Page 31 of The Lilac River (Silver Peaks #1)

Family - Chainsmokers

Lily

A s I parked my car outside the grocery store, Nash was still spinning around in my head.

Our meeting earlier had felt almost... normal.

We’d laughed, even if it had been brief and cautious.

I’d started to hope we could find a way to be civil.

Maybe even friendly. But like a switch flipping, I’d seen him close off again.

Like he remembered who I was and what I'd done.

Like I was a bruise he kept pressing, just to see if it still hurt.

I sighed and grabbed my bag. Maybe I’d been kidding myself to think we could be anything other than polite strangers. Maybe all that warmth in his eyes wasn’t forgiveness. Maybe it was just... fatigue. A man too tired to hold on to the anger anymore but still unwilling to let go of the past.

"Hi Lily."

Turning, I found Dolores Swaine, the town librarian, juggling two heavy bags of groceries.

"Hi, Dolores. How are you?"

"I'm good, sweetheart." She smiled warmly, setting one bag on her hip. "It's great to have you back. Settling okay with your mom?"

I gave a small laugh. "You know how it is. And my grandma's there too."

Dolores chuckled. "Lord have mercy. Your mom mentioned it at book club last week. I think she’s starting to question her life choices."

"Maybe," I said, grinning. "But she couldn't leave Grandma where she was."

Dolores patted my shoulder. "You know where the library is if you need a little peace and quiet."

"Thanks. I’ll keep that in mind."

As she walked away, she paused and turned back, her eyes kind. "It really is good to see you back, sweetheart. Back where you belong."

The words warmed something deep in my chest. Maybe coming home hadn’t been such a terrible idea after all. Maybe, despite the whispers, there was still room for me here. A space I hadn’t completely lost.

With a smile, I pulled out my phone and checked my grocery list, but I’d barely taken three steps before someone grabbed my arm.

"What the hell do you think you're doing having dinner at the ranch?"

My heart dropped. Mayor Miller.

I yanked my arm free and took a step back. "What do you want, Mr. Miller?"

"Mayor Miller," he corrected, his face reddening. "Answer the damn question."

"Wilder invited me." I crossed my arms. "Not that it's any of your business."

He scoffed. "You’re damn right it’s my business. I warned you. Stay away from Nash."

"You threatened me," I corrected, my voice shaking slightly. "And maybe I’m tired of being scared."

His nostrils flared. "You think you'll survive without this town behind you? Without your job?"

"We'll manage," I said, though my stomach twisted at the thought.

He leaned closer, breath sharp with coffee and bitterness. "You think you can playhouse again with my son? You think I’ll just stand by while you destroy his life a second time?"

"I’m not the one destroying him," I whispered. "That was always your specialty."

His face darkened, something cruel flashing across it. "Do your job, and nothing more. And never, never, tell Nash the truth."

I lifted my chin. "You’re the only one trying to ruin him, not me."

Without another word, he turned and stalked away, leaving me trembling in the parking lot. It was only when he disappeared that I was able to get my legs to work, my breath coming shallow as I crossed toward the store.

The moment I walked in, it felt like every eye in the place swung toward me.

It was subtle. A tilt of a head. A low whisper behind a display of canned green beans.

The way Mrs. Porter, who owned Crafty Corner, turned to smile at me a little too brightly, like she wanted to be caught not looking.

I tugged my tote higher on my shoulder and pushed my way toward the produce aisle, trying to ignore the heavy heat creeping up my neck.

It was a small town. People talked. Of course they did.

Especially now that I was back. Especially after I’d broken the heart of the town’s golden boy. What the hell would they think if they knew I’d kissed him? That we’d practically devoured each other in the back hall of Downtown Bar & Grill?

God.

Heat burned across my cheeks at the memory, his mouth, rough and desperate on mine, the way he'd gripped my hips like he was scared I'd disappear again. The anger that had come from something so hot. That line that had been crossed between love and hate.

I snagged a couple of apples off the shelf, fumbling them into a paper bag, pretending I didn’t see Mrs. Aitken whispering something to Mr. Ford across the potatoes.

“Shame, after all that drama years ago,” I heard, low and cutting.

“Broke that boy’s heart,” the other replied, voice a murmur. “Never got over it.”

“Lost himself in other women—hence that little girl of his.” The voice dropped but not enough that I couldn’t hear it. “Wonder if she ever explained why she just left. I heard it was another boy.”

My fingers tightened around the apple bag. I hadn't realized how heavy memories could be until they were suddenly tossed around like gossip at the grocery store.

I straightened my spine. Lifted my chin.

I didn’t owe anyone an explanation. What could I give them, certainly not the truth. Anything else would make it seem like I hadn’t cared. Like it had been easy to leave. Easy to explain away and there was nothing simple about it.

Nash and I may not have been complicated as teenagers, but now we were more complex than a rabbit warren. His father had made sure of that.

Still, as I paid for my groceries and hurried toward the door, I couldn't help glancing around one last time. Whispers. Stares. Stories blooming like weeds in the cracked sidewalks of Silver Peaks.

Stories, assumptions and lies.

But maybe...maybe if Nash was standing beside me, maybe if we faced it together.

But that was never going to happen. He’d been more than clear about that.

"Did you get Grandma’s canned pineapple?" Mom asked, peering into a grocery bag when I got home later.

"Right here." I handed her two cans. "I’m not about to make that mistake again."

"Good girl. She's bowling tonight."

"Bowling?" I stared. "With whom?"

"Some ladies from the Thursday Club. And some gentlemen from the Wednesday Club."

I laughed as we put away the groceries. "How is this real life?"

"You’ve been gone a while, honey. Silver Peaks has...evolved."

When we finally settled with coffee mugs in hand, Mom pinned me with her knowing stare.

"Okay," she said. "Tell me what’s happening with you and Nash."

"Nothing!" I protested. "Mom, it wasn't a date. Wilder invited me after I went to pick up my phone."

She raised an eyebrow. "And yet, you’re lying awake thinking about him. Am I right?"

I sighed, running a hand through my hair. "Maybe."

When I told her about running into Mayor Miller, she grew quiet. Then, after a few moments, she said, "Hear me out. I have a crazy idea."

"Please tell me it doesn't involve naked pictures," I said, grimacing.

She barked a laugh. "No. I’m thinking about telling our story to the local paper. Getting ahead of the Mayor." She shrugged. “We can make sure the truth is printed, not a bunch of lies that he’ll spin.”

I stared at her. My tiny, fierce mother.

She had been married to a coward of a man, a bully, a murderer, and she’d had the courage to leave.

She’d moved halfway across the country with her child to a small town where she knew no one and carved out a life for herself.

Standing there, her hair in a messy bun, holes in the knees of her old worn jeans and wearing an ancient Boyz II Men t-shirt I had never seen her look more determined.

“No, Mom. I can’t let you do that.”

“You can’t stop me, sweetheart. It’s my decision. I barely saw you for ten years because of that secret. I’m not willing for that to happen again.”

“And if it backfires, and you lose your job? Or I lose mine?”

"Then we’ll fight it, not sure he really has any power anyway. Whatever happens, though, we’ll manage, Lily," she said gently. "We just have to stop living in fear."

"Okay. I’ll think about it," I whispered. "But you have to promise me you’re sure."

"I’m sure." She squeezed my hand. "And you have to promise me that you’ll tell Nash everything."

"I-I can’t."

"You can," she insisted. "If I can tell my truth, you can tell yours."

I nodded, though the idea made my stomach churn.

It was almost three a.m., and I lay awake staring at the ceiling.

The house creaked softly in the night, the old water pipes knocking like a heartbeat beneath the floorboards. Grandma snored faintly down the hall. Somewhere outside, a coyote howled low and mournful, its cry curling in through the window like an omen.

Did I tell Nash? Did we risk the Mayor’s wrath? Did I let Mom tell the Silver Peaks News her darkest secret? What if we lost everything?

But in the quiet, dark hours of the night, only one truth remained steady:

Every road in my heart led straight back to Nash.

And maybe it was finally time to stop running.

Maybe...it was time to fight.