took my first steps, read my first words, and learned about Jesus.
These city limits were a border of safety for me for so long, but they’ve also been a quiet kind of boundary. The kind you don’t notice at first because it feels like comfort.
For years, I thought being good meant staying inside those lines. Doing what was expected. Being who everyone needed me to be.
But somewhere along the way, the lines started to feel smaller. Not because Dusty Hollow changed.
Because I did. I just didn’t know how to admit that out loud.
I lean into Milo one last time, pressing a kiss to his cheek before sliding across the seat.
He smiles, but it’s sad—one of those smiles that feels more like a sigh than a breath.
I love Milo Carter. I always have. But it’s not my love for him that’s in question right now. It’s the love I have for myself.
I’ve read enough stories to know it sounds cliché, but how can you give your whole heart to someone else when you don’t even fully understand it yourself?
And so I have to figure out who Sadie Summers really is.
I swallow, my throat tight, as we pull into town. Everything already feels different.
I catch a glimpse of Grant through the window of the hardware store, a tug of knowing that I need to talk to him first.
When Milo turns on Pine Street, I inhale deeply.
This is it.
For years, I’ve lived inside a version of myself that fit neatly into this town.
Reliable Sadie. Responsible Sadie. Rooted in Dusty Hollow Sadie.
I’m the girl who says yes before anyone even has to ask, and now I must walk back in and start undoing it.
Every promise I made because it felt easier than saying no. Every role I filled because someone needed me. Every version of myself I quietly handed away.
It felt simple when I was away from here.
Away from the office, from church, from my schedule, perfectly curated to accommodate everyone else’s needs. Away from neighbors who have known me since I rode my pink bike with silver tassels down Main Street, skinned knees and a proud smile.
Away from the expectations.
Changing yourself in a new place is one thing. Changing when everyone already knows who they think you are?
That’s something else entirely.
We pull into my drive and Milo puts his truck in park. He glances over at me. “I already miss you,” he says, voice breaking.
His words hurt, but I take them and nod. “I know.”
He opens his door, walking to the back to take my luggage out of the bed. I open my door and wait for him to bring it to me.
When he does, he’s holding the small brown Bible. He hands it out to me. “You should have this back.”
“I can’t take your Bible,” I argue instantly.
His smile is soft. “I can get another.”
We’ve had this conversation before . . .
I take it from him, the worn leather soft beneath my palms.
“When you don’t know who you are, turns out the answers are in there.” He rests his finger on the Bible for a second. “It’s the thing that helped me most when I was figuring things out.”
“Thank you. I hope you understand.” My words are quiet.
“Understanding isn’t the hard part. Walking away from you again is.” He reaches out and brushes his fingers down the side of my face. “Do it for the plot, Bookworm.”
I grin at his words, tears burning hot in my eyes. “Give your all, Hot Shot.”
He nods before he wraps his arms around me, tucking me into him. I let my tears fall and soak into his shirt.
“I’ll be rooting for you, Sadie Summers,” he whispers.
He presses a long kiss on the top of my head like he’s memorizing the moment. Then he surrenders me and walks around his truck to get in, wiping at his eyes.
I watch as he pulls out of my drive, the dented green truck disappearing down the road.
I blink and see a teenage boy driving away. I blink again and Milo Carter is gone.
Then I turn to my house, pulling my suitcase behind me.
When I get inside and I close the door, my legs give out beneath me.
I hit the floor and sob.
I let the minutes pass as tears freely fall.
It feels good not to control them, to just let the emotions pass through me.
When my vision finally clears and the tears stop, I glance to my side and see Milo’s Bible on the floor next to me.
I reach for it, opening it to a random page, tracing the notes he left in the margins.
One reads God’s not a genie. He’s a guide.
I’ve always prayed for others.
Somewhere along the way, I forgot how to pray for myself. Forgot that it’s okay to admit when I’m not okay. To ask for help. To stop pretending I have it all figured out.
I close my eyes, leaning my head against the door, and give it all to God. The fear. The grief. The parts of me I’ve kept tidy and the parts I’ve tried to hide.
When I open my eyes, nothing is magically fixed—but I feel a little steadier. A little clearer.
I’ve been the good girl for as long as I can remember. The one who does everything right, who smiles through discomfort, who makes it all look easy.
But life isn’t easy.
And if I’m going to face it, I have to do it as myself—not as the version everyone else expects.
I stand slowly, my feet finding the floor again, and roll my suitcase to my bedroom before I go to the bathroom to wash my face. My eyes are puffy and my skin splotchy from crying, but I smile at my reflection, tracing the evidence of pain still fresh on my face.
Then I splash cold water and scrub, because while I can appreciate the grief, I need Grant to see my clarity.
I choose to walk in the summer heat, letting it warm my bare shoulders. People timidly wave at me when they see me, confirming the gossip chain is alive and well. Who knows what people think happened on my impromptu road trip with Milo, but I can guarantee it’s not the whole truth.
Grant sees me through the glass before I open the door to his store. He swallows when I enter, and I can tell he’s bracing himself.
“Hey, Grant.” I greet him with a grateful smile.
“Sadie.” My name is quiet but firm.
I shrug. “I’m not sure exactly what to say.”
His brow quirks. “You with Milo?”
“Milo’s—” I pause. “Well, I’m figuring some things out for myself.”
“Like what?” he asks.
I turn my head and look out the large glass window, my reflection faint against the view of the building I’ve worked in across from Grant for almost seven years.
I’ve waved at him through that glass thousands of times, stepped into this hardware store for one thing and left with three, stood beside him at community events where our names were already known before we said them.
Grant and I aren’t strangers—we’re rooted in this town, part of its history.
“Like why you decided to ask me out after Milo came back? I know you said you finally gained the courage, but the timing . . .” I trail off, tilting my head, gazing intently at Grant.
His eyes dart down toward the counter until he finally meets mine, his face softer than it was seconds ago. “Truthfully?”
I nod. “I’m only accepting honesty these days.”
He removes his ball cap and runs a hand through his dark hair. “I thought I had more time.”
I arch a brow. “To?”
“To take my shot,” he admits.
I shake my head, feeling my smile press against my cheeks. “Well, it was a good shot.”
He gives me a half smile. “No, it wasn’t. I don’t think I really stood a chance.”
“You’re a good guy, Grant,” I say.
He chuckles. “I know this is the part where you’re going to say I’m just not the right one.”
I shrug. “Well . . .”
“It’s okay, Sadie. I hope I at least gave Milo a bit of a scare.”
I laugh lightly. “Grant Williams, are you saying you wanted to create drama?”
His cheeks dimple. “There are only so many things to do in a small town.”
I shake my head. “Well, I’ve got to go finish checking off a list.”
I turn around.
“Hey,” he says with a surprised tone. “You got a tattoo.”
I turn to face him again. “I did.”
“You look good, Sadie.”
“I feel good.” My eyes catch the sun reflecting on the glass of the counter. I walk over toward it, pointing to where the list had been. The list that began this entire crazy journey. “Hey . . . do you remember a sign that was here? It was about trying new things.”
“I’m not sure.”
I study his face, because I’m still not sure how the list made it home with me—as if it was somehow destined, but there’s nothing mischievous in the way Grant is looking at me.
“Well, there was one, and even if you don’t remember, thanks.”
He tilts his head. “For?”
“Everything. I hope someday you find someone who loves Dusty Hollow as much as you do.”
And I mean it. He deserves someone who wants this place to be forever, and as of right now, that’s not me.
He puts his hat back on his head, backward. “Thanks, Sadie. I hope you figure things out.”
“I imagine my name will keep the gossip chain busy for a while,” I tease with a wide grin.
He chuckles. “Just remember that what other people say doesn’t really matter when the choices you make are true to yourself.”
I nod. “I’ll remember that.”
I step back into the sunlight. This town is exactly the same as it’s always been.
But now I know I’m not the same Sadie.