Page 79 of Bossy Mountain Daddies
"What I'm saying is," Vanna says finally, "I care about those boys. They're my family. And I hope to hell you're not going to do to them what Miranda did."
Her words hit hard. "I wouldn't?—"
"Maybe not intentionally," she cuts me off. "But your car's getting fixed. You'll have the means to leave soon. And I see the way you flinch when you think about people finding out about your relationship. The way you’re worried about Daniel telling people."
I open my mouth to respond, but the door to the bar swings open, cutting off whatever I was about to say. Jed strolls in, his hands blackened with grease despite an obvious attempt to clean them. He slides onto a stool, his weathered face breaking into a grin.
"Evening, ladies," he says. "Beer please, Vanna. The good stuff, not that piss water you serve the tourists."
Vanna rolls her eyes and grabs a bottle from beneath the counter.
"And guess what, Skye?" Jed continues, turning to me. "That part finally came in. Poppy's all fixed up and purring like a kitten. You can pick her up tomorrow."
The news should thrill me. After weeks of being stranded in Flounder Ridge, my car is fixed. I can leave. Continue on my way to Charlotte's. Get back to my real life.
Instead, all I feel is a hollow pit in my stomach.
"That's... great," I manage, my voice sounding distant to my own ears. "Thanks, Jed."
He launches into details about the repair, but I'm barely listening. All I can think about is Vanna's story, the pain these men experienced when Miranda left. All I can see is the choice looming before me now that my car is fixed: stay in this complicated situation, or leave and risk breaking their hearts all over again.
For the first time since I arrived in Flounder Ridge, the thought of leaving feels wrong. But staying? That terrifies me even more.
Chapter 23
Skye
Istare at the ceiling, watching the faint light of dawn creep across the wooden beams. My eyes burn from lack of sleep, my mind a carousel of what happened yesterday spinning endlessly through the night. Miranda. The pregnancy. Their heartbreak when she left. The way Daniel looked at us all in the parking lot, disgust written across his face. The news that Poppy is finally fixed. Each thought bleeds into the next until they form a single, unavoidable conclusion: I need to leave. Today. Now. Before it gets any harder than it already is.
My throat tightens as I roll over, burying my face in the pillow. This was always temporary, right? A beautiful, unexpected detour on my way to Wyoming.
"They've been hurt before." Vanna's voice echoes in my head. "I hope to hell you're not going to do to them what Miranda did."
I sit up, pushing tangled hair from my face. I'm not Miranda. I'm not sneaking away without a word. But I also can't bear the thought of looking into their eyes and saying goodbye. Griff would be stoic, hiding his hurt behind those intense eyes. Buck would try to make me laugh, make light of it. Ford would say all the right things, understand too well. And I'd crumble. I'd stay. And then what?
Daniel knows about us now. How long before everyone I know back home does too? I can almost hear Charlotte's voice: "I told you that rebound relationships are a bad idea, and you chose three at once."
No. I can't stay. They always knew I was just passing through. It'll hurt less this way, for all of us.
I push off the covers and stand, my legs shaky beneath me. The decision, once made, propels me into action. I grab my bag from under the bed and start gathering my belongings. There's not much—I never planned to stay this long—but somehow my things have spread themselves around the room like they belong here.
I fold each item carefully, packing them away like memories I’ll never forget. My eyes sting and the tears start rolling down my cheeks. Stupid. This was never meant to last. They'll move on. They'll find someone else who can stay, who fits into their world better than I do. Someone who isn't dragging around the baggage of a cheating ex-boyfriend, dead parents, and an unknown future.
The letter. I need to write them a letter.
I sit at the small desk in the corner, pulling out a notepad and pen from the drawer. How do you say goodbye to three men who've shown you parts of yourself you never knew existed? How do you explain leaving when every cell in your body is screaming to stay?
I stare at the blank page, the pen heavy in my hand. The words won't come, tangled in a knot of emotions I can't unravel. I close my eyes, trying to find clarity.
Dear Griff, Buck, and Ford,"I finally write, my handwriting shakier than normal.
By the time you read this, I'll be gone. Poppy's fixed, and I need to continue on my way to Wyoming. I know this is a coward's way out, not saying goodbye inperson, but I'm afraid if I tried, I wouldn't be able to leave at all.
These past weeks have been the most unexpected gift. Each of you has given me something I so desperately needed—safety, laughter, understanding. I'll carry that with me always.
But we all knew this wasn't forever. I haven’t figured out yet where I should be, and you all have your lives here. Daniel knows about us now, and it's only a matter of time before everyone does. I'm not strong enough to face that kind of scrutiny, to be the subject of so much gossip and judgment.
Vanna told me about Miranda. About how she left and what that did to all of you. I'm trying to be better than that, to at least leave you these words. Please know that what we shared was real for me. And I’ll never forget any of it.
