Chapter 13

Valyn never mentioned to Fred that she had walked in on Poppi and Madden about to kiss. She reminded them daily to stay away from one another and to not be alone.

For the past two weeks, they had avoided each other completely. Madden filled his time elsewhere, longer hours at the law firm, late nights that no one questioned, and more often than not, those hours seemed to include Anchor.

Poppi noticed.

She noticed the way his name came up in passing conversations, always tied to Anchor’s. The way Anchor laughed a little louder when Madden was around. The way Madden, who once lingered in doorways and stables and spaces that felt too small for both of them, now seemed perfectly content being anywhere Poppi wasn’t.

So Poppi made herself busy too.

She spent more time at the stables, burying herself in routines that didn’t ask questions, such as feeding, brushing, cleaning, and repeating. The horses didn’t look at her differently. They didn’t remind her of almost-kisses or stolen moments that now felt like something she must have imagined.

Still, there were moments, quiet, unguarded ones, when the image crept in anyway. Madden standing too close to Anchor. His hand brushing hers. That easy smile he used to give Poppi.

And that was when the jealousy hit. She could handle hearing about Anchor, but seeing them together was another thing.

She had managed to avoid them both.

Until one afternoon, she didn’t.

Poppi had just finished rinsing out a bucket when she heard voices drifting from the other side of the barn. Light. Easy. Familiar.

She froze. She knew that laugh. Slowly, against her better judgment, she stepped closer to the open doorway, just enough to see without being seen.

Madden sat there, relaxed in a way she hadn’t seen in weeks. Anchor was beside him. They were sitting very close. Too close. Their shoulders brushed like it was nothing, like it had always been that way.

Anchor said something Poppi couldn’t quite hear, but Madden smiled softly at her and shook his head before reaching out and touching his fingers lightly on her arm.

The gesture was small. Casual. It hit Poppi like a punch to the gut. Poppi’s grip tightened around the edge of the doorframe. That was hers.

Not the touch exactly, but the ease of it. The familiarity. The way he looked at someone when he wasn’t holding back.

She should’ve left. She knew she should’ve left. But she didn’t. And that was when Madden looked up. Like he felt it. Like he always did.

His eyes landed on her instantly, cutting through the space between them. The smile on his face didn’t disappear completely—but it changed. Tightened. Like something real had just broken through whatever version of normal he’d been trying to hold onto.

For a second, neither of them moved. Poppi’s breath became quicker, her fingers slipping from the doorframe.

He was still looking at Poppi. And there it was, that pull. The same one they’d been pretending didn’t exist for two weeks.

Poppi shook her head slightly, a silent don’t, though she wasn’t even sure what she was asking him not to do.

Remember? Care? Come after her?

She didn’t wait to find out.

Poppi stepped back, turning quickly and walking away before either of them could say a word. Her pace picked up as she reached the stalls, grabbing onto the first task she could find like it might steady her.

It didn’t. Because now it wasn’t just in her head. He’d seen her. He’d felt it too. And somehow, that made it worse. Because avoiding him was one thing.

But knowing he still looked at her like that, while sitting next to someone else, was something else entirely.