She exhaled slowly, her shoulders sinking. “All of this is dragging up the same awful feelings Buck brought out in me. The self-doubt, the shame. And I hate it. I hate that I’m still letting them affect me.”
She pulled up the sleeve of my T-shirt.
“And now… this.”
Her bicep was already bruising in the distinct shape of handprints.
“I can’t wear long sleeves during a Texas summer. How do I explain this to people? What do I say, that I hugged myself too hard?”
She hopped off the counter, turned her back to me, and lifted the shirt higher.
“And what about these?”
Dark splotches scattered across her back, right where he must’ve slammed her into the countertop.
“Ellie…” I growled, the sound barely human.
“Not now,” she said, spinning to face me. Her voice cracked. “I’m not saying you won’t get the revenge you so desperately want… but not now. Please.”
God, I wanted to rip the pain right out of her chest and carry it for her. She didn’t deserve this. She never had. I would’ve given anything to make it all disappear, but I didn’t know how.
“I want a break,” she said quietly. “I want to be able to trust again. To love and just… be okay.” Ellie let out a frustrated grunt and threw her head back against the cabinets, her voice cracking with emotion.
“You will,” I said gently, my voice sure, even if hers wasn’t.
She shook her head. “Doesn’t feel like it.”
And just like that, an idea hit me.
“Let’s leave.”
Her head snapped toward me, brows furrowed. “Leave?” she repeated, incredulous. “Like, your house? Logan, did you not see the bruises I just showed you? How the hell am I supposed to go out in public?”
I stood to my full height, crossing my arms. “No, I mean leave Faircloud. Just for a few days, or even the week.”
Ellie blinked, her expression tight with disbelief. “I already left once. And when I came back, nothing was different. I can’t go again, people are going to talk. They’ll know when I’m not at Petal Pusher working—like when I left the farm stand.”
“That was then. This is now. And let’s be honest,” I added, jaw tightening, “if I stay here and see Miles again anytime soon, I can’t promise I won’t do something I’ll regret.”
She looked at me for a long moment, and I could see the wheels turning in her head. From the outside, maybe it looked like we were running—but to me, it felt more like choosing peace. Time. Space. A breath before the storm of questions and having to face something that won’t be easy.
“We give the bruises time to fade,” I said, softer now. “No explanations. No pressure. Just time. When we come back, you can talk to everyone on your own terms.”
Her fingers tapped against the counter. “What about the flower shop? The ranch? We both have responsibilities. They are going to wonder where we went.”
“If there’s one thing I know about our people,” I said, “it’s that they show up. No questions asked. We’ll say we need time and that’s all they’ll need to hear. Let me handle it.”
Ellie stood with her lips pressed together in thought.
“I know you left once before,” I added, “but this isn’t the same. This time, you’re not leaving alone. You’re going with me. And we’re going to have fun.”
Her eyes finally lifted to meet mine, and for the first time since she walked through my door, there was a flicker of something brighter. Not quite hope, but maybe the possibility of it.
“Where did you have in mind?” she asked.
“My mom’s got a show in Florida,” I said. “We could make it a road trip. Stop along the way, hit the beach for a few days, circle back in time for the rodeo, then come home.”
It wasn’t a perfect plan, but I didn’t care. I just needed to get her out of here—and selfishly, I wanted her to myself for a little while longer.