Page 51 of The Lilac River

"Is that why you finally left?"

"No." I hugged a cushion to myself, enjoying its warmth and comfort. "I left when I realized I was turning into someone I didn't recognize anymore. This quiet, agreeable version of myself who was afraid to speak up." My voice cracked. "I caught myself rehearsing conversations with him in my head, planning exactly what to say so he wouldn't be disappointed."

Cassidy leaned forward to squeeze my hand. "Oh, Lily."

"With Nash, even when we were kids, I never had to be anything but myself." Tears pricked behind my eyes. "With Erik, I was always performing. Always falling short."

"And then he fired you."

"The final power play," I said bitterly. "He couldn't control me anymore, so he made sure I had nothing left." I wiped my eyes. "Three years of marriage wiped away like it meant nothing. LikeImeant nothing."

"You deserved better," Cassidy said fiercely.

"I know that now." I straightened my shoulders. "I won't ever let anyone dim my light again."

Cassidy squeezed my hands tighter. "Then maybe it’s time you stop letting fear make your decisions for you."

Her words echoed in the silence of the small apartment, sinking deep into the cracks of my broken heart.

Chapter 20

What Hurts the Most – Rascal Flatts

Nash

Insomnia was hell when you had to be up at five to ride the high ground and check cattle. But it wasn’t just the lack of sleep gnawing at me, it was the way memories had a habit of slipping in when the world was quiet. The kind you tried to bury with hard work and dusty miles, but they still found their way in. Especially the ones with blue eyes and a laugh that still echoed in my chest at the worst times.

We were lucky, though. Our land sprawled far and wide to give me plenty of thinking time. The bonus was that I could do it all on horseback with no one else around. We just raised cattle and trained horses for ourselves, no permits, no off-roaders, just us and the range. We leased a few parcels of land to local farmers but never sold grazing rights. Our cattle could wander for miles, and it was our job to track every damn inch.

Hours in the saddle under a blazing sun wasn’t great after a sleepless night but it certainly salved the soul. Unlike the message I’d gotten from my old man:

The Mayor

Nash, make sure you and your brothers are at the house at seven this evening. We need to talk about the ranch.

No please. No thank you. Just a command like we were soldiers in his private army. When I forwarded it to Gunner and Wilder, they sent back matching middle finger emojis from opposite sides of the property. That about summed up how we all felt about him.

"Another dead calf, Nash," Mitch said, tipping his hat back to wipe the sweat from his brow. "That’s three now."

My stomach sank. "Same as the others?"

"Yep. Mountain lion."

I sighed, dragging a hand down my face. "Shit."

Mountain lion attacks were rare around here, but we had a stubborn one. One that had developed a taste for veal.

"What I wouldn’t give for a quiet hiking weekend in Booney," I muttered. "Not that I could hike far these days."

"Knee giving you grief again?"

"Too many hours in the saddle. Not enough time doing the physical therapy Doc keeps harping about."

Mitch chuckled. "Take an ice bath. Milly swears by ‘em. I think she just likes seeing my balls shrink to bullets."

I laughed despite myself. "Maybe she’s just trying to stop you from knocking her up again."

He tipped his hat. "Too late. Number six is already baking. Getting the snip next week."