Chapter 40
Vivian
Three Months Later
It’s been about three months since Miles’s accident, and here we are celebrating his recovery with a good old family barbecue.
I watch as Riley carefully drops a dollar into the “rude word” jar, her little face scrunched up in the most serious concentration.
It’s a moment so simple, yet so full of warmth, that I can’t help but laugh softly under my breath.
Miles catches my eye, grinning at me, his gaze softening in that way that always catches me off guard.
“You’re going to make her rich, man.” My dad chuckles from the barbecue, the sound of sizzling steaks filling the air.
Miles grumbles under his breath, looking over at Riley as she giggles, clearly proud of her contribution to the jar.
“It’s a habit,” he mutters, shaking his head, though I can see the hint of amusement in his eyes.
“Yeah, well, at least you’re setting a good example,” I tease, leaning against the chair.
The afternoon sun casts a golden glow over everything, and there’s a peacefulness to the air, a kind of serenity that’s settled over us.
For the first time in weeks, I can breathe easy.
The weight of the past few months, Miles’s injury, the uncertainty, the emotional roller coaster seems a little lighter today.
We’re here. We’re together.
I glance over at Miles. His muscular frame is stretched out on the grass, his hat pulled low over his eyes, the faintest trace of a smile still tugging at his lips as he watches Riley.
It’s raw, it’s real, and it makes my chest tighten in a way I didn’t know was possible.
“You okay?” I ask softly, nudging him gently with my foot.
He looks up at me, eyes crinkling at the corners.
“I’m good,” he says, his voice low, but there’s an honesty in it that makes me smile. “Really good.”
Riley, her face covered in sunscreen and dirt from her afternoon adventures, suddenly stops in front of us, her little hands on her hips.
“Mommy, can we eat now?” she asks, her voice full of excitement.
I laugh, nodding. “In just a minute, sweetie. Grandpa’s cooking some food.”
Her little face scrunches up in frustration, but I can see the twinkle of mischief in her eyes.
She’s got Miles wrapped around her finger, I can’t help but smile.
This, right here, is what I never knew I needed.
The simplicity. The quiet moments. The small joys.
Miles, Riley, my dad, everything feels like it’s fallen into place.
“You know…” I start as I watch Riley run off to collect more “rude words” for the jar. “I never imagined things would turn out like this…but I’m so glad they did.”
His hand finds mine, a soft squeeze, grounding me.
“I wouldn’t have it any other way, Bambi.”
“Okay, food’s ready, everyone!” Dad shouts, his voice booming across the backyard, the sound carrying through the late afternoon air.
The sun is beginning to dip, casting a golden hue over the lawn, and the faint hum of the neighborhood mixed with the soft chirp of crickets fills the space.
The smell of grilled steak and vegetables drifts through the air, making my stomach rumble.
Mindy and Greg come up behind Dad, carrying the drinks. Greg’s got the cooler slung over his shoulder, his eyes already searching for a seat as he nudges Mindy playfully with his elbow. She’s laughing, trying to get the drinks in order, and of course, Greg can’t resist teasing her.
“Careful, Mindy, if you spill that drink, I might have to start charging for the service,” Greg says with a smirk, as he finds his spot and leans back in his seat like he owns the place.
Mindy rolls her eyes as she takes the seat next to him shooting him a playful glare. “Oh, trust me, if I spill it, you’ll be the first to clean it up,” she retorts with a wink.
The chemistry between those two is so obvious, I’m almost waiting for them to just admit what everyone already knows.
Greg grins as he tosses his arm around Mindy’s shoulder. There’s a small silence before Mindy leans in and whispers something in his ear, causing him to laugh so loudly that Riley stops mid-sentence to look at him, her little brow furrowing in curiosity.
“What’s so funny?” she asks, her wide eyes sparkling with that infectious curiosity only a five-year-old can have.
Greg shakes his head, grinning. “Nothing, kiddo. Just an inside joke.”
Riley shrugs and feeds Tucker a piece of sausage. “Is that good, boy?” she asks, smiling when he wags his tail like he’s just been handed a five-star meal.
My dad groans. “Stop feeding the damn dog,” he mutters, shaking his head as he comes to a stop beside Tucker—who’s now wagging his tail like he’s found a new best friend.
Dad’s face hardens for a moment, but I catch the faint curve of a smile when Tucker flops onto his back, paws in the air, waiting for a belly rub.
“You’re lucky you’re cute,” he grumbles, giving in with a sigh as his hand finds Tucker’s fur.
I can’t help but chuckle softly.
Riley straightens, eyes bright with excitement. “Next time, we should ride all the horses! Even the ones that bite! I bet Miles can teach me how to do a rodeo trick!”
“Oh, you don’t want to get in the way of my bull-riding skills,” Miles jokes, shaking his head and trying to suppress his laugh. “I’d probably just throw you off and you’d land in a haystack, if you’re lucky.”
Riley’s eyes widen at the thought. “Would you really throw me off, Miles?” she asks, seriously contemplating the possibility.
“Nah,” he says, grinning. “I’d let you win.”
She beams. “Deal!”
Everyone laughs at that, the sound warm and familiar, like a song you’ve heard a hundred times but can never get tired of.
Dad’s sitting at the end of the table, grinning widely as he digs into his plate of food. “You should’ve seen your mom at your age, Riley,” he begins, waving his fork for emphasis. “She thought she was a tough cookie, always getting into trouble. One time—”
“Dad, don’t embarrass me,” I interrupt with a laugh, holding my hand up in mock horror.
Greg’s head snaps up. “Wait, tell me more about this ‘trouble’ Vivian got into. I need to know about her past. The more I know, the better I can blackmail her,” he teases, his eyes twinkling.
“Trust me, Greg, you don’t want to know,” I warn with a playful smile.
“Oh, I think I do.” He grins, leaning forward.
Mindy snorts as she passes the potatoes. “Oh, I’ve heard some stories. No blackmail needed. I already have all the juicy details.”
“You’ve got to be kidding me,” I mutter, laughing along with everyone.
Meanwhile, Riley’s still chattering away about horses, but now she’s weaving a story about how she and Miles will team up to save the farm from an evil villain—whom, of course, she decided will be Greg. He doesn’t mind at all. If anything, it just adds to the fun of the whole day.
Miles nudges me softly with his elbow, his smile softening as he looks at Riley. “She’s going to be a handful when she grows up, isn’t she?”
I glance over at her, and my heart swells. “I’m afraid so,” I reply, voice thick with affection. “But I wouldn’t want it any other way.”
Greg raises his glass of beer in a mock toast. “To Riley’s future bull-riding career…and to Miles being her backup,” he says, his grin spreading as he looks at the rest of us.
“I’ll drink to that.” Miles chuckles, lifting his own drink.
We all clink our glasses together, the sound of friendship, laughter, and belonging filling the air.
The sun continues to set behind us, casting everything in that golden light that feels like magic, like we’ve found our place in the world.
And in this moment, with everyone I love here with me, I can’t help but feel like I’m exactly where I’m supposed to be.
* * *
“Bye, Mommy!” Riley shouts, waving from the porch, her little hand flapping in the air while my dad stands behind her with a proud grin. Her hair’s in a messy ponytail, her socks don’t match, and there’s jam on her cheek.
Miles and I back out of the driveway, the crunch of gravel filling the silence that sits between us. We haven’t really had much time alone since his injury, so Dad insisted we take a night for ourselves. Said Riley would love a sleepover with Grandpa, and judging by her excitement, he wasn’t wrong.
Still, as soon as we turn onto the main road, guilt creeps in. It always does.
It’s that quiet ache that presses behind my ribs, whispering that I should be there. That maybe wanting time alone—just for me, just for us—is selfish.
“See you tomorrow, sweet girl!” I call through the open window, leaning halfway out to wave until Riley and Dad disappear from view. Miles reaches over, his fingers slipping around mine, thumb tracing slow circles over my palm.
The sun dips low behind the hills, painting the sky in shades of orange and pink. The world around us glows soft and familiar, rolling mountains, whispering trees, the endless calm of Bluebell Hollows wrapping us in that small-town kind of comfort.
It’s peaceful. Honest. The kind of stillness that makes you breathe a little easier.
We drive in silence for a while, stealing soft glances that say more than words ever could. Ten minutes later, the road curves, and his house comes into view—a cozy, modern ranch with warm light spilling from the windows and a front porch that looks like it’s seen more laughter than silence.
It’s strange. I haven’t stayed away from home in years, and I thought it’d feel foreign—unsettling, even—to sleep somewhere that isn’t mine. But sitting beside Miles, the hum of his truck fading as he parks, I realize something quietly certain: wherever he is, I feel safe.
“You okay about this?” he asks, turning off the engine, his voice soft but searching.
“About staying over with you?” I ask, smiling faintly. “And being away from Riley?”
He nods.