San Sequoia
The Healing Hooves Therapy Stables
Friday Night

The sleek black car rolled silently up the driveway of Healing Hooves Therapy Stables, its whitewashed facade gleaming in the golden glow of late afternoon. Immediately, the driver rushed around the car to open her door for her, Briar Rose stepped out, the click of her heels echoing against the polished stone path while behind her her luggage was unloaded. The sight of the upscale stables, usually bustling with life, felt eerily still. The rhythmic clatter of horseshoes and the laughter of children were gone, leaving only the hollow hum of the wind. And then she saw it—the foreclosure sign staked neatly at the entrance. The blood drained from her face.

Foreclosure?!

What the actual …?!

A joke?

Before she could process the scene, the white door with intricate glass inlets of the main building swung open. Bonnie came sprinting toward her, clutching a crumpled drawing of horses under a bright blue sky. Her sundress billowed behind her as she ran.

“Mommy!” Bonnie cried, her voice high and frantic. She threw herself into Briar Rose’s arms with such force that Bri stumbled back slightly. Bonnie’s tears soaked the collar of Bri’s jacket as the words spilled out in a panicked rush.

“Mommy, mommy! I drew you a picture so we can always remember the horses, because Daddy says we have to leave home and he’s taking them back to Chestnut Ridge! He says Healing Hooves isn’t ours anymore. He’s already started packing all our things! I was gonna wear my new green dress for you today, but I couldn’t find it. And he said Beau gets to stay with Daddy, and I can’t come because I get sick in Chestnut Ridge, and I don’t even wanna go there! I don’t like it there! I’d much rather stay with you and Grammie and Grampa’s! But Beau doesn’t want to stay here anymore; he wants to go with Daddy. But why, Mommy? I don’t wanna leave Daddy! Not again!”

The weight of Bonnie’s words landed hard, but Briar Rose forced herself to stay calm for her daughter. She knelt down, gently brushing Bonnie’s curls away from her tear-streaked face. “What? That doesn’t sound right!” she whispered, though her voice trembled. “It’s okay, sweetheart. Just relax. I’m going to figure this out. Let me speak with Daddy. I’m sure this is just a misunderstanding. None of that makes any sense.”

Bonnie sniffled and threw her arms around Briar Rose’s neck, holding on tightly. Bri hugged her back, pressing a kiss to her temple. After a moment, Bri gently eased Bonnie’s grip and stood up, brushing herself off as her eyes shifted to the doorway.

Bonnie sniffled and clung to her waist, but Briar Rose’s eyes were already fixed on the figure standing in the doorway. Jackson. His hat was tipped low, his broad shoulders heavy with defeat. Behind him, she caught sight of Beau, leaning against the upstairs railing, his arms crossed and his expression distant. Their children, though twins, could not be more opposite if they tried. Bonnie had always been pleasant and outgoing, Beau a loner, outdoorsy, something on him was always dirty and before they had moved to San Sequoia he had often had skipped school or snuck out in the middle of class go to visit his friends on the reservation or for them to explore the prairie. Now he couldn’t and was miserable sitting through class. He insisted on helping his father with caring for the horses before school or he wouldn’t go, while his sister took forever to decide on a dress and hairstyle for the day.

Briar Rose kissed Bonnie’s forehead and murmured, “Go inside, so I can talk with daddy, okay? Go find Beau and decide where we will go for dinner, okay?” Standing, she smoothed her jacket, her steps brisk as she made her way toward Jackson. Her heels struck the polished path like gunshots, each one more purposeful than the last. Bonnie ran past them inside the house calling for her twin brother.

Jackson met her halfway, his boots scuffing against the stone. He tugged his hat off, revealing the exhaustion carved into his features. There was something hollow in his eyes, like a man who had fought a battle he always knew he would lose. Unlike normally when she returned home from her travels as a Singer/Songwriter, they didn’t run to one another, hugging and kissing each other. Something was off. Clearly.

“What the hell is going on, Jackson?” Briar Rose demanded, her voice sharp but quiet, simmering with barely restrained fury. “There’s a foreclosure sign out front, and Bonnie’s telling me we have to leave. Am I in some waking nightmare here?”

He sighed deeply, rubbing the back of his neck as he looked away. “’fraid not,” he admitted, his voice low and gravelly. “Healing Hooves is gone, Bri. I lost it. I am sorry you had to find out this way. Thought I had some more time so I could tell ya in person.”

Her heart clenched, but the anger surged first. “What does that mean, gone!?” she repeated, her voice shaking with disbelief. “What do you mean with lost? How does one lose an entire property? I was only gone for three weeks! We spoke on the phone daily! And you didn’t think to tell me? You just let everything fall apart, and now you’re telling me it’s too late? What did my parents say? Or Connor? Why didn’t they help!?”

“Yer parents don’t know, nobody does, well, guessin’ they will now, bank person was out earlier today to put up the sign. Was hopin’ I get to talk with ya about it first. I got buried in bills, then some lawsuits I didn’t think were even serious, some non-sense about me addressin’ some kid wrong and the parents suing me, thought that was stupid, guessin’ the judge didn’t. The parents also posted bad stuff about me and nobody came. No customers, lots of bills … I thought I could fix it but looks like people in San Sequoia hold grudges forever and before I knew it, bank said they own it, and I don’t. What was I supposed to do?” he snapped, his frustration breaking through his calm. “Call you up while you are on stage every night performin’ and burden you with the mess I made, knowin’ you can’t fix it no more anyway, cos I can’t take care of my family right? Or better yet, ask have your parents bail me out again and again? Y’all just lost your grandpa, your parents are grieving, all y’all are. I couldn’t go to them holdin’ open my hand for a very large amount. I couldn’t do that, Briar Rose. I built this place for you, for the kids, for us. It was my responsibility. It wasn’t your mess to clean up.”

“That makes literally NO sense, Jackson!” she shot back, her voice rising. “Yes, you should have told me or my parents, or Connor for all I care. Just someone. We could have prevented this. We might still be able to buy it back from the bank, I knew it was wrong keeping me off the title. Jackson, we’re supposed to be partners. You should’ve told me when things started going downhill. We could’ve figured something out together. Instead, you went and buried it until it was too late. And now you tell me we are separating? We were fine, a family of four, when I left! What the actual fuck, Jackson?!”

Jackson’s hands balled into fists at his sides, though his voice turned quieter, almost resigned. “We ain’t separatin’, Bri. It’s just temporary till I figure something else out. It wouldn’t have mattered, Bri. You can’t fix something that’s already broke. The lawsuits, the bills—it just kept piling up. And I just didn’t want to fight for it. I don’t belong here Bri. I realized that every day. Thought I could do it for ya and for Bonnie, just like you did for me for so long. But I can’t cut it in the big city, neither can Beau. School suspended him, for fightin’. He’s a boy, that’s what boys do, this don’t make no damn sense. That’s the end of it. I am done. I just can’t live here, I can’t live this life and I don’t wanna anymore. My dad wants to be back in Henfordshire, Izzy misses her folks too much and he wants to be near Vivienne and the grandbaby she’s pregnant with, so I told them to move back and Beau and I go back to the ranch,” He sighed deeply, averted his eyes cos he couldn’t look at her for the next part. “Honestly Bri, I didn’t fight more, cos I kinda wanted it to go away. I ain’t happy here. Beau ain’t happy here. The only happiness here for me are you and the kids.”

Briar Rose’s breath hitched as she blinked away furious tears. “YOU DID WHAT?! Oh, that’s great, Jackson. So, what now?” she demanded, her tone biting. “What am I supposed to do, huh Jackson? What about Bonnie? What about Beau? We just split up and that’s that?! Are you serious!?”

Jackson’s jaw worked, his gaze dropping to the ground. “Well, been thinking long and hard about that, and I wish I had a better answer. Truth is, we don’t belong here,” he said finally, the words slow and heavy. “Me and Beau… we belong to Chestnut Ridge, so do the horses. They are workin’ horses, not show ponies, they been hatin’ schleppin’ them Yuppies and their brats around. That ain’t what they are made for. I hate the big city, so does Beau. But you and Bonnie don’t belong to Chestnut Ridge. You both belong here. I don’t know what to do Bri. You tried livin’ my life with me, I tried livin’ your life with you, but it ain’t workin’ long term. I love you, Bri, more than life itself, and God knows I would die for you and our children. Beau hates it here, hates his school, has no real friends, his friends are back home. We’re miserable, Beau, the horses and I. I am sorry, Bri, I couldn’t tell ya over the phone, but we’re goin’ back to Chestnut Ridge and that’s that. Back to the Kershaw Ranch.”

The finality of his words hit like a blow, and Briar Rose staggered slightly, her breath catching in her throat. “You cannot be serious!” she whispered, the disbelief giving way to something rawer, more vulnerable. “You’re just giving up on us? Wow, what a welcome home. Just what I needed and wanted. I am exhausted, Jackson. And instead of rest and cuddles with my children and love in every which way with my husband, I get THIS?! You inconsiderate bastard egomaniac!”

His eyes lifted to hers, filled with something she couldn’t quite place—sorrow, guilt, resignation. “I tried my darndest, Bri. You tried yer darndest. It don’t work, not long term. We try and try and someone always ends up unhappy. We don’t belong here, Briar Rose, Beau and I,” he said softly, almost as though trying to convince himself. “We belong to the prairie. You and Bonnie belong here. It ain’t the life for us anymore. For none of us. I thought Healin’ Hooves was the solution, but all I did was create a new problems, so many new problems I can’t fix. I ain’t no business man, Bri. My horses ain’t no circus attractions. They are workin’ horses, not toys for bored and badly mannered city folk with their made-up problems.”

Briar Rose shook her head, tears spilling over her cheeks. “That’s bullshit, Jackson,” she spat. “This isn’t about where we belong. Nobody loves their profession all the time. You think I love every aspect of mine? I look at the bright side, I finally get to make music, like I wanted, my talent. And not just that, it’s a family tradition. My dad was a musician, my grandpa was and his father before him. Me being a performer, writing music and songs has never been more important than now with grandpa gone, it’s my role in our legacy. So, don’t tell me this is about belonging or inconvenient jobs. I bit the bullet when I came live with you, for YEARS I played ranch hand for you, and mommy and wifey, and trust me, I never really loved that type of domestic ranch life. But I did it, without much complaint, for you, Jackson. And here you are, tapping out after not even one full year? This is about you giving up because you were too damn proud to ask for help.”

“Nah, that’s just part of it, Bri, I admit I was too proud to tell your parents they need to bail the father of their grandchildren out financially, knowing I could never pay them back. We talkin’ number like I never seen before, there are not enough horses I could breed and sell to even pay for the interest. I know I messed up. Trust me, there ain’t nothing you could say to me that I haven’t already said to myself. I didn’t want to drag you down with me,” he said, his voice cracking at the edges. “You’ve got a life here, Bri. You’re doin’ so good, your career is soaring, Bri. Bonnie loves it here, she is so popular, so happy, so good in school. I just can’t … I’m just not—I won’t let you throw your life away for me again. Bonnie can’t live in Chestnut Ridge because of her allergies, too risky, Beau can’t live here no more, neither can it. I don’t see no solution here. We tried it all and we failed. I am done tryin’, Bri.”

“You gotta be kidding me,” she finished bitterly. “Three exhausting weeks on the road to come home to this? Seriously?! Look, I don’t even care at this point. Whatever Jackson. I cannot be in this relationship without you, it takes two, and I have felt that it has been always mostly me carrying us for weeks now, if not months. Yet, normally, I might have fought with you about this now, but I am too tired. You wanna tap out, fine, then go. Go back to fucking Chestnut Ridge and you are damn right, Bonnie and I are staying here. Fuck this. Fuck you. You wanna leave, fine, leave. You’re right. I am happy here in San Sequoia, our daughter is happy here, you made the choices without me, so go ahead and fuck off. I already know Beau is gonna side with you, I do not have the energy to fight our son non-stop by forcing him to come with me, so fine. I will lose my son again, thanks to you. You get what you wanted. Oh, and you are very wrong about something here: we very much ARE separating. THIS isn’t okay, this entire thing. You want this, you created this, fine. We are THROUGH!” tears were running down her cheeks now, and she sobbed.

He didn’t answer. The silence between them was a chasm, vast and echoing with unspoken words. Somewhere nearby, a dog barked, a jarring interruption to the unbearable stillness. Briar Rose squared her shoulders, her breaths shallow as she fought the ache rising in her chest.

“Bonnie!” she called softly, her voice unsteady but resolute. Within moments, her daughter emerged, her small steps hesitant as she sensed the tension hanging in the air. Bri knelt, cupping Bonnie’s cheeks in her hands, her fingers trembling slightly. “Come on, baby girl,” she murmured. “We’re going back to Grandma and Grandpa’s pool house.”

Bonnie’s brows furrowed in confusion. “What about Daddy? And Beau?”

Briar’s heart wrenched, but she managed a faint smile, though it felt as fragile as glass. “Daddy and Beau are going back to Chestnut Ridge with the horses,” she said, her voice cracking ever so slightly. “But Grandma and Grandpa can’t wait to see you. You still have your room there, just like before.”

Bonnie’s lip trembled. “What about my dolls? And my unicorn blanket?”

“We’ll come back for them tomorrow,” Briar promised, brushing a stray strand of hair away from Bonnie’s face. “Uncle Connor will help us. You’ve got everything you need for tonight, and it’s only the weekend—you’ll be just fine.”

As Bri stood, the sound of approaching footsteps drew her attention. The driver, who had been waiting nearby after unloading their luggage, stepped closer, his brow furrowed as he glanced between the three of them. He gestured toward the open trunk of the car. “Do you want me to load the luggage back in, ma’am?”

Briar hesitated, her gaze lingering on the suitcases sitting starkly on the pavement. For a moment, the weight of the moment threatened to crush her, but she nodded firmly, swallowing down the lump in her throat. “Yes, please. We’re leaving. I’ll give you the address in a minute, it’s not far, local.”

The driver gave a curt nod and began loading the luggage back into the trunk with swift efficiency.

Bri took her daughter’s hand, guiding her gently toward the vehicle. Bri turned back to Jackson, her voice calm but laced with unmistakable finality. “Jackson, have Bonnie’s things ready to go tomorrow. I’ll pack what I need as well, and then we’ll be out of your way—just as you wanted.”

Her words hit like a cold wind, sharp and unyielding. She turned back to Bonnie, her tone softening as she guided her toward the car. “Come on, Bon-Bon. Let’s get you settled in.”

Bonnie hesitated, her wide eyes glancing back at Jackson with a mixture of hope and confusion. “But what about Daddy? Why is he doing this? It’s not fair!” she whispered, her voice trembling.

Briar froze, her hand hovering over the car door. She turned, meeting Jackson’s gaze with a steady, tear-filled stare. “Daddy loves you very much,” she said quietly. “He always will. But Daddy needs to be in Chestnut Ridge now, with Beau and the horses, cos his daddy has to move back to Henfordshire. And you and I… we’re going to be okay. I promise.”

Her voice faltered, but she pushed through, reaching out to tuck Bonnie into her seat. “You’ll get to say your real goodbyes tomorrow, sweetheart. Tonight, Mommy just can’t with that right now, I need a little rest.”

 With one last look at Jackson, her expression a mixture of heartbreak and resolve, Bri started climbing into the car. She had made it halfway when she heard it—Jackson’s voice, rough and desperate, cutting through the quiet.

“Bri!”

She stopped, the sound of her name bringing a tremor to her knees. Slowly, she turned back, her wide, tear-filled eyes locking onto his. For a moment, it seemed as though he was wrestling with something, as though the words were caught in his throat. Finally, he stepped forward, his hands shaking at his sides. “I… I love you,” he said, his voice thick with emotion, his gaze pleading.

The words pierced her like a blade, sharp and unforgiving. She stared at him, her breath catching, her chest heaving as she tried to steady herself. When she finally spoke, her voice was soft, but it trembled under the weight of her sorrow.

“I love you too, Jackson,” she said, the words spilling out like a confession, raw and unguarded. “Which is my greatest flaw. My biggest downfall. My Achilles heel. But you…” Her voice cracked, and she took a shuddering breath, her tears finally spilling over. “You’re working so hard to change that. To make me feel less and less every day. And you’re succeeding.”

Jackson’s face crumpled, his shoulders sagging under the weight of her words. She wanted to look away, to shield herself from the pain etched into his features, but she forced herself to hold his gaze. Because this was it—this was goodbye. It was farewell.

A deep, aching silence stretched between them, broken only by the gentle hum of the engine as the driver waited patiently next to her to shut her door. Briar Rose tore her gaze away and turned back to the car, her hands trembling as she climbed in.

She glanced back at him one last time, her voice barely above a whisper as she said, “Goodbye, Jackson.”

And with that, the door was shut behind her. Momentarily the driver took his seat, the hum of the engine grew louder as the car pulled away, leaving Jackson standing there amidst the stillness. The image of him—lost, broken, yet silent—etched itself into her heart, a scar that would never fully fade.

As the car pulled away, Jackson stood on the driveway, his hat in his hands and Beau by his side. Briar Rose refused to look back, the gleaming facade of Healing Hooves fading into the horizon. But the ache in her chest stayed, and she knew this wasn’t just the end of the first and most likely last ever horse stables in San Sequoia.

It was the end of them.
Again.
This time for good.
She couldn’t go through it all again.

Not again.

Sunday, Family Day

The morning air inside the main house felt warm and welcoming, carrying the rich scent of sizzling bacon, freshly brewed coffee, and the faint sweetness of blueberry pancakes wafting from the kitchen. Bri and Bonnie entered together, the lingering aroma of chlorine from their poolhouse clinging to them like a whispered reminder of their separate space. Bonnie skipped ahead eagerly, her light-up sneakers blinking with each joyful step, while Bri followed at a slower, deliberate pace, her movements weighted by exhaustion. Another sleepless night had left her hollow-eyed and heavy-hearted, the remnants of quiet sobs etched into her expression.

As Bonnie burst into the kitchen, her bright voice rang out like a ray of sunshine cutting through the haze. “Auntie Iris is here! Hi, Auntie! Where’s Ana? And Uncle Jasper?”

Her energy was infectious, bouncing off the walls with each word. Bri rounded the corner to see Iris seated at the breakfast table, her coffee cup held lightly between her fingers. There was a tiredness in her sister’s smile, but it was gentle and loving nonetheless—a look that flickered over Bri with unspoken sympathy.

Iris leaned toward Bonnie, smoothing a stray curl from her niece’s forehead. “Ana is at home with Uncle Jasper this morning, sweetie.” Her voice was warm, if a little soft, the kind of tone reserved for comforting children and fragile hearts.

At that moment, Grandma Hailey swooped in with perfect timing, setting down a plate of pancakes adorned with a whipped cream smiley face in front of Bonnie. “Eat up, darling,” she said, pressing a quick kiss to the top of Bonnie’s head. She turned toward Bri, her expression shifting instantly to concern. Bri had barely reached for the coffee pot when Hailey stepped forward, halting her movements as the mug overflowed onto the counter.

“Bri, sweetheart,” Hailey whispered, her hands steady but firm as she set the coffee pot down and pulled her daughter into an embrace. Bri froze, her chest tightening as she tried to keep it all bottled up. But Hailey’s lavender-scented presence was too familiar, too grounding, and before Bri could stop herself, soft sobs began to escape. Her shoulders shook as she whispered through tears, “Not in front of Bonnie…”

Hailey didn’t loosen her grip, her voice calm but unyielding. “Let it out, angel. You can’t keep carrying this alone. Bonnie knows you’re hurting—it’s better for her to see that love isn’t perfect, but it’s real. That you cared enough to try.” Hailey’s words broke through Bri’s resistance, and the floodgates opened.

Across the room, Grandpa Chase seemed to understand instinctively. He turned to Bonnie distracting her with questions about the whipped cream design on her pancakes. “What’s this supposed to be, kiddo? Picasso’s pancakes? Michelangelo’s masterpiece?” Bonnie giggled uncontrollably, her head thrown back in delight, oblivious to the quiet storm brewing nearby. Chase’s subtle glances toward Bri and Hailey betrayed his concern, though he didn’t intervene.

Once Bri had regained her composure, she joined the others at the table, her breathing steady but her face still showing the strain of her emotions. Iris’s fingers traced the rim of her coffee cup nervously, her gaze flickering to Bri and then to Hailey, as though weighing whether to speak.

When Bri finally broke the silence, her voice was shaky but laced with curiosity. “Why are you here alone? Don’t tell me you and Jasper are going through a rough patch again. I take it mom and dad told you?”

Iris’s eyes widened slightly, shaking her head. “Yes, I heard. So sorry, Bri. And no worries, Jassy and I just fine,” she replied quickly, though her tone carried more layers than her words. Instead, Iris slid a silver-trimmed envelope across the table with deliberate precision. “Sorry for the delay, Bri. Everyone else got theirs days ago, but… well, you were traveling and all. Here.”

Bri’s fingers trembled slightly as she picked up the envelope, already guessing its contents. She opened it slowly, her heart twisting as she scanned the elegant script.

“A wedding invitation?” she murmured, a bittersweet note in her voice. Despite her lingering sadness, a smile broke through as she leaned forward to hug her sister. “Finally!”

Hailey chimed in, laughing as she wiped at her own eyes with a napkin. “Finally indeed! When you were pregnant with Ana, you swore you’d get hitched the minute you lost the baby weight! Here we are, years later—were you waiting for Ana to graduate college first?”

The table erupted in soft laughter, Iris shaking her head with a knowing grin. “We just weren’t in a rush. But now, it feels like… the right time. Immediate family only, mostly because—well, everyone’s still mourning Grandpa. But Sulani seemed perfect. A quiet family gathering, a quick honeymoon before things get hectic again. Colton and Maddie are taking Ana so we can have a real honeymoon.”

She paused, her gaze softening as it shifted toward Bri. “I know this might be too much to process right now. But Jas and I can’t postpone again. It’s now or never.”

Bri exhaled, shaking her head in both disbelief and amusement. “I get it. It’s about time, sis. You and Jas—you’re two halves of a whole. And you are alike. That’s more important than I ever realized. Don’t ever let that go.”

Iris smiled knowingly, her shoulders relaxing just a touch. Then, her eyes darted to the entrance where Connor and his family had just walked in. She knew better than to relay significant news before the arrival excitement had calmed. First, the sound of paws skidding on the hardwood floor echoed through the house. Connor’s large black German Shepherds Artemis and Echo bounded in, panting excitedly, tails wagging furiously, and were immediately greeted by Chase and Hailey’s equally enthusiastic mutt Snuffins, who had been napping nearby while keeping an eye out for potential snacks from the humans’ table. The dogs barked and bounced around each other, their excitement palpable. Keira chuckled as she opened the back door, letting the dogs out into the yard where they could burn off their energy.

Connor followed her into the kitchen, his towering frame filling the doorway, with their sixteen-year-old son Chris trailing behind. Chris, already built like a linebacker, grinned as he took in the familiar scene. Hailey wasted no time setting them up with plates of pancakes, the smell of butter and syrup filling the air.

Chris dug in immediately, his fork stabbing into the stack with gusto. “Sundays at Grandma’s are the best,” he declared, his voice muffled by a mouthful of food. “Finally, edible food—not Mom’s gluten-free, cruelty-free, taste-free health experiments.”

Keira rolled her eyes and gave him a playful nudge, her elbow catching his arm. “Poor baby, since at home we starve you to death by providing home cooked healthy wholesome organic meals. Oh puh-lease,” she groaned, though her smile betrayed her amusement.

Chris turned to his grandpa with mock seriousness. “Not just that, is everyone seeing this? Child abuse!” he exclaimed, earning a round of laughter from the table and a whack on the head from his father, who reached across him for the butter. “Ask and you shall receive,” Connor told him.

“Hey dad, pass me the whipping cream,” Connor called out. Chase handed Connor the spray can, and immediately Bonnie’s and Chris’s mouths opened. Connor sprayed some into his niece’s mouth, then aimed for his son, who closed his eyes and waited for the usual hissing sound. Instead, he tasted nothing, opening his eyes only to see his dad’s face next to his, indulging himself first. Connor grinned, his mouth so full of whipped cream it leaked out the sides, sputtering out as he laughed when his son attacked him for the can and father and son wrestled for it till Hailey called them to order. “Hey, hey – you can do that at YOUR home. Give Chris the can, Connor.”

“Yeah, Dad, give me the can,” Chris crowed, his grin spreading wide as he gleefully realized Grandma had taken his side. He extended his hand with dramatic flair, fingers curling and uncurling in that unmistakable “hand it over” motion, his entire body practically vibrating with anticipation. The sparkle in his eyes made it clear he was loving every second of his victory.

With an evil grin, Connor quickly lifted his son’s tee and slammed the can, still cold from the fridge, against the teenager’s stomach, Chris squealed way too high-pitched for a young man, which had everyone in stitches.

“Dayum kid, you could have a career as female opera singer,” Chase quipped.

The room buzzed with lighthearted chatter as everyone settled down with their food choices, sipping coffee and enjoying the warmth of family. Then, Iris cleared her throat, her fingers nervously tracing the rim of her coffee cup.

“Well, brother dearest plus family, you have perfect timing. I just gave Bri her invitation and was waiting to share more news.”

“Perfect timing for what?” Connor asked warily as he set his coffee mug down.

Iris reached into her purse and placed something on the table—a black-and-white picture. As soon as she held it up for all to see, the room shifted.

The room froze in a quiet hush, the only sound now was the clinking of silverware as Bonnie pushed blueberries into the whipped cream smile on her pancake. For a moment, everyone’s eyes danced over the grainy black-and-white image before reality clicked into place. It was a sonogram.

“Oh my…” Hailey mumbled, still chewing on her last bite, her hand flying to her mouth as tears welled up in her eyes. The faint scent of fresh coffee filled the air, mingling with the buttery aroma of the pancakes, but nobody seemed to notice. Chase, wide-eyed, let out a soft chuckle, the lines at the corners of his eyes crinkling in astonishment. “Holy crap, here we go again, Camerons being Camerons. Can’t make this shit up, congrats kid!”

Connor let out a low whistle, shaking his head as he leaned back in his chair. “Well, I admit, never would have seen that coming,” he muttered. His wife, Keira, placed a hand on his arm, her expression warm and knowing.

Bonnie, oblivious to the weight of the moment, finally looked up from her pancake and asked with wide, innocent eyes, “Is that a picture of Ana? Is she in a spaceship?”

Everyone burst into soft laughter at the childlike observation, the tension lifting slightly. Iris leaned forward, ruffling her niece’s hair. “No, sweetie. That’s not Ana. That’s… your new cousin.”

The realization hit like a second wave. Hailey pulled Iris into a tight embrace, her familiar floral perfume wrapping around her daughter. “Another grandbaby,” she whispered, her voice breaking, “I can’t believe it.”

Bri, clutching the envelope that now lay forgotten in her lap, felt her heart leap and sink at the same time. “Iris,” she breathed, her voice barely above a whisper, “You’re…? Are you serious? Is this one of your pranks?”

Iris smiled—a nervous yet radiant kind of smile that didn’t quite reach her tear-brimmed eyes. “I don’t prank, Bri. You’re confusing me with my husband-to-be, thank you very much. No, I am dead-serious. Surprise! It’s… well, it wasn’t exactly planned. Actually, it was a bit of a… a surprise gift for us too, if you will. In other words, Jas and I weren’t trying to expand the family, not at all,” she added with a light laugh, though it trembled. “I mean, you all remember how Ana happened, right? Jasper and I weren’t even together when she was conceived. We really thought she was it for us. We both considered family planning concluded. But clearly, fate had other ideas. On that note, Connor, call my fiancé about a vasectomy. We both would like to schedule him in soon, and in about 30-ish weeks I would like to get my tubes tied, please. We can’t keep doing this. I mean, we’re both excited and kinda happy, but two has to REALLY be IT!” she giggled.

Connor, ever the doctor, leaned forward, his analytical mind already at work. “Yeah, sure, I’ll get you both in for that,” he asked, his tone gentle but probing.

“Why bother? I’ll do it with a pair of scissors for free. Snip, snip and Jasper can finally hit the really high notes,” Chase make snipping motions with his index and middle finger.

“Ouch, Grandpa, that thought hurts me!” Chris piped up, clutching his groin area dramatically. “I see where my dad got his brutal tendencies from.” He barely finished the sentence before Connor delivered another light whack to the back of his head. “Ask, and you shall receive,” Connor chuckled.

Chris rubbed his head, grinning. “Oh yeah, Dad, is that how it works? Okay, brand-new sports car in the color of my choice, please.”

Connor didn’t miss a beat, delivering his response as dry as ever. “I’m sure they’ll have one at the dealership for you—right after you land that top-level manager position. Of course, that’s after graduating high school and college with top marks.”

Chris puffed out his chest like a pro athlete posing for a photo shoot. “College? So 2020-something. I’m going pro with pro-football, Dad. THAT is where the fast and easy cash is!” His confidence filled the room, drawing a few chuckles.

“You’re an idiot, kid,” Chase muttered casually, his words muffled by a mouthful of pancake. He didn’t bother looking up, simply shaking his head in amused disbelief.

Iris sighed, her smile softening as she redirected the conversation. “Oh, well, back to the main attraction here. And thanks, everyone, for asking—yes, everything’s fine. And… well, it’s one, which had Jas and me both breathing a deep sigh of relief. ONE baby. And a boy this time.”

She paused, her grin widening. “Oh, and about Jasper—he’s not here because he’s helping his parents prepare for the baby shower. You’re all invited—it’s this afternoon. Sorry for the late notice, but you’re family. It’s just gonna be us, so cancel your plans. This is gonna be better and worth it. We don’t want gifts, just your company.”

She barely got the words out before Bri gasped, her eyebrows shooting up. “OMG—rushed much?! Flings the news on us and immediately loads us in the car for a baby shower?! Duuuude!” Her face softened into an incredulous grin, the faintest spark of energy chasing away her exhaustion. “And a boy?” she exclaimed, her eyes lighting up. “Jasper must be over the moon!”

Connor leaned back in his chair, his grin wry and knowing. “The twin gene is unpredictable,” he quipped, his gaze flicking between Iris and Bri. “Passed the buck again, huh?”

“No kidding,” Iris said, rolling her eyes dramatically but smiling all the same. “Just like with Ana, I had no clue I was even knocked up until I swung by the doctor yesterday. And here we are, 13 weeks in—déjà vu. One big difference though: This time, we’re doing it married.” She gave a little shrug, her grin turning mischievous. “Hence the rush. We’ve got a list of names but are totally open to suggestions. Just no old, dusty names, please. We do live in DSV, after all.”

Across the table, Bri’s lips quivered, and before she could stop them, tears spilled down her cheeks. It was overwhelming—a tangled knot of awe for her sister, a raw pang of longing, and a bittersweet twinge of envy at the solid partnership Iris and Jasper had managed to build. Yet, beneath it all, a wave of happiness surged—genuine and unfiltered—washing over her for the newest member of their family.

The morning sun poured through the windows, painting the scene in warm, golden light as laughter and chatter filled the kitchen once again. The air buzzed with energy and anticipation, the family embracing an unexpected twist in their story. It felt, more than anything, like a blessing in disguise.

Off to Get Married

Just about a week later, San Sequoia International Airport hummed with life, a chaotic symphony of hurried footsteps, intercom announcements, and the ever-present whir of suitcase wheels gliding across the glossy tile floor. Travelers crisscrossed paths like a frenetic dance, some clutching overpriced coffee cups, others with phones pressed to their ears. The air smelled faintly of roasted beans, jet fuel, and a dash of impatience. Overhead, an intercom chimed softly before a polished voice announced: “Flight 2678 to Sulani will be departing from Gate 14. Passengers, please proceed to the boarding gate. Boarding should begin momentarily.”

Near a bustling café by Gate 14, the Cameron and Hargrave families waited, a mismatched cluster of personalities and emotions. Chase Cameron, silver-haired and sporting a leather jacket that somehow still screamed “rock star,” lounged in a chair with a guitar-shaped case by his side. His wife, Hailey—’Patches’ to him—adjusted her floral scarf while teasing him about his choice of airport snack, as he chomped unapologetically on a bag of beef jerky. Across from them, Colton Hargrave and Maddie discussed wedding plans with quiet excitement, Colton occasionally glancing at his watch.

Jasper’s gaze darted toward the boarding gate every few seconds, as though willing the flight’s boarding notification to flash across the screen. His knee bounced with restless energy, his fingers drumming a staccato rhythm on the armrest.

“Why the rush to get hitched, Jas?” Hailey teased, leaning forward to pat his knee with a smirk. “You keep checking your watch and the gate marquee like you’re looking for the nearest restroom.”

Her remark landed perfectly, drawing a ripple of laughter from Maddie and Colton, seated just across the aisle. Maddie shook her head fondly, while Colton chuckled and gave Jasper a light nudge on the shoulder. “Seriously son, I always thought the bride’s supposed to be the nervous one,” he said, a grin tugging at his lips. “And you, mister big-time movie star, with that enormous ego of yours—now look at my little boy shaking in his designer sneakers over there.”

“Relax, Jas,” Hailey giggled, leaning forward to pat his knee, her warm smile brimming with reassurance. Jasper, on the other hand, radiated nervous energy—his artificial grin not quite masking the tension in his bouncing knee and darting gaze.

Jasper attempted a grin, but his jittery energy was impossible to disguise. His black “Groom” cap sat slightly askew, as though even his accessories couldn’t settle in the moment.

Next to him sat the bride—his soon-to-be wife—the complete opposite, radiating calm and cheer. Her white “Bride” baseball cap matched his, perched atop her loose hair, her focus was entirely on their toddler daughter in the stroller before her. She leaned over the stroller’s handlebar, playfully wiggling her fingers to make their little girl giggle, a sound that echoed warmly above the hum of the bustling terminal.

The toddler squealed in delight, kicking her tiny sneakers against the footrest of the stroller as her mother pulled out a soft plush bunny from the diaper bag and waved it like a puppet. “Look, Daddy’s bunny!” she cooed, prompting the little girl to clap her hands with enthusiasm.

Briar Rose, meanwhile, looked anything but relaxed. Her phone clutched tightly in her hand, she paced a short circuit around the waiting area, repeatedly dialing a number while pausing only to send yet another unanswered text. “Still no word from Jackson?” Connor Cameron asked, his deep voice cutting through the airport noise. Standing casually beside Keira, his towering frame exuded effortless calm, an anchor of steadiness amidst Bri’s storm of frustration.

“No,” Bri snapped, her irritation bubbling as she texted furiously. “He promised they’d be here by now. He’s not even answering.”

Meanwhile, Christian, Connor and Keira’s teenage son, plopped onto the floor with a thud, his eyes glued to his phone as he scrolled with the practiced indifference only a teen could muster. Keira, standing right beside him, groaned audibly, her hands flying to her hips. “Christian Cameron! Get off that filthy floor this instant—it’s disgusting!” she barked, nudging his shoulder with her knee in an attempt to get him moving.

Christian glanced up lazily, entirely unbothered by her frustration. “Relax, Mom. I’m just building up my natural immunity levels,” he quipped, gesturing casually toward his dad without even looking up. “Besides, we’ve got our personal doctor right here on standby.”

Connor grinned, his eyes twinkling as he crossed his arms. “Oh, sure. Let me grab some industrial-strength bleach from my bag and douse you in it—that should take care of whatever horrifying germs you’re collecting down there. And after that, I’ll follow up with a dose of horse tranquilizer so we can all finally get some peace from your antics.” He punctuated the remark with a light kick to Christian’s leg, the kind of playful nudge only a dad could pull off. “Now, get your ass off the floor like your mother told you, or I’ll stand you up myself. And trust me, it’ll be embarrassing—I’ll make sure of it.”

Christian groaned dramatically as Keira grabbed his arm and pulled him to his feet. “Why do I even bother?” she muttered, while Connor smirked and shrugged good-naturedly. “Don’t test her, kid—you’ve met your mother, haven’t you?”

“Yeah, I’ve seen her around. Heard she’s a mean one .. OUCH! Mom what the actual f…” Chris flew around when Keira had literally kicked him in the rear with her pointy heels, causing him to rub his behind while staring at his mother in disbelief as she had her finger an inch from his face. “ONE more word and you will find yourself headfirst in one of the airport trashcans, Christian Cameron!”

Connor chuckled, shaking his head as Chris muttered something under his breath, slouching in mock compliance. The playful energy lingered for a moment, the kind of lighthearted chaos that only family could create. But as the laughter subsided, the airport’s ambient hum filled the space again, and Bri’s pacing came back into focus.

Her lips tightened into a thin line as her gaze drifted toward her daughter, Bonnie, perched on her grandparents’ luggage. The little girl was happily munching on a cookie, blissfully unaware of her mother’s growing despair. Bonnie chattered animatedly with her Grandpa Chase, listing all the animals she hoped to see in Sulani, her enthusiasm a bright contrast to Bri’s somber mood.

But as Bri watched her daughter, her heart ached for the absence of Bonnie’s twin, Beau. He should have been there, too. The thought of her son, living with his father Jackson and now undoubtedly missing this family trip to his Aunt Iris’ wedding, struck a deeper chord. A mother’s heart wasn’t meant to be divided this way—torn between the child at her side and the one out of reach.

The final boarding call echoed over the intercom, sharp and unrelenting. Bri’s chest tightened, her pulse quickening. Now what? Call again? To what avail? Unless Jackson had been hiding around a corner, even if he picked up now, he and Beau would never make it in time.

That painful reality settled heavily in her stomach as Iris Marie stepped forward, placing a gentle hand on her twin sister’s shoulder. Her voice was soft but firm, both sympathetic and resolute.

“Bri,” Iris said quietly, “we have to go. We can’t miss this flight. Tight schedule. I’m sorry, but we’ll have to do it without Jackson and Beau. And I need you there. You’re my other half, my twin. You have to come.”

Bri’s shoulders sagged as the words landed like a lead weight. With a resigned sigh, she nodded, blinking back the sting in her eyes as she slipped her phone into her bag. Her movements felt mechanical as they filed toward the gate, Bonnie skipping cheerfully ahead. But as Bri pulled her carry-on behind her, her heart felt impossibly heavy, weighed down by disappointment and the ache of separation.

As the plane taxied down the runway and began to lift off, Bri stared out the window, her forehead pressed lightly against the cool glass. Silent tears began to slide down her cheeks as San Sequoia—her home—grew smaller in the distance. The towering skyline gave way to golden hills, then faded entirely into a blur of fluffy white clouds. Her chest tightened with the weight of what this departure truly meant.

Behind her, the familiar voices of Christian and Connor broke through the low hum of the cabin, their playful bickering bringing sporadic bursts of laughter. Connor’s teasing tone, followed by Christian’s mock protests, drew amused chuckles from Keira and other passengers nearby. The lively energy of her family, so vibrant and effortless, was a stark contrast to the quiet storm raging within Bri. Each laugh seemed to widen the void in her heart, a painful reminder of the joy that Jackson and Beau would miss—and of the growing chasm between her and her husband.

Hours later, the turquoise oceans of Sulani came into view, sprawling and impossibly vibrant beneath the sunlight. The breathtaking sight brought no solace. Her thoughts remained on Jackson and Beau—on how neither would witness her twin sister Iris’s wedding to Jasper, Bri’s lifelong best friend. The idea felt unforgivable; another cruel nail driven into the coffin of her relationship with Jackson. How many more disappointments could her heart withstand before it finally shattered completely?

As Bonnie tugged at her arm, eager to show her dolphins frolicking in the glittering ocean below, Bri forced a weak smile. “Beautiful, isn’t it, sweetheart?” she whispered, her voice trembling. But inside, her emotions roiled—a storm beneath the tranquil skies of Sulani.

Sulani Moments

The tropical breeze hit them the moment they disembarked in Sulani, warm and fragrant with the scent of hibiscus and saltwater. The family was escorted to their rental bungalows, a collection of sleek, modern huts perched on stilts above the shimmering lagoon. Bri’s bungalow, meant for her, Jackson, and the twins, felt glaringly empty. She barely had time to unpack before her phone buzzed. Hoping it was Jackson saying they were on their way, she quickly checked—but her heart sank at the message:

“Sorry, can’t make it. Mare’s in tough labor. Couldn’t leave her. –J”

Her grip tightened on the phone. She stared at the text, willing it to say something different. A pregnant horse over their family? Over her? Bri felt the rage boil over, a dam breaking after days of strain. She stormed out of the bungalow and across the boardwalk to her parents’. Once inside, she crumpled against her mother’s shoulder, finally letting the tears fall. “I can’t do this anymore, Mom. I just can’t.”

The wedding was as stunning as the radiant couple and the island itself. Under a canopy of delicate white orchids, Iris Marie and Jasper exchanged vows on the golden sands, the setting sun painting the sky in hues of coral and lavender. Bonnie served as their flower girl, assisted by little Anastasia, both giggling as they aimlessly tossed petals into the breeze.

Chris, after much grumbling, was roped into being the ring bearer—a role originally meant for Beau. He carried the rings with mock seriousness, shooting pointed looks at his dad and muttering under his breath about being “too old” for this, much to the amusement of everyone present.

As the moment approached, Chase, ever the jokester, leaned over and whispered to Chris with a mischievous grin, “You know what would really sell it? Slide in on your knees like you’re in a rock concert. Or like that movie with Tom Cruise,” He chuckled, clearly not expecting his grandson to take him seriously.

But Chris, always one for theatrics, smirked and decided to run with it—literally. As the music swelled, he sprinted forward and dropped to his knees, sliding across the sand with the ring box held high like a trophy. The entire gathering erupted into laughter, Colton nearly doubling over as Chase clapped a hand to his chest, wheezing with delight.

“Now that’s how you make an entrance! That’s our grandkid right there, Cole. Our genes,” Chase managed between laughs, his voice booming as he clapped his hands together. Keira groaned, shaking her head as she muttered, “Sand everywhere on his designer dress pants. Fantastic. Just fantastic.” Connor, meanwhile, grinned broadly, nudging her lightly. “Yup, that’s my kid. I am so proud. Are you proud, Keke?”

Keira didn’t miss a beat, her eyes glued to her phone as she deadpanned, “Don’t bother me, I’m googling if you can still put 16-year-olds up for adoption.”

Chris stood, brushing sand off his pants with exaggerated flair, milking the moment for all it was worth. With a dramatic flourish, he handed over the rings and bowed deeply. “Your rings, my liege,” he declared, his voice dripping with playful sarcasm, earning another round of chuckles from the small crowd.

As he turned to bow to the guests, Iris, unable to resist, stepped forward and delivered a swift kick to his rear. The force sent Chris sprawling to all fours in the sand, his expression morphing into one of mock agony. “Betrayed!” he cried, rolling onto his back with theatrical flair, clutching his chest as though mortally wounded.

Jasper doubled over with laughter, wiping tears from his eyes as he pointed at Chris. “Now you all know why she chose a short dress!” he managed between gasps, his grin wide enough to rival the Sulani sunset.

Before Chris could strike another absurd pose, Connor strode in and scooped him up like he weighed nothing, effortlessly throwing him over his shoulder as though his teenage son were no more than a ragdoll. Chris squawked indignantly, flailing his arms in protest, but Connor ignored him entirely, turning to address the crowd with a mischievous grin.

“Enough of my brat,” he called out, his voice carrying over the laughter. “Back to the main attraction—my sister and that doofus getting hitched! Preferably before she goes into labor, so let’s get going, all right?”

Even Bri, for the first time in what felt like days, found herself overcome with laughter. Her sorrow momentarily forgotten, she doubled over, barely able to breathe through her fits of giggles. Tears streamed down her cheeks, this time from joy rather than pain, as Chris flailed dramatically on his father’s shoulder, earning yet another burst of laughter from the small circle of family. For a few precious moments, surrounded by the infectious humor of her loved ones, the weight in her chest lifted, replaced by the warmth of shared joy.

A Final Farewell

The next afternoon, as the family prepared to leave Iris and Jasper to their honeymoon, Bri boarded the plane with the rest, a sense of finality settling over her—not just for the trip, but for her hopes of salvaging her marriage. The door to her heart, once ajar for Jackson, now seemed firmly shut. And she felt the need to lock it tight, move furniture in front of it, and throw away the key.

Days later, back in San Sequoia, the family gathered at the Cameron estate for a casual dinner. Jasper and Iris’s absence was glaring—they were still honeymooning—but the gathering retained its lively, familial warmth. That warmth chilled slightly when Jackson showed up late, Beau trailing behind him, his hat tipped low as though in apology. The tension hung like a heavy fog as Jackson greeted everyone, his gaze lingering on Bri.

She didn’t greet him back. Instead, with quiet resolve, she motioned for him to follow her out to the pool house. The familiar space twisted the knife in her chest. Once, this had been her refuge—a place where she had healed before, rebuilt, and rekindled hope for her marriage. Now, its walls were about to witness the opposite: the end of everything they had tried so hard to salvage.

As Jackson stepped inside, he hesitated, then leaned forward to kiss her. Bri placed a firm hand against his chest, stopping him mid-movement. She turned her head away, the sting of his presence too much to bear. Instead, she reached for the stack of papers on the table and handed them to him.

“Sign these,” she said quietly.

Jackson’s brow furrowed as he flipped through the pages, his hands trembling slightly. “Divorce papers?” His voice cracked under the weight of the realization.

“Yes,” Bri replied, her tone steady and resolute. “I’m done, Jackson. You’ve made your choices, and I can’t keep living like this. Losing our house and having me come home to a done deal without any warning? You just deciding to go back where ‘you belong,’ no thought about me or the kids? Missing Iris’ and Jas’ wedding for a horse? That was the last straw. You don’t treat me like a partner anymore. You haven’t for a while. I think trying to save us with those therapy stables actually completely broke us apart.”

Jackson’s voice rose in protest, raw desperation leaking through his words. “I get yer mad, and I am very sorry, I am workin’ on findin’ a way to fix this. I am sorry I missed the weddin’ but the horses are our livelihood, Bri! You know that—”

“No,” she interrupted, her voice sharp but controlled. “They’re your livelihood. Your priority. And you’ve made that clear. There is no fixing this. We’ve tried, Jackson. We’ve tried so hard. Ever since we were teens we’ve been struggling to make this work and we knew, even then, at 16, 17, 18 and ever since, that this was doomed. Everyone knew it, everyone saw it, everyone told us. They were right. YOU were right all along—we’re too different. So please, just sign. If you feel anything at all for me, sign. You can’t fix this, I can’t fix this, we can’t fix this. There is no use dragging it out. I will tell you, not as a threat, not yet, but the way you have handled all this does give me certain legal alternatives on dissolving our marriage even if you choose not to sign. THIS is me being nice, letting you go easy. But I can make it rough, and I will. I want out. ASAP.”

The silence in the room was suffocating, the weight of her words settling heavily between them. Jackson’s hand hovered over the pen, hesitation etched into every line of his face. Finally, his shoulders slumped, and he scribbled his name on the pages, initialing where required. When he looked up at her, his eyes glistened with regret.

“I never stopped loving you, Bri,” he said quietly.

Bri’s resolve faltered for a moment as her voice broke. “I never stopped loving you either. I’m not sure I even can. But sometimes, love just isn’t enough. For us, it was never just about love, and that’s exactly why I need this to happen—right now. I am so damn tired of holding on to hope, whenever we failed again and are both scrambling to find ways to stay together, only to fail again and again. At first it seemed determined, now it feels stupid and cruel. If we don’t get divorced, I can’t start healing. There’s an appointment on Monday afternoon at the courthouse to finalize it in front of the judge. We have connections and they made that happen so fast, just for us. Yes, I played the VIP cards. If you can’t make it, which, with you is always an option, it will just be done in absentia. That’s your choice.

“Oh, and I know you normally stay here, with me in the pool house, or at least you used to last time we were divorced, but I think this time you need to stay in the main house or with Connor. No offense, but you REALLY hurt me this time, Jackson, and I really need distance. I may never be able to stop loving you, but I REALLY do not like you right now. Not at all. You make me sick.”

Jackson’s shoulders sank further, the last remnants of fight leaving him as he stood in the space that had once been their haven. In that moment, everything felt final—irrevocable. Bri’s hand trembled as she took the papers back, but her eyes remained steady. The door to her heart was no longer just closed; it was locked tight, and she was ready to move the furniture in front of it.

Turn The Page

On the morning of the court date, the sun rose in soft hues over San Sequoia, painting the city in muted pinks and oranges. Bri woke up in her pool house, her nerves already frayed. Despite her resolve, a small part of her still wondered if Jackson would show. She had spent the past two days vacillating between anger, sadness, and an unsettling calm. Bonnie had stayed with her grandparents in the main house the night before, and the quiet of the roomy but cozy two-bedroom house seemed to amplify her thoughts, each one heavier than the last.

Her parents had offered, more than once, to accompany her to the courthouse that morning. “You shouldn’t have to do this alone,” her mother had insisted, her concern palpable. Even Connor had chimed in, offering to take the day off and wait with her. But Bri had politely declined. As tempting as the safety net of family was, this was something she felt she needed to do on her own. It wasn’t about being strong; it was about reclaiming a piece of herself, about facing the end of this chapter without leaning on anyone else to hold her steady. If she was going to move forward, it had to start here—with her.

A few hours later, at the courthouse, Bri sat in a sterile waiting room, the clock ticking louder than usual. She wore a simple but elegant black dress, her hair pinned neatly back. It wasn’t about impressing anyone—it was armor, a way to feel put together as her world shifted irrevocably. Across from her, a judge’s assistant shuffled papers, occasionally glancing at the door.

Ten minutes until the scheduled appointment. Bri tapped her foot nervously. Her lawyer, seated beside her, offered a tight, professional smile. “If he doesn’t come, we proceed as planned. He signed the documents, so it’s mostly procedural at this point.”

Bri nodded, though her heart felt heavy. This was it—the moment they both let go of what they had fought so hard to hold onto. She glanced at the door again, almost willing it to swing open.

But it didn’t.

Five minutes until the hearing. The clock’s relentless ticking amplified every emotion brewing in Bri’s chest. She glanced at the door one last time, holding onto a shred of hope she didn’t even want to admit was still there. But the doorway remained empty. The world beyond it, silent.

Her phone in her grip remained quiet, its screen blank. No calls. No texts. Nothing from Jackson.

Bri exhaled sharply, willing herself to stay composed. She straightened her posture, smoothed the fabric of her dress, and turned to face her lawyer. “Let’s do this.”

The lawyer gave her a small nod, and together, they walked into the courtroom. Bri’s heels clicked against the tile floor, echoing in the chamber like a slow, somber drumbeat. The judge glanced briefly at the empty seat meant for Jackson before addressing Bri.

The proceedings were swift. The judge confirmed the paperwork, asked a few formal questions, and then spoke the words that made the end official. “Your divorce is finalized.”

Bri’s breath hitched for a moment, but she nodded in acknowledgment, her voice steady as she responded. “Thank you, Your Honor.”

As she exited the courtroom, the cool air of the hallway greeted her like a wake-up call. She paused by a window overlooking the city, watching the muted hustle of life outside. Somewhere out there, Jackson was probably tending to his ranch, as removed from this moment as he had been from so many of their moments before.

This time, there was no last-minute apology. No cowboy charm to soften the blow. Just silence—and Bri finally understood that silence said everything she needed to hear.

Bri pushed through the heavy courthouse doors, the world outside greeting her in a kaleidoscope of sounds and movement. The buzz of San Sequoia’s streets was as constant and unyielding as the ocean tide—a symphony of car horns, distant sirens, and the chatter of tourists weaving through the city. The afternoon sunlight glinted off the towering steel and glass buildings, dappling the stone steps beneath her feet. A cool breeze rolled in from the bay, carrying with it the faint scent of saltwater and eucalyptus.

She paused on the top step, gripping the railing briefly as the dizziness of the moment hit her. It was done. Years of love, loss, and longing condensed into a signed document and a few formal words spoken in a sterile room. The weight of it all pressed against her chest, a strange mixture of sadness and relief swirling together.

She closed her eyes for a moment, letting the breeze brush against her skin. Her heart ached, but beneath that ache, there was something else—a faint, flickering ember of possibility. She inhaled deeply, the air filling her lungs like a first breath after being underwater for too long.

When Bri opened her eyes, the city unfolded before her, sprawling and unpredictable. It wasn’t comforting, not yet. But it was hers now. A new chapter. A blank page.

With a quiet nod to herself, she adjusted the strap of her purse over her shoulder, stepped down from the courthouse, and started walking down the street. The sunlight followed her, illuminating her path toward a future she couldn’t yet see but was finally ready to face.