No. Not here. Not now.
I yanked the wheel right, pulling into an empty parking spot in front of the bakery. The truck lurched to a stop. I shoved the gearshift into park and gripped the steering wheel, staring at my knuckles.
Breathe. Just breathe.
But the air wouldn't come. My lungs hitched, catching on something jagged and sharp.
He'd dismissed me. Like I was a kid asking to help with the grown-up work. Like my offer meant nothing.
Like I mean nothing.
The tightness in my chest twisted into something familiar. Something I'd felt a hundred times before, sitting across from my ex at dinner while he explained—so patiently, so kindly—why my ideas wouldn't work.
“That's sweet, Rosie, but maybe think it through a little more.”
“I'm just trying to help you be realistic.”
“You're being emotional again.”
My breath came in short, shallow gasps. I pressed my palms against my eyes, trying to stop the burning.
I'd moved here to get away from that. From feeling small. From second-guessing every word before I spoke. From the constant weight of not being enough.
But here I was again. Different town. Different man. Same crushing feeling of beingdismissed.
Get it together, Rosie. You're fine. You're?—
A sharp tap on the window made me jump so hard I cracked my elbow on the door.
I dropped my hands, blinking rapidly as a woman peered through the glass, concern written across her face.
Drawing in a shaky breath, I wiped at my eyes and leaned across the seat. My fingers fumbled with the window crank, turning it until the glass lowered halfway. I blinked a few more times, willing my vision to clear, and managed what I hoped passed for a smile.
“Hi.” The woman tilted her head, blonde hair catching the afternoon light. Something familiar in the angle of her jaw, the set of her shoulders.
Then recognition clicked into place. Emily Spencer.
One of those older girls from my childhood summers—confident, capable, always knew exactly what to do. She studied me through the open window, her sharp blue eyes taking in everything I didn't want her to see.
Right now, I felt about twelve again.
“Rosie, right?” Emily's expression softened. “Walt's niece?”
“That's me.” I swiped at my face, hoping my eyes weren't as red as they felt.
Emily studied me for another moment. “You okay?”
No. Absolutely not.
“Totally fine.” The words came out too bright, too fast. “Just farm stuff. You know how it is.”
“I really don't.” Emily's mouth curved into a wry smile. “But I know what 'totally fine' looks like, and that's not it.”
Something between a laugh and a sob escaped before I could stop it.
Pull it together. You're not falling apart over some grumpy vet who thinks you're incompetent.
Emily's smile faded. “Come on. Get out of the truck.”