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The farm was quiet at this hour, the world stripped down to the simple sounds of crickets chirping and the soft rustle of the wind through the trees. I pressed the throttle harder, the four-wheeler kicking up a small trail of dust as I made my way down the worn dirt path.

The farther I went, the lighter my chest felt. The house, the conversation with Thad, the strange weight of knowing Wells was out on a date—it all faded into the background. Here, surrounded by nothing but open land and sky, I could just be.

When I reached the flower field, I slowed to a stop and killed the engine. The sudden silence rang in my ears, thick and heavy. The flowers stretched out in front of me, their soft petals glowing under the moonlight, a sea of delicate color swaying gently in the night breeze.

I swung my leg over the four-wheeler and stepped into the field, letting my fingers graze the tops of the blossoms. The scent of lavender and wildflowers filled the air, warm and familiar. It smelled like peace. Like something untouched by the chaos of the real world.

With a sigh, I dropped down in the middle of the flowers, feeling the earth cool and firm beneath me. The sky above was endless, littered with stars that felt almost too bright, too sharp against the inky blackness.

I reached for the bottle of wine, twisting off the cap with ease.

“To making bad decisions,” I muttered, raising it slightly before taking a long, slow sip. The red wine burned warm as it slid down my throat, and I let my head fall back against the soft grass.

Everything felt quieter here.

Easier.

And for just a little while, I let myself pretend I wasn’t coming apart at the seams.

I took another sip of wine. Then another. The warmth spread through my chest, but it wasn’t enough to drown out the ache clawing at my ribs.

Lying there in the middle of the flowers, I let my fingers drift over the petals, tracing the delicate edges. Everything felt too quiet, too still. Like the night was holding its breath, waiting for me to shatter.

My mind wouldn’t stop spinning.

Thad’s voice echoed in my head, smooth and careful, just like always.

“Come back home. We should talk. I’m your only option.”

God, what a load of shit.

I pressed the heel of my hand against my chest, trying to push away the weight settling there. The worst part? Some small, stupid part of me still wanted to believe him.

I squeezed my eyes shut, but that only made it worse. Because then I wasn’t just hearing his voice—I was seeing it all. Every moment that led me here, lying in a field with a bottle of wine and a heart stitched together with frayed thread.

The late nights waiting for him to come home. The empty apologies. The way he made me feel small, like I was something to be tolerated instead of cherished.

And then—Wells.

His steady hands. The way he looked at me like I was someone. Like I mattered.

A tear slipped down my temple, disappearing into my hairline. Then another. I curled my fingers into the earth, gripping it like it could hold me together. But the dam was breaking, and I was powerless to stop it.

I let out a shaky breath. Then, before I could think twice, I opened my mouth and screamed into the night.

“Why me?”

My voice cracked on the last word, splintering into the darkness like glass shattering on concrete. The sound felt too big for my body, too raw. It ripped straight from the deepest part of me, the part I kept locked up, buried beneath every forced smile and quiet nod.

The wind carried my voice away, but the pain still sat heavy in my chest.

I sucked in a sharp breath, my shoulders shaking.

No one answered.

Of course, no one answered.

I was alone.