"And that automatically means she can't want anything else?"
"Don't be naive." I turn to face him finally, anger simmering just below the surface. "You think she's going to give up national promotion and some celebrity book champion to, what? Live in a cabin and watch me fix trails?"
Liam's expression hardens. "What I think is that you're not even giving her a choice. You're deciding for her, just like you always do."
"Because I know how this ends!" The words burst out louder than I intended. "City people always leave, Liam. They love the idea of mountain life until the reality sets in. The isolation. The distance from everything. The limitations."
"Daisy isn't Heather."
"No, she has even more waiting for her in the city than Heather did." I turn back to the tools, unable to face the sympathy in his eyes. "At least Heather only had a job offer. Daisy has her dream career taking off."
"So you're just going to push her away before she can leave? Real mature, Row."
"I'm being realistic." My voice is bitter even to my own ears. "You think someone like Daisy belongs here? Someone whose head is full of fairy tales and talking animals? Someone who needs art supplies and book launches and city connections?"
Liam is quiet for a moment. When he speaks, his voice is carefully controlled. "Is that really what you think of her? That she's just some flighty city girl who can't handle real life?"
The truth is a knife between my ribs. Of course that's not what I think. Daisy is the most genuine person I've ever met. Her whimsy isn't frivolous, it's how she sees beauty in everything. But admitting that means admitting what I'm losing, and I can't bear that pain.
"What I think doesn't matter." I shove another tool into place. "What matters is reality. And the reality is that in a week, she'll be gone. Back to book signings and launch parties and everything she deserves."
"And you're not going to fight for her? For whatever it is you two have?"
"We don't have anything." The lie tastes like acid.
Liam laughs, the sound harsh in the small space. "Right. That's why you spent hours carving animals into trail markers. Why you fixed that wildlife blind for her. Why you've smiled more in the past two weeks than in the past two years."
"It was a mistake." Each word is a stone I stack between myself and the truth. "Getting involved with someone. I knew better."
"So what's your plan? Avoid her for the next week? Pretend this morning never happened?"
The question hits too close to home. That's exactly what I've been considering. Retreating to the far corners of the property, sending Connor to handle her research needs, hiding until she's gone and I can lick my wounds in peace.
"If I have to."
"Coward." The word drops like a hammer.
"What did you say?" I turn slowly, anger rising to replace the fear.
"You heard me." Liam doesn't back down. "You're a coward, Rowan. Too afraid to even try because you might get hurt again. Too scared to admit that you care about her."
"You don't know what you're talking about."
"Don't I? I was there after Heather left, remember? I watched you shut everybody out, throw yourself into the trails, pretend you were fine when we all knew you weren't."
"And now you think I should set myself up for that again?" My voice rises. "With someone who has even more reason to leave?"
"I think you should at least be honest. With her, and with yourself." Liam steps closer. "She deserves that much."
"What she deserves is better than being tied to someone who will never fit in her world." The truth beneath my fear slips out before I can stop it. "Better than having to choose between her dreams and... and whatever this is."
"So you're making the choice for her. Deciding that your world and hers can't possibly overlap."
"They can't." I slam my palm against the shelf. "People like Daisy don't end up with people like me, Liam. Not in real life. They go back to their careers and their cities and their success. And they should."
"People like Daisy?" Liam's voice is dangerously quiet. "You mean people who see magic in everyday things? Who make you laugh? Who look at you like you hung the moon? Those kind of people?"
The accuracy of his description is like salt in an open wound. "You know what I mean."
