THE LOVE WE LEFT BEHIND

One Year

Lena hit the sidewalk so fast her boots skidded on the damp, leaf-strewn pavement. The cold morning air hit her face, but it did nothing to cool the sudden, suffocating heat rising in her chest.

One calendar year.

She paced a tight circle in front of the law office, pulling her coat tight against the wind. Her lungs felt too small. Her life was in Seattle. She had an apartment overlooking the Sound, a mid-level management position at a logistics firm that required her back at a desk on Monday, and a carefully constructed, quiet existence built entirely on the premise of never looking backward.

Evelyn had reached out from the grave and taken a sledgehammer to all of it.

The heavy glass door of Harrison & Vance swung open, the brass bell clanging a harsh goodbye. Daniel stepped out onto the sidewalk, sliding a pair of dark aviators out of his jacket pocket. He didn’t immediately walk toward his truck. Instead, he stopped a few feet from her, letting the silence stretch until it was a physical weight pressing down on her shoulders.

Lena spun around to face him, her hands trembling so badly she had to shove them deep into her coat pockets. "You knew."

"I knew I had a contract," Daniel corrected, his voice infuriatingly calm. He stepped off the curb, fishing his keys out of his pocket. "I signed it three months ago. I knew Evelyn pre-funded a massive restoration. What I didn't know until you showed up yesterday was that she was using me as the warden for your little house arrest."

"You could have warned me last night," she snapped, closing the distance between them. "You let me walk in there thinking I was just signing a deed!"

"And what difference would it have made?" Daniel stopped and looked down at her. Behind the dark lenses of his sunglasses, she couldn't read his eyes, but the hard set of his jaw told her exactly how much patience he had left. "Would you have run away last night instead of this morning? Go ahead, Lena. The highway’s right there. You already have the rental car. Break the stipulation. Let the historical society turn Rosewood into a museum. It’s what you do best, isn't it? Leaving when it gets too hard."

The words stung, sinking into her skin like ice water. She wanted to scream at him. She wanted to tell him that he didn't know the first thing about why she had left, about the absolute terror that had driven her out of this town in the dead of night.

But she couldn't. The secret was lodged in her throat, just as it had been for fifteen years.

"I'm not leaving," she said, her voice dropping to a fierce, trembling whisper. "Rosewood House has been in my family for over a century. It was my mother's home before she died. I am not letting the state take it just because you and Evelyn decided to back me into a corner."

Daniel let out a harsh breath, shaking his head. "Don't put this on me. I didn't ask for you to come back. I signed a contract to keep my crew employed and my business in the black. If I walk away from that restoration, the penalty clauses will bankrupt Carter Contracting. So whether we like it or not, we’re stuck with each other."

Lena looked away, staring down Main Street. The bakery. The old hardware store. The rusted streetlamps. The walls of Willow Creek were closing in on her. "So, how does this work? Are you just going to be at the house every single day?"

"Monday through Friday. Seven a.m. to five p.m.," Daniel rattled off mechanically. "Noah and the rest of the crew will be there with me. The foundation is rotting, the roof is compromised, and the plumbing is a disaster waiting to happen. It's going to be loud, it's going to be dirty, and it's going to take a long time."

He took a step closer, towering over her. The faint scent of cedar and old anger washed over her.

"Here are the ground rules," Daniel said, his tone entirely devoid of the boy she used to know. "You stay out of my crew's way. If you need something fixed, you put it on a list and give it to Noah. You and I don't need to talk. We don't need to reminisce. We are strictly a business arrangement until the clock runs out on your year. Understood?"

Lena lifted her chin, matching his icy stare, though it took every ounce of her willpower to keep her voice steady. "Perfectly. Just get the job done, Daniel. The sooner you finish, the sooner I can sell the house and leave."

A muscle ticked in his jaw. "Don't worry, Lena. I'm counting down the days just as much as you are."

He turned on his heel and walked toward his truck, his heavy boots echoing against the concrete. Lena stood on the sidewalk, watching him pull out of the parking space and drive away without a backward glance.

A cold drop of rain hit her cheek, followed by another. The sky above Willow Creek was turning a bruised, violent purple.

She was trapped. For one entire year, she was trapped in a crumbling house full of ghosts, forced to watch the only man she had ever loved meticulously rebuild her home while looking at her like she was the enemy.

Lena turned and began the long walk back to her rental car. The clock had just started ticking.