Chapter 3
Autumn
The aroma of roasted coffee beans and freshly baked scones greeted Autumn as she stepped into Bell his lips were on hers—warm, insistent, familiar. The kiss felt like the answer to every unspoken question that had lingered between them for years.
The moment interrupted when Mr. Buttercup let out a loud bleat and nosed his way between them, radiating irritation. Graham pulled back, laughing breathlessly as the goat butted his leg.
He rubbed the back of his neck. “Guess he’s not a fan of competition.”
Autumn laughed, though her cheeks burned. “He’s got terrible timing.”
The rain had slowed to a gentle drizzle by the time they left the barn. The air, thick with the scent of damp hay and rain-soaked earth, felt heavier now. Each step on the gravel path seemed to echo louder than it should, amplifying the silence between them.
Autumn walked beside Graham, the kiss still lingering in the charged space between them. Her heart teetered between racing ahead and freezing entirely, unsure which path to take. She opened her mouth, wanting to ask him what it meant, but the words wouldn’t come.
His phone buzzed, the sharp sound cutting through the stillness, silencing her attempt to speak. Graham pulled it from his pocket, his brow furrowing as he read the screen. “I need to take this,” he said, stepping away without waiting for a response.
Her chin dipped in a quiet nod as he strode ahead. Tension coiled in his shoulders, his grip tightening around the phone as he pressed it to his ear. His voice, urgent, carried back to her but she couldn’t make out the full conversation, just fragments.
“Yes, I understand . . . no, that’s not ideal, but we’ll adjust if needed.”
Autumn quivered and her mind raced, filling the blanks with worst-case scenarios. What happened? Is it his father? A job offer? The moments stretched painfully, each second adding another layer of doubt to the fragile hope she’d been clinging to.
When Graham returned, his expression was carefully neutral, as though he were trying to shield her from whatever news he’d just received. “Everything okay?” she asked, cautiously.
Another buzz of the phone and he glanced at the screen, his jaw clenching. “Sorry,” he muttered. “I have to take this.” Without another word, Graham left her standing by the barn.
Autumn lingered where she was, her arms wrapped around her chest as pieces of his conversation drifted back to her. Words like “relocation” and “opportunity” hung in the air, each one dragging her spirit down. Her pulse quickened. Is he already planning to leave again? Is history repeating itself?
His shoulders were hunched, and his eyes held a weariness she hadn’t seen before. “I have to go. It’s my pops.”
With a lump in her throat, she answered, “Of course.”
Graham hesitated, as though he wanted to say more, but he only gave her an apologetic smile. “I’ll call you,” he added, though it sounded more like a question than a promise.
“Right.” She forced the word, which felt hollow and echoed in the space between them as he turned and walked away. His retreating figure blurred against the rain.
As the taillights of his car disappeared, Autumn froze in place.
The rain had stopped entirely now, leaving behind a quiet so profound it felt almost deafening.
Her hands formed fists at her sides as a wave of anger and sadness surged through her.
How could I be so foolish to think things would be different this time?
She glanced at Mr. Buttercup and his silly bow tie markings, a few feet away, chewing contentedly on a stray bit of hay. “Well,” she muttered, trembling with forced humor, “at least I can count on you to stick around.”
The goat bleated in response, his ears twitching as though he’d understood her perfectly. The night settled around her, cold and uncertain, as she wondered whether she’d made a mistake letting Graham back into her life.