Page 57 of Swept for Forever
“Sometimes people confuse hesitation for wisdom. I was one of those fools.” Then she turned and vanished through the door with a final, “Night, Romeo.”
I stared at her empty spot for a long moment.
Dominic Powell, stuck in a dilemma. And I’d always hated those. Dilemmas made you weak. And as the motel queen herself said, hesitation wasn’t wisdom.
But this dilemma?
I wasn’t avoiding it.
I was leaning in.
Because for the first time, I wasn’t afraid Autumn had made the wrong choice trying to kiss me.
I was terrified she hadn’t.
15
AUTUMN
The next morning, I needed something to keep my mind from circling back to Dom. To last night, to the way he’d almostkissed me. Correction:I’dalmost kissed him. So I did the most logical thing. I went shopping.
Luckily, I’d had the sense to wear a crossbody bag on the trail. It kept my phone, my wallet, and everything that still tethered me to real life.
Lulu trotted beside me. Bless Mr. Gunn for thinking one step ahead with the leash. Without it, she’d be halfway across town, charming her way into a free breakfast by now.
I kept pace with her, the crutch tapping along. At this point, I was basically a professional. If crutching were an Olympic sport, I’d at least make regionals. Maybe nationals, if style points counted.
The town center was already alive with motion. On one side, the river curved past the town park, with picnic tables, tire swings, and a few kids tossing bread to ducks. On the other side stretched a line of small shops, their mix of aged brick and sun-warmed wood giving off the kind of charm you couldn’t fake.
The first shop was a corner store, the kind that might still sell you bubblegum for a quarter if you asked nicely. A few doors down, the bakery windows were stacked with cupcakes and donuts so perfectly frosted they looked like they’d been styled by a food blogger. People wandered in and out, clutching coffee cups and crinkled paper bags.
Then I passed the diner. The scent of bacon and fresh coffee drifted into the street. A hand-painted sign out front read:If You Leave Hungry, That’s on You.
Ominous.
I wasn’t in the mood for a big meal. Not even coffee.
A little farther down, I spotted the town’s harvest shop. It must’ve been the place Dom had mentioned. Locals chatted in front of crates overflowing with tomatoes, peaches, and wildflowers, baskets in hand. It was the heartbeat of this town, the kind of rhythm that tempted you to fall in step.
But I kept moving.
Lulu walked close beside me, her gait loose. Still, my guard stayed up. I scanned faces and watched for any shift in energy. But nothing felt off.
Eventually, I ducked into a narrow little boutique that smelled of linen and dried lavender. The woman behind the counter looked effortlessly flawless, with country grace all over her smile.
I wasn’t there for anything in particular. But then I saw it. A floral, flowy dress made for slow afternoons.
It was not something I’d usually splurge on. But I bought it anyway.Because why not?
It was easy to picture myself here, to imagine this life. This version of me.
Even though, before long, I’d be back in Idaho Falls.
That should’ve brought clarity. Instead, it left a pressure in my chest.
I dug through my bag and pulled out the prepaid phone. Dom had picked out a grab-and-go model, exactly what I’d needed. The moment he gave it to me, back when I was still hooked to a drip in the hospital, I’d deactivated all my socials. It might take a while for the platforms to scrub every tag and mention, but eventually, I’d fade into digital anonymity.
For now, I’d use the phone to call my mom.
