I didn't know what to say to that. So I said thank you, grabbed my bag, and headed for the door.
I didn't look at Knox's booth as I passed.
I felt his eyes on me anyway.
***
Outside, the afternoon sun was warm, the sky a perfect, impossible blue. I stood on the sidewalk for a moment, breathing in mountain air, trying to settle the chaos in my chest.
This was fine. I could handle this. Knox and I would coexist in this town like adults, maintaining polite distance until I left and never thought about him again.
I started walking toward Cal's cabin, stopping to look into shop windows and make small talk to locals.
Halfway down Main Street, I saw him again. Helping an elderly woman carry grocery bags to her car.
He was patient with her. Gentle. Bending down to hear something she said, nodding, smiling in a way that transformed his whole face. The woman patted his cheek like he was her favorite grandson, and he ducked his head, almost shy.
This wasn't the Knox I remembered. The Knox I remembered was all edges and defiance, a middle finger raised at a world that had never given him a fair shot. He'd been magnetic and dangerous and utterly incapable of this kind of quiet kindness.
But here he was. Carrying groceries. Smiling at old ladies and fitting into this town like he'd finally found where he belonged.
This was not what I wanted.
I wanted him to be the villain. I needed him to be the villain. Because if he wasn't, then I'd spent eight years hating a man who didn't exist.
And if that man didn't exist, then who had I really been hating all this time?
Our eyes met across the street. For a second, his mask slipped. I saw something raw underneath. Something that looked like longing.
Then it was gone. He nodded once, a brief acknowledgment, and walked away.
I stood there for a long time, watching him disappear around the corner.
He's not who you think he is.
Mae's words echoed in my head, unwanted and impossible to ignore.
Maybe she was right.
Maybe he'd never been who I thought he was.
Chapter 4: Daisy
Aweek passed. Then two.
I settled into a rhythm. Mornings at the clinic, afternoons helping Lila with paperwork, evenings on Cal's porch watching the mountains turn pink and gold. It was quiet. Simple. The kind of life I'd forgotten existed while I was drowning in before.
I didn't see Knox.
That was a lie. I saw him everywhere. His truck parked outside the hardware store. His broad shoulders disappearing around a corner. His voice drifting from the firehouse when I walked past on my way to work.
What I meant was, we didn't speak. We existed in the same small town like two planets in separate orbits, close enough to feel each other's gravity but never colliding.
It was fine. It was what I wanted.
I almost believed that.
Friday afternoon, June showed up at the clinic with a gash on her forearm and a scowl that could curdle milk.