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“No,” I said, sitting up and stretching my arms. “No, it doesn’t.”

She came over to sit with me. “How are you feeling?”

“Better,” I said. “My battery is officially reset.”

“Are you up for a cupcake?” she asked.

“Absolutely,” I said, yawning. She started to get up, but I grabbed her arm.

“Thank you. For understanding and not getting mad that I was ignoring you. I know it doesn’t make a lot of sense, but I’ve worked really hard to listen to my body and my brain and figure out what I need instead of ignoring it and then having a breakdown or panic attack.”

Ryan took both of my hands. “It’s okay, Everly. I know you weren’t ignoring me, and I don’t want you to ever feel like you can’t tell me what you need.”

Her thumbs made soothing circles on the backs of my hands.

“Seriously, though. Thank you,” I said. “It means a lot.”

Before I knew it, hot tears dripped down my cheeks and Ryan was pulling me into her arms.

“It’s okay, shhhh, it’s okay,” she said, holding me.

“I’m sorry,” I said. “I didn’t plan for both of us to cry today.”

She laughed and I sat back, wiping my face.

“Let me get you a tissue.”

“I would have decorated them with candy hummingbirds, but I don’t have the skills to make those,” she said as she presented me with the cupcakes.

“You made hummingbird cupcakes,” I said, remembering that she’d told me about her grandmother who’d made hummingbird cake.

“I did. They’re probably garbage, but there’s only one way to find out,” she said, pushing one toward me. Each one had cream cheese frosting and a candied pecan on top.

“Cheers,” I said, holding my cupcake up and she touched mine with hers.

The cake part was filled with fruit and pecans and balanced perfectly with the frosting.

“This is even better than your lemon ones,” I said.

“Really?” she asked. “You don’t think it’s too…” Ryan trailed off, searching for something wrong with the cupcakes.

“They’re perfect,” I said. “Wouldn’t change a thing.”

She smiled and took another bite.

We went on a walk post-cupcake and this time, Ryan picked the flowers. She’d been quiet for the rest of the day, but I decided to let her be.

“My dad wants me to come back to the company,” she said. “He’s been sending me countless emails about it.”

“Oh,” I said, my stomach sinking. “Have you talked to him?”

“No,” she said, viciously yanking a flower out of the ground. “He keeps telling me that it’s my legacy and that I’m his only child and I’m betraying the family and I just—”

I reached for her hand that was crushing the flowers in her fist.

“Hey,” I said, “don’t take it out on the flowers.”

She let me take them and stood there, her jaw clenched as she started out into the distance.