by Tara Sheets
So she really was leaving.
Logan gripped the note in his hand, overcome with anger and frustration and guilt and sadness. This place was hers, more than it could ever be his. Even though she’d made it clear she didn’t want him, she could still have the shop. There was no way he’d ever be able to continue running the business without her. He didn’t even want to. She’d poured everything she was into this place.
Logan crumpled the piece of paper in his fist and tossed it in the trash. In two strides, he was out the door and headed to his truck, with only one destination in mind.
Chapter Thirty-Two
The dawn came earlier than usual. Or maybe she just wanted to hide from the things that felt too raw to face in the light. Juliette cracked open one eye and scowled. The sun shoved its way over the horizon, surprising her at its audacity, bathing the world outside her window in rosy streaks until everything glowed fresh and warm and new.
She turned away and drew the covers up under her chin.
Luna meowed loudly from the bedroom doorway.
“I’m not going.”
Another meow.
“Because it’s my day off. I’m going to sleep in like a normal person, for a change.”
A soft growl.
“I am sleeping. Or I would be, if you weren’t bothering me.”
Juliette felt the cat jump onto the bed, stepping gingerly over the coverlet until she reached the pillow. A cold nose nudged her temple.
Mrreow!
“Ugh.” She sat up and rubbed her face. Freaking cat. “Has anyone ever told you that you’re a pain in the butt?”
Luna licked her paw, ignoring her.
“Don’t pretend like you don’t understand me.” Juliette pointed to the cat. “You.” She held her arms out wide. “Big pain.” She pointed to her backside. “Butt.”
The cat turned her back on Juliette and jumped onto the windowsill.
Juliette shook her head, then winced. Her temples throbbed with one of the worst hangovers she’d ever had. It had been a terrible last few days. She’d broken up with Logan, lost her chance at owning the shop and securing her future, and was now soon-to-be jobless. What next?
Her cell phone rang, and she checked it. Romeo.
Nope. She wasn’t up for that conversation. By now, he’d have heard about the after-hours party she’d thrown on the back patio. No doubt, Logan had given Romeo all the details of the disaster, and the mess her little Hollywood “friends” had caused. Romeo was probably calling to tell her not to bother with the two weeks.
“Yesterday was the biggest pile of crap, ever,” she said to Luna’s back.
The cat was clearly sulking, because she didn’t bother turning around.
Juliette raised a hand to her pounding head. “And today’s going to be even worse.”
After zombie-shuffling to the medicine cabinet for some aspirin, she stepped into the shower and tried to scrub herself awake. By the time she emerged ten minutes later, her headache was still going strong but at least she was clean.
She didn’t bother getting dressed, choosing instead to slip on a clean nightgown and towel dry her hair. But the friction of the towel against her pounding head was too much, so she left her hair to dry on its own and padded toward the kitchen. How much did she drink last night?
The phone rang again. Romeo again.
She ignored it. Again.
Coffee, and then she’d figure out what to do. Coffee was nectar of the gods. It always helped. She dug around in the bottom of the canister with a growing sense of dread. The plastic scoop scraped against the empty metal container.
“You have got to be kidding me.” This was boss-level bad. If caffeine didn’t enter her bloodstream within the next five minutes, she was going to implode like a dying star.
Juliette tossed the scoop into the empty canister and turned away in disgust. Her car was still parked outside the shop, which meant she couldn’t leave until Emma showed up later.
What now? Get in bed and ignore the world?
The phone rang a third time. Romeo, of course.
Why not talk to him and get it over with? The conversation would be the rotten cherry on top of her rotten life. She grabbed her cell and jumped in. “Hello.”
“Hey, hun. I’ve been trying to call you all morning,” Romeo said.
He was still calling her hun, even though she’d screwed up royally and he was going to fire her ass. It made it almost worse.
“I was sleeping,” she said in a shaky voice.
“Sleeping? You’re usually up with the sun. Are you sick?”
She took a deep breath. Obviously, he knew she was hungover. Logan would’ve told him everything by now. “What do you want to say, Romeo?”
“I wanted to tell you that Logan came to see me last night.”
Yeah, I’ll bet he did. “Great.”
“And he and I had a long talk.”
“Look, you don’t have to drag it out,” Juliette said. “Just tell me I’m fired.”
“Fired?” Romeo started to laugh. “You’re crazy, hun.”
“You wouldn’t be the first person who’s told me that.”
“Of course you’re not fired. I’m calling to tell you that Logan and I had a long talk about you. We’ve both decided that the shop should be yours. You’re the one who cares most about it anyway, and I know you’ll take good care of it. So I’m calling to find out if you still want it.”
Juliette’s heart did a little tap dance along her rib cage. “What?”
“My florist shop. Logan convinced me that no one can love the business more than you. He said you were the only person who could ever do a better job than me, and I have to agree. To be honest, it didn’t take much convincing on his part. All your hard work and dedication, and the leaps and bounds you’ve made with organization—all of it’s proof that you’re the best fit. So I’m just calling to let you know it’s yours, if you still want it.”
Juliette gripped her phone and gave a tiny exhale. “Yes.”
“I only offered it to Logan because I wanted my nephew to start a life here. He came home with no set plans after leaving the army. I wanted to give him a chance to have roots here again. I thought he wanted to stay, but I was wrong.”
“What do you mean?”
“He said he’s grateful for the opportunity I offered, but it’s not really what he wants. He’s moving to Florida, too.”
Panic sliced through her. “He’s leaving?”
“Yes. He’s putting the house up for sale, just after he finishes dealing with the yard. I guess there’s a sick tree that needs to come down. After that, he’ll be moving on.”
Juliette felt as if a jagged rock was lodged in her throat. She kept trying to swallow around it, but the pain didn’t ease. Romeo kept talking, but she barely heard what he was saying. Somewhere in the back of her mind, she knew she should be thrilled with this news. Her dream of owning the shop was finally happening, but the emptiness eating away at her insides felt nothing like victory, and everything like defeat.
She hung up the phone, cutting Romeo off midsentence, and ran for the door.
Chapter Thirty-Three
Her body ached from the hangover, but Juliette didn’t care. She felt as if someone had run her entire life through a blender with no lid on. Everywhere she turned, everything was a mess.
She ran through the woods to Logan’s house, her mind in a state of chaos. Branches snagged in her hair. Roots caught underfoot. Always before, the natural ebb and flow of nature surrounded her and the trees swayed to let her pass, but today the turmoil inside her was too much to contain. It permeated every thought, every movement. For the first time in her life, she felt out of sync with nature. She was moving too quickly for the breeze to make room for her. The anxious energy flowing through her set the woods on edge. She could feel it, but she had to get to Logan.
She pushed aside a heavy pine branch and sidestepped a fallen log, continuing toward the only thing that t
ruly mattered.
When Romeo told her that Logan had given up the shop and was planning to leave, everything seemed to slow down. When Romeo announced he was leaving the shop to her, she felt a flicker of comprehension followed by a tiny leap of pleasure, but it sputtered and died out. None of it seemed to matter. Logan was leaving.
Juliette ran faster, just a hundred feet away from Logan’s property now. Pain sliced through her throbbing head. She’d forgotten to drink water, which made it even worse, but she didn’t care. She wasn’t even properly dressed, in bare feet and her nightgown, but none of that mattered, either. She needed to talk to him. She needed to tell him so many things.
By the time she emerged onto his property, she was gasping for breath. She ran onto his back porch and banged her fist on the door.
When he didn’t answer, she banged again.
Nothing.
Juliette ran to the front of the house and tried the doorbell, knocking again and again. His truck was in the driveway, so he had to be home. Maybe he was ignoring her. It was a terrible thing to contemplate. Worse, still, was the FOR SALE sign at the end of the driveway.
She slumped against the door. It was all true. He was really leaving. She bumped the back of her head against the door. How had everything gone so horribly wrong?
The door swung open and she stumbled back, catching herself on the door frame. When she turned around, Logan was there.
His hair was damp and he was shirtless, in nothing but a pair of unbuttoned jeans. He held a towel in one hand, and he smelled like fresh soap. His expression was carefully neutral. Controlled.
Juliette swallowed past the ache in her throat. “I thought you weren’t home.”
“I was in the shower.”
She opened her mouth, but nothing came out.
A bird cried somewhere in the distance.
The wind kicked up and Juliette shivered, rubbing one bare foot over the other. Get it together. Say what you need to say. Grow up! “I . . .” She faltered. Tried again. “I just came to say thank you. For convincing Romeo to let me have the shop.”
A slight incline of his head. Nothing else.
She still couldn’t read his expression. It had never occurred to her how good he could be at closing himself off. He’d always been so open with her.
She cleared her throat. “Why did you do it?” Say it was because you want me. Say you’re not leaving. Tell me you’ll stay.
Logan’s eyes were as cold and dark as the sky on a moonless night. “I decided it just wasn’t what I wanted. I thought I could start a life here, but I’ve changed my mind.”
Juliette bit the inside of her cheek, feeling as if the ground was crumbling underneath her.
“Why?” she whispered.
Logan gave a half shrug. “There’s nothing here that interests me. Least of all, the shop. It was always meant for you.”
She crossed her arms, digging her fingernails into her hands. There’s nothing here that interests me. “Logan,” she began. Don’t go. Don’t leave me. Please. “You don’t have to leave.”
“I want to.”
She steadied herself on the door frame.
“I’m heading down to Florida where my parents are,” he continued. “Just as soon as I clean up the yard and . . .” His expression faltered. For the first time since he’d opened the door, Juliette saw pain in his eyes. “As soon as the arborists take down the tree.”
She looked at the dying tree in the yard, its branches brittle and mottled. Dead leaves were piled beneath it. “What about your treehouse?”
Logan’s expression was blank again. “Some things aren’t meant to last, remember?”
They were her own words, and she hated them. She suddenly hated the natural order of things. Why did things have to die? Why did the people she loved always have to leave?
A bolt of shock slammed into her.
Juliette blinked rapidly, stumbling backward. People she loved.
Logan reached out, but she caught herself on the porch railing. “I’m fine.” Except she loved him. She loved him. She felt sick. Anchorless. Like she was careening out into the atmosphere where the air was much thinner and she had nothing to hold on to. She took an unsteady breath.
“Are you sick?” He started to move toward her.
“No.” She held out a hand, as if she could keep her feelings for him at arm’s length. As if somehow, she could save herself from the crushing revelation that, even though she’d been so careful, she lost her heart to him anyway. “I’m just tired.” And also, I’m an utter fool because I love you.
Maybe she should tell him. Maybe it wasn’t too late. Or maybe it was too late, and he’d leave and her heart would crack wide open all over again, just like when she was a kid. Only this time, it would be way worse. This time she truly knew him. They’d shared more than just an awkward teenage kiss. Somehow, without her even realizing it, they’d become wrapped around each other like the vines in her garden—so intertwined that if you tried to untangle one from the other, they’d break.
“Logan,” she began.
“Juliette, don’t. Let’s not draw this out any further than it needs to. We both know this was never going to go anywhere. I only think you knew it before I did. Look, I want you to be happy, and I’m glad you’re getting the shop. You deserve it more than I ever did.”
From inside his house, the phone rang.
“I have to go,” he said. “I’ve got things to take care of.”
“I’m sorry,” she whispered. She didn’t want him to go. She was suddenly a little girl again. Nine years old at her mother’s funeral, watching the coffin lowering into the ground. Watching people scatter soil over the lid. Watching her yellow rose land on the polished casket, its petals breaking off and falling apart. She was suddenly eighteen years old again, waving good-bye to her father. Watching him place the last of his suitcases in the trunk of his car. Feeling Luna’s soft fur rub soothingly against her ankles as her father shut the trunk. Hearing his promise to call, once he reached California. Knowing he probably wouldn’t.
She squeezed her eyes shut and opened them again, trying to see a way out. But all she saw was him. “I don’t want you to leave,” she said shakily.
“Stop,” Logan said. A muscle clenched in his jaw. “Don’t make this more than it is. You were right. I was trying to force things that were just never there. I don’t want to stay anymore. There’s nothing here for me except my dead grandfather’s house and a dying tree.”
Tears pricked the corners of her eyes.
“I’m going,” he said resolutely. “You should go, too.” He backed into the house. “Good-bye, Juliette.”
The door shut on a soft click that hit her like a bullet through the heart.
Chapter Thirty-Four
Juliette backed away, stumbling blindly down the porch steps, making her way through the overgrown grass toward the woods.
Just inside the tree line, she lowered herself to the ground and gasped. What had she done? All this time she thought she’d been shielding her heart from pain. Never letting anyone get too close. Never getting involved. All this time she thought she’d mastered the trick of staying out of the game and staying safe. But now, Logan was leaving for good, and there was a crushing ache inside her chest and limbs that proved she’d been a fool. Somewhere along the way, she’d let him into her heart. That’s why she’d been so happy with him. The thing she’d always been afraid of—being vulnerable—was the only thing that had made it possible.
She pushed to her feet and looked back at the house, the yard, the dying tree.
Some things aren’t meant to last, remember?
But some things were. She understood that now. Some things never went away. Her love for her mother, who’d died too young. Her love for her father, whose grief took him away. Her love for her cousin Emma, and their grandmother who’d left them the Holloway legacy. People came and went, but Juliette’s love for them never wavered. She loved all of them, and that
would never change.
The ancient tree swayed in the wind, its brown leaves rustling on the dying branches.
She stared at it through her tears, her heart aching for the majestic thing it used to be.
Logan loved this tree.
A gust of wind plucked withered leaves from the branches, sending them scattering into the yard.
She loved Logan.
When a small branch snapped and dropped to the ground, Juliette felt as if a dam was cracking inside her. She was suddenly flooded with the desire to make things right. It was too late to fix what she’d broken between them, but she could fix one thing. She could at least prove to him that some things were meant to last. Maybe he’d leave forever, but she could save his tree. Save the memories they’d shared in it. And even though she may never see him again, she’d still have it to remind her.
Juliette wiped a shaking hand over her eyes. Her limbs were weak, and her body was dehydrated, but she didn’t care. Tongue like sandpaper, head screaming in protest, she marched toward the tree with one precious goal. She had to fix it. What mattered was saving the tree. Mother Nature had always been on her side. Juliette knew if she threw her whole heart into it, she could do it. Everything else might be falling down around her, but this one thing, she could fix.
At the base of the tree, she placed her hands on the trunk and closed her eyes, concentrating on the earth beneath her feet, and searching for the spark of recognition—the connection with Mother Nature that always stirred inside her.
When she found it, she pressed her fingers into the bark, throwing her energy into it, straining to connect to the withered fibers and the damaged cells. Without thinking, she climbed higher into the branches, her hands brushing delicately over the brittle limbs. With every breath, she poured everything she had into the ancient tree, willing it to heal.
Again and again, Juliette breathed life into the tree. She could feel the energy from her body flowing into it, healing it from the inside. She was distantly aware of Logan leaving his house, getting into his truck and driving away, but she didn’t have the energy to think about it. With every movement and every breath, she focused on healing. She climbed higher, ignoring the throbbing pain in her body. If she could just save this one thing he loved, then she would have done something right.