Chapter Seventeen
Seventeen
W illow paused at the threshold of her therapist’s office located in the lower floor of a charming light blue one-story house on Meadowood Lane, a five-minute walk from the bar. Therapy sessions had once been etched into her calendar every four days, but now they were sporadic—only when she felt she needed them.
Outside on the porch with the bright yellow front door, she inhaled deeply, drawing in the crisp mountain air as if it could steady the unease in her chest. With a breath that was more determination than calm, Willow pushed open the door and stepped inside.
“Willow,” greeted Dr. Thorne, her voice a warm blanket wrapping around Willow. Her smile was kind. Her colorful glasses as unique as her pale blue eyes. Dr. Thorne was around her mother’s age, and Willow had felt immediately safe with her.
“Morning,” Willow replied, her voice steadier than she felt. She shed her jacket and scarf, placing them on the hook by the door.
“Come in—make yourself comfortable,” Dr. Thorne offered, gesturing toward the plush couch, while she sat in a wing-backed light pink chair.
As Willow sank into the cushions, she said, “Thank you for seeing me.”
“Anytime, Willow,” Dr. Thorne said, her eyes reflecting a depth of empathy. “Why don’t you start with what’s been going on lately?”
So, she did.
Willow explained about Eli and his past, the kiss all those months ago and everything that had followed. Her fingers traced the edge of the plush throw pillow as she spilled her heart out in that room.
Across from her, Dr. Thorne did what she did best, she listened.
“Being with Eli,” Willow said, “it was like discovering a part of myself I’d forgotten—or maybe never knew existed. With him, laughter came effortlessly, and moments felt...full, alive.”
Dr. Thorne nodded. “It sounds like he brought a great deal of joy into your life.”
“He did,” Willow said, allowing herself a small smile at the memory. “I know it was all for pretend, but then it wasn’t, and I was happy.”
“Was there a specific moment that stands out to you as the best?” Dr. Thorne asked.
“I guess it being Christmas right now has helped,” Willow answered. “The bar’s all decorated, so full of life, and festive cheer.”
“Sounds magical,” Dr. Thorne murmured.
“It was,” Willow affirmed, before that day came back to her mind. “Until Buck stormed into the bar, drunk and belligerent.”
She paused, her heart hitching as she relived the terror that had gripped her when Buck’s hands shoved against her, the force of his anger palpable.
“Go on,” Dr. Thorne urged softly.
“His eyes were wild, unfocused,” Willow recounted, as she wrapped her arms around herself. “He went after Amie, and I tried to intervene. That’s when he pushed me, hard, and I fell to the floor.”
In the silence that followed, Willow could almost hear the echo of the impact.
“Then Eli...” She trailed off, the protective fury in his intense eyes filling her mind. “Eli didn’t hesitate. He lunged at Buck, fists flying. It was chaos. Our Christmas decorations—the ones we had all worked on together to raise money for the shelter—were ruined. Ornaments shattered, wreaths broken—everything we created was destroyed.”
“Must have been devastating to see something you cherished so deeply come apart like that,” Dr. Thorne observed.
“Very devastating,” Willow admitted, a single tear breaking free to trace a path down her cheek. “But I also saw Eli defend us without a second thought, even if I know it came from his own personal demons.”
“You liked seeing him protect?” Dr. Thorne said, leaning in slightly.
Willow nodded. “I’ve always felt safe with him.” She drew in a long, deep breath before she continued, “But right after, when the chaos was over, it felt like my brain just...shut off. Everything went blank. And now it’s like I’m frozen, standing outside of myself, watching everything happen around me. It’s like I’m proud of Eli, and totally understand where his anger came from, but I just feel...empty. And I don’t think it’s fair to bring someone into that, you know?”
Dr. Thorne folded her hands in her lap. “That sounds incredibly difficult, Willow. Shutting down is a response to stress that many people experience. When you feel overwhelmed or threatened, your mind is trying to protect you. It’s a survival mechanism that you had to use to endure what happened with Niko.”
“Is it really?” Willow asked.
“Yes, it’s a very common response,” Dr. Thorne affirmed. “In those moments, your body decides that the best course of action is to conserve energy and minimize potential harm. It’s an instinctive, automatic reaction that you’ve developed over time.”
“So, I’m not broken?” Her voice hitched.
“Far from it,” Dr. Thorne said warmly with a gentle smile. “Your reactions have been a form of self-protection. Now we work toward understanding them better, so you can start to feel more in control when they happen.”
Tears began to pool in Willow’s eyes, the realization washing over her. The walls she had built, brick by emotional brick, weren’t necessary shields any longer. They were remnants of a past self who had to put them up to protect herself.
“Though it is okay to start working on letting those walls down again,” Dr. Thorne said gently. “You’re safe here.” Her voice was a soft hum, comforting and familiar. “Let yourself feel whatever it is that’s trying to surface.”
The tears flowed over, and a sob caught in her throat.
“Embrace what you feel,” Dr. Thorne encouraged, handing her a box of tissues. “It’s the path to healing.”
Willow dabbed at her eyes. She hesitated, her thoughts snagging on Eli—Eli with his piercing eyes that seemed to see right through her defenses. Eli, who always seemed intent on protecting her. His touch that made her feel so safe and alive again.
“I don’t know what to do about Eli,” Willow confessed. “We have this...connection. It’s sweet and wonderful and—if I’m honest, it scares me.” She dabbed at her cheeks with the tissue. “It’s like when this happened with Buck, I just felt weak all over again, and told him we need space.”
“Because you’re afraid of getting hurt?” Dr. Thorne prompted.
“Partly,” Willow admitted, playing with the tissue in her hand. “But also, because I do care for him. I realize now how pretending was just a way to experience him with all the safety nets. I want that closeness, that realness he offers. It’s just—” She paused, her sob breaking, “I’m scared of losing myself again. Of disappearing into someone else’s shadow.”
“Your fears are valid, of course they are, Willow. But remember,” Dr. Thorne said with gentle firmness, “you’ve emerged from that shadow. You’re standing in your own light now, even if it doesn’t always feel that way.”
Willow absorbed the words, letting them seep into all the broken parts of her heart.
“None of this is easy,” Dr. Thorne began. “Healing isn’t linear. It weaves through our lives at its own pace. You’ve taken incredible strides, but it’s okay to take your time to understand what you’re feeling. And if Eli truly cares about you, he will understand this.”
“Okay,” Willow said with a sniff.
Dr. Thorne smiled gently. “It’s okay to be unsure, to have days where you feel like you’re moving backward. It feels uncomfortable in this state that you’re in because of what happened with Niko. It’s all part of the process. What’s important is that you prioritize yourself, your well-being.”
“Can I...just let things unfold?” she asked.
“Absolutely,” Dr. Thorne assured her. “You don’t have to rush or force answers. They will come to you in time, and you’ll know what to do when they do. Just let yourself breathe, Willow.”
Inhaling deeply, she let the air fill her lungs, let it reach the deepest parts of her where fear and hope danced. There was a release in the exhale, letting it all go, feeling lighter, freer.
“Let things be,” she said aloud, tasting those words. It was so easy to forget she didn’t have to have all the answers to her trauma and how to move forward.
“Let things be,” Dr. Thorne repeated with a kind smile. “And don’t forget, you are doing the work and strengthening your soul because of it. You have the power to shape your own future. It’s in your hands, not anyone else’s. You’ve already taken back so much of what was wrongfully claimed from you.”
The air around Willow seemed to shimmer as she took in the truth of those words. I have the power to shape my own future.
Eli’s grip tightened on the reins as he led the new colt he was training back to the paddock, the horse’s hooves crunching against the snow. The sun hung low, casting a golden glow over the ranch, but the beauty of the afternoon couldn’t ease the turmoil churning inside him. Thoughts of Willow spiraled through his mind, fierce and unbidden, threatening to break wide open.
He could feel her in every part of him—her laughter echoing in his ears, her warm eyes haunting his dreams. But with those thoughts came the reality, sharp and relentless. He was a man who had ridden bulls, faced down danger without a second thought, yet the idea of hurting Willow left him feeling unsure in his steps forward.
“Eli,” Jaxon called out as he and Gunner approached, his eyes narrowing with concern. “You look like you’ve just gone ten rounds with a grizzly.”
“Feels like it too,” Eli muttered, releasing the horse into the paddock. He watched the colt trot away before turning to face his friends. Jaxon leaned against the fence, while Gunner stood beside him.
“Talk to us, man,” Gunner urged, his voice laced with a seriousness that belied his usual easy grin. “We heard Willow came by.”
“She did,” Eli countered, his jaw set. “We’re taking a step back. We both know neither of us was ready for anything beyond a fake relationship. Just can’t avoid that anymore.”
Jaxon frowned. “It’s pretty clear to everyone you two are the real deal.”
“Maybe we are. Maybe we’re not,” Eli said, “But there’s a reason I’ve been single, and that reason is glaringly obvious now. The last thing I want to do is hurt Willow because I don’t have my shit together. She deserves to be with someone solid.”
Neither of them could argue with that.
Though Gunner just said, “I know you’re going through it, but don’t let your fears rob you both of something real.”
Eli looked between his two friends, their faces earnest and supportive. They were right, of course—he knew it deep down. Willow had somehow breached the walls around his heart, and now the thought of losing what they had was unbearable.
But what did that change?
Not a damn thing.
“I need to head to the hardware store,” he said, avoiding the topic altogether.
They both shook their heads at him but stayed silent.
Eli made his way to his truck, the sound a steady reminder that he was walking away from more than just the ranch. His friends’ words echoed in his mind, but it was the memory of Willow’s smile, the one that shined with her incredible heart, that clenched his heart with an iron grip.
He climbed into the truck, determined to get his mind on something else. The hardware store had always been his refuge. He had some projects he needed to work on at the house—and working with his hands always quieted his mind.
The drive was short, too short for Eli’s liking, and before he knew it, he was pulling up to an open parking spot in front of The Book Bean. It wasn’t part of the original plan, but the thought of warm coffee sliding down his throat, bitter and strong, was too tempting to ignore.
Stepping inside, the café enveloped him in its cozy embrace. The scent of freshly ground coffee beans hit him first. Soft murmurs of conversation played background to the gentle clink of porcelain. The warmth of the room, filled with rustic bookshelves and worn leather armchairs, welcomed him.
The owner of the café, Isabella, gave him a wave as she brewed a cappuccino. He knew her from high school, when she dated Jaxon.
He waved back. “Black coffee, please,” he ordered, his voice rougher than he intended.
The barista nodded and went about preparing his drink.
When she returned with his coffee, Eli found a secluded corner. He settled into the chair, leaving his coat on. Not planning to stay long, he took his cell from his pocket to respond to the emails he heard dinging in his inbox on the drive. Emails from potential horse buyers awaited his attention.
As he typed responses, he sipped the scalding liquid, welcoming the burn, when the chime above the door sang out. Eli’s thumb was still over his phone as a gust of laughter and conversation swept through the room. The Empowerment Elves ladies filtered in with a flutter of excitement, their hands filled with bags of yarn, felt and an array of colorful craft supplies.
“Isabella!” Willow’s voice, clear and bright, cut through the hum of the café. “How’s the little one?”
“Growing faster than a weed,” replied Isabella, her warm brown eyes crinkling at the corners. A child that Jaxon had helped birth on the side of the road when Isabella and her husband couldn’t make it to the hospital on time.
“That’s so great,” Willow said. “Thanks again for your coffee donations for the Christmas market. We’ve got them all bundled up with ribbon and bells. They look great.”
“Wonderful news,” Isabella said. “I’m so pleased. I heard there was an incident at the bar. Are you all okay?”
“We’re all good now,” Willow said. “We’re just busy trying to fix some of the crafts that got damaged before the market.”
Conversation soon turned into orders, and then the group began leaving the coffee shop.
As Willow turned, her gaze landed on Eli, her eyes widening before her face transformed into her sweet, gentle smile. She raised her hand in a wave, and time slowed, every second feeling like a minute longer.
Eli felt his chest tighten, the sight of her like a punch to his gut—a mixture of elation and dread. He acknowledged her with a nod, the corners of his mouth lifting in a faint smile that he could not truly feel. The warmth that radiated from their connection seared through him, even as he realized the coldness of the distance between them.
And damn it all, he hated that he might be losing the best thing to ever happen to him.
“Come on, Willow,” someone called, drawing her attention back to the group, but not before Eli caught the flicker of something unsaid in her eyes—something that made him wish he could cross that distance in one stride and never look back.
But then she was gone.
As the hum of the Christmas craft support group faded as they left the café, Eli tried to refocus on his screen, to lose himself in the mundane task of responding to emails. But the words blurred, his hand shaking.
The chime of the door signaled someone’s arrival. Betty, with her gentle demeanor and knowing eyes, stepped back into the café, her hands patting down her jacket pockets. “Oh, fiddlesticks,” she muttered under her breath, scanning the area until her gaze landed on the forgotten gloves resting on the counter.
Eli watched as she retrieved them. Then, unexpectedly, her path veered toward him. “Eli, dear, I don’t suppose you could do me a favor?” she asked.
“Of course, Betty,” he said. “What do you need?”
“Could you give me a ride the day after tomorrow? Around 10:00 in the morning? I’ll meet you here.” She clasped her gloves to her chest, a hopeful tilt to her head.
“Sure, I can do that. But where to?” Eli asked, his curiosity piqued, not just by her request but also by the twinkle of mischief he thought he saw dancing in her eyes.
“Just a little errand in town. I’ll explain everything on the way,” she assured him, her smile mischievous.
“All right. I will see you then,” Eli said, though he couldn’t shake the feeling that Betty’s simple request wasn’t all what it seemed to be.