I was raised to be the perfect daughter. The one who would toe the line, make good decisions, and marry well.

And Baz Zimmerman suited the plan perfectly.

Right after my mom passed away, my dad planted the idea in my head that Baz would be perfect for me.

I convinced myself that I could handle it. That Baz was at least tolerable, and eventually, I would grow to love him, but toward the end, I realized I was in over my head.

I swallowed hard, wishing I could take it all back. “I made a mess of everything, and now I don’t know how to fix it.”

Molly’s eyes softened with concern. “I always hoped you would wake up and realize you didn’t owe your dad anything, and you deserved more than what he wanted for you, but I knew you would have to get there on your own.”

I blew out a big puff of air. “I have no idea who I am anymore.”

It felt like all the sacrifices I’ve made over the last five years have been for nothing.

She squeezed my hand. “Then perhaps it’s time you figure that out.”

I gave her a weak smile. “You make it sound easier than it is.”

She was quiet for a minute before she asked, “Do you think you’ll eventually go back to New York?”

“I have no idea.” Just thinking about it stressed me out.

That’s where my home and my job were. I hadn’t let myself think that far ahead.

“You could always stay in Marcellus Falls.”

I blinked, surprised she would even suggest that. “What would I do about work?”

She reached for the wine bottle and poured more into my glass. “The same thing everyone else does. You start by looking for a job.”

She made it seem like it was no big deal.

“Where am I going to find a director of finance job here in Marcellus Falls?”

Her brows lifted. “I’m sure there are opportunities close by.”

“I don’t know,” I mumbled. “Are there any Fortune 500 companies around here that I don’t know about?”

“If there are, I’m sure they will scoop you up in no time.” She smirked.

I closed my eyes and dragged a hand down my face. “Maybe I’ll apply at the hardware store. God knows I’ll be spending enough time there trying to repair the house.”

She sat up and rested her hands on her thighs. “Let me ask you something. If you had the power to do anything, what would it be? What would make you happy?”

That was a good question. I’d spent the last five years structuring my life around schedules and deadlines. It was weird not having an office to go to, meetings to attend, or emails to return. I know that was part of the reason why I came here, to take a break, but now what was I supposed to do?

I spent years chasing a life I was supposed to want: the corner office, the job title, the constant hustle. Now, just thinking about it made me exhausted.

“I have no clue, Molly. I’ve been so focused on doing what was expected of me that I never really considered what I want to do.”

She leaned back and took another sip of her wine. “Okay, then. Let’s start with your hobbies.”

I peered at her over the rim of my glass. “What hobbies?”

She nudged me with her foot. “Come on, Harlow. I’ve known you forever. You weren’t always a corporate robot. What did you love before you started working for your dad?”

I opened my mouth to argue, but she was right. Working long hours and trying to meet deadlines never made me happy. The only time I was happy was when my mom and I would garden together.