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I barely sleep that night. Partly because I’m afraid, but mostly because I can’t stop thinking about Dean.

My head is all over the place. I know I need to tell him the truth, but the idea of actually doing it terrifies me. What if he looks at me differently? What if he decides being with me isn’t worth the risk it could bring to his daughter?

It was easier when I could pretend I’d started over in Hartwell. No one here knew who I was before, and for a while, I almost managed to forget too.

I should’ve known my past would eventually catch up with me.

I roll over and scream into my pillow.

Why me?

Dean told me I didn’t have to answer his message, but how long can I leave him hanging? Asking for space isn’t fair when he doesn’t even know what he’s giving me space from.

Then there’s Aspen.

My little sunflower.

The thought of her is enough to bring every fear rushing back.

I need coffee.

Or tequila.

Probably tequila.

Unfortunately, it’s seven in the morning, which means I need to get dressed and leave for work within the next hour. I also need to plaster a fucking smile on my face and pretend my life hasn’t imploded overnight in front of a room full of six-year-olds.

Yep. Definitely tequila.

Somehow, I manage to get ready and make it out the door on time. Everything outside looks exactly as it did yesterday, before those messages tore my life apart. The sun is shining, the air is growing crisper as we get closer to winter, and the trees have officially lost the last of their leaves.

Hartwell is still the most beautiful place I’ve ever seen.

As I reach my car, movement outside G’s house catches my attention.

“Logan?”

He freezes halfway down her driveway.

Why the fuck is Logan leaving Georgie’s house at eight in the morning?

“Shit.” He turns toward me with an awkward smile. “Hi, Blair Bear. Lovely morning, isn’t it?”

“You fucking idiot,” G calls from her doorway. “I said not to let Blair see you. I didn’t mean stand in the middle of my driveway and have a conversation with her.”

She’s wearing an oversized shirt that, if I had to guess, belongs to Logan.

“Well, fuck. I didn’t exactly plan this, did I, Georgie?” Logan turns toward her and plants his hands on his hips. “I didn’t see her come out.”

I raise my eyebrows at G.

She narrows her eyes and mouths, Don’t.

A laugh threatens to escape me for the first time since last night.

“Happy walk of shame, Logs.” I open my car door. “Bye, G.”