Page 7 of Forever In Willow Creek

She sighed, finally giving in. The screen lit up with a familiar name: Kristen – VP Strategy.

Zoe hesitated—then tapped the green icon.

“Zoe! Thank God. I’ve been trying to reach you. Listen, we’re in the middle of a mess. The analytics pitch you prepped, the client wants a revision by Monday. And the regional team in Europe is expecting you to hop on a Zoom in an hour. Think you can make that happen?”

Zoe closed her eyes, pinching the bridge of her nose. “Kristen, I told everyone I was taking a short break—”

“I know, and we totally respect that,” Kristen cut in, her voice anything but respectful. “But no one else understands the material like you do. This is just a quick pivot, Zoe. Then you can get back to your… cottage or cabin or whatever.”

Zoe bit back a sharp reply. “Fine. I’ll send the revised slides tonight.”

“Perfect. Knew I could count on you.” The call ended with a chirp, and Zoe sat there, blinking at the now-black screen.

Her pulse thudded beneath her skin. The ache in her chest, the one she had almost forgotten during long walks, late-night talks, and Luke’s quiet smiles—came roaring back. She was slipping again. Slipping into a version of herself she had come here to escape.

She threw on a jacket and stuffed her laptop into her bag, already regretting the decision.

By the time she reached Sweet Bloom Flowers to borrow Wi-Fi, her jaw was tight with frustration. She barely noticed Sarah’s raised eyebrow as she muttered something about needing to work for a few hours. Zoe locked herself in the storage room and didn’t emerge again until evening, her shoulders stiff and her mood even worse.

Later, as the sun dipped behind the hills, she headed toward Harrison Auto Repair. Her plan wasn’t fully formed, maybe she’d just say hi, see his face, let some of the tension bleed out.

Luke was outside, hands on his hips, watching the last glow of daylight fade behind the trees. He looked up as she approached, smile flickering.

“Hey,” he said. “You okay? You kind of vanished today.”

Zoe shrugged. “Had to handle something. Work stuff.”

Luke tilted his head. “I thought you were off the grid.”

“I was,” she said tightly. “But not everyone respects that.”

He studied her for a beat. “You could have told me. I would have understood.”

Zoe crossed her arms, defensive. “Why would I need to tell you everything?”

Luke’s eyebrows rose slightly. “You don’t. I just thought we were getting closer.”

A silence settled between them, thick and uncomfortable.

“I don’t belong here, Luke,” Zoe said, the words spilling out harsher than she intended. “I’m not built for pumpkin festivals and pie gossip and—whatever this is.”

Luke took a step back, stung. “Is that how you see it? A joke?”

“No,” she said, softer now, regret threading through her voice. “But I can’t just turn off who I’ve been for the last ten years. I’ve built a life. A career. And people depend on me.”

Luke’s voice was calm, but there was steel in it. “And what about you, Zoe? What do you depend on?”

She looked away, unable to answer.

“I get it,” he said after a long moment. “You’re scared. Maybe of getting stuck, maybe of needing something real. But you’re not the only one with ghosts.”

Zoe swallowed hard, guilt forming a knot in her throat. “I didn’t mean to push you away.”

“But you did,” he said gently. “And I don’t know if you’ll let me back in.”

They stood there in the quiet, shadows lengthening across the gravel drive.

“I’m tired,” she whispered. “Of running. Of pretending I’m fine.”

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