CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE
My hands move with a frenzied passion, scrubbing the wooden floors of the guest cabins with more force than necessary. The fresh scent of pine cleaner does little to clear my mind of him — Ethan. Each stroke of the brush is a desperate attempt to erase the memory of his touch, his rogue charm that I foolishly fell for.
"Focus, Ava," I mutter to myself, trying to drown out the echo of his laughter in my head. I toss the dirty water out the front door and watch it seep into the earth. It's like trying to wash away his imprint on my soul, but the stain remains.
As I move from one cabin to the next, methodically rearranging pillows and smoothing out blankets, I can't shake off the weight in my chest.
"Stupid, stupid heart," I whisper, flinging open the window curtains t
