Eventually, Cole snapped.
“Look, assholes,” he said, slamming his good fist on the table. “I’m exhausted. My arm is broken. I’m missing a lens. And my allergy meds haven’t kicked in yet. So piss off while we take a hot minute to breathe. Once we do, then you can come back groveling and begging us not to talk to the media.”
Then he stood up and walked out.
Val and I followed without being stopped. We’ve been sitting in the truck since then. Silent.
There should be more of us sitting here.
How am I going to face Drew’s parents?
I watch the men move around the tent in the distance, my arm locked around Val, my other hand still sticky with my own blood. Quarantine signs flap in the early morning breeze. The patch disappears piece by piece beneath plastic and canvas, sealed off like it never existed.
“What now?” I ask.
She sighs, then lifts her head just enough to look at me, chin still resting on my shoulder like she did when we shared her earbuds.
Was that yesterday?
Feels like a year ago.
Her eyes lock on to mine, sure in a way that feels new. “I’m not sure. But I think I know what I want to go into.”
I grin. Of course she came up with her life plan while we were battling for our lives.
There’s a sharp little spark in her eyes. “Horticulture.”
I laugh, which turns into a coughing fit as my smoke-scorched lungs protest. I bend forward, hacking, until I finally catch my breath. When I do, I pull her in close and kiss her, deep and unguarded.
“I can only imagine the hell you’d give that industry,” I say against her mouth.
She shrugs, smiling wide. “Someone has to make sure this never happens again.” She glances back at the men in suits, phones pressed to their ears as they direct workers around the farm. “Besides, I plan to make Smiling Seeds pay for everything I ever want. They basically have to after all the hell we’ve been through. Then I’ll use their money to absolutely fuck them over in the future.”
God, I love this girl.
I kiss her temple. “Then maybe I’ll go into law. Make sure we can sue the shit out of companies that screw people over.”
Her brows lift, eyes bright despite everything. “I think we might be onto something.”
I take her hand and pull it across my chest, pressing her palm over my heart.
“Together,” I say.
She leans in and brushes a soft kiss to my lips. “Together.”
Her head settles back on my shoulder, comfortable now.
“You know,” she adds casually, “the University of Arkansas School of Law has an LLM in Agricultural and Food Law.”
I snort. “Of course you’d know that.”
She laughs and squeezes me tighter.
For the first time since everything burned, the future doesn’t feel empty.
I look over the top of Val’s head at Cole. “What about you?”
Cole shrugs, eyes half closed. “No idea. But I’m staying as far away from pumpkins as humanly possible.” He sneezes and shoves his glasses up his nose.