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Mom and Dad simply stare back at me, but for the first time in any of our fights, I feel like my words are sinking in, like they might actually be hearing me.

Mom ducks her head, looking half-guilty, half-frustrated. Dad’s eyebrows are drawn together, staring me down as if trying to solve a puzzle. “Do you really feel that way?”he asks quietly.

I nod. “The only time I’ve been anxious all summer,” I swallow, “was when I thought about coming home.”

Dad flinches ever so slightly, then glances over his shoulder at Mom, who refuses to look up. He looks back to me. “Addie, sweetheart, we don’t want you to be miserable.” He shakes his head. “We just thought that pushing you was the right thing to do.”

“I know,” I say, and I do. I know my parents just want the best for me. But I suppose it’s hard to distinguish what that is when your child is different from you. I look to Mom, who’s still looking at the floor, her arms crossed. “Mom?” I ask hesitantly.

She looks up, her eyes sad. “I’m sorry, sweetie,” she says softly. “For how I acted the other day. You were showing me something you were excited about, and I should have listened.” She takes a breath. Her gaze meets Dad’s, and they share a look. She looks back to me. “If you want to work at Thatcher Ranch, we won’t stop you.”

Shock courses through me. Did she really say what I think she did? My gaze bounces between hers and Dad’s, my mouth parting slightly. “Really? You …?”

Mom gives me a small shrug. “I don’tlikeit … but it’s your decision.”

I nod. I suppose that’s fair.

“One condition,” Dad says semi-sternly.

Anxiety seeps through me, worried he’s going to come up with some way for me to still work parttime atSeattle Luxe, help with brand awareness, attend parties.

But then he says, “You have to visit regularly.”

A shocked laugh bubbles out of me.

“And if you ever change your mind about real estate, you can’t go work for one of our competitors,” he says, which makes me laugh harder.

Mom sighs, grabbing her purse from her desk and striding across the room toward Dad and I. “Let’s go out for lunch,” she suggests, “and you can tell us all about yournew job.”

Chapter 20

Cruz

I spend the rest of the day in solitude, loading up hay bales with the tractor and ferrying them off to the various barns all over the ranch. By the end of the day, I’m tired, sore, and still very, very heartbroken. I skip dinner in the mess hall, not wanting to talk to anyone, and instead make myself some instant ramen in my cabin’s kitchenette.

I throw on some mindless show to distract myself, although it’s not doing that great of a job. Around 10 p.m., I figure I should head to bed, but I know I’ll just lie there wide awake, so I don’t.

At around 10:15, there’s a knock on my door.

My head swivels in the direction of the sound, surprise coursing through me. Who would be at my door in the middle of the night? My first thought is some kind of emergency, so I get up and stride across the floor, swinging the door open without even looking through the window first.

And my heart starts beating again. I blink. “Addison.”

She smiles softly. “Hey.”

I take in the sight of her. She’s got a backpack slung over her shoulder, along with her purse. Her hair is tied back in a ponytail, and she’s wearing those pink cowgirl boots again.

“I went back to Seattle,” she says.

“I know.”

She blinks in surprise. “You do?”

“Tate told me.”

She opens her mouth, but I beat her to it.

“Why are you back?”