DAY 8
DAY 8I worked until dark yesterday, giving Fallon the space she needed. I kept myself busy and showed up with dinner like nothing had happened between us. She did the same, so now we’re pretending that night doesn’t exist.
“Ready?” I ask Fallon as we pull up to a rustic inn on Bennett’s Orchard Farm.
“This place is like my second home,” I explain as we climb out of the truck. We’ve had a strange energy between us all day that I can’t seem to shake, but neither of us mentions it. Instead, I continue to act as if we didn’t get lost together. It’s easier than getting caught up in the emotions I’m not used to feeling.
So I tuck it away and act indifferent.
Fallon studies the inn for a moment, focusing on the white building with dark shutters.
“I spent many summers here helping,” I
