Well, crap. Alaska it was. Becca sighed and pulled her phone close with one hand, the other tucked around her puppy. Maybe he’d call her and confess that he’d changed his mind. That it had been a mistake. He’d overreacted, upset because his daughter was upset. That was reasonable.

She wanted him to call and say he wasn’t going back to Foxtail after all.

She stared and stared at the phone, but it remained silent.

No texts.

No calls.

No nothing.

CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

Becca stayed in bed for the rest of the night, eating ice cream doused in chocolate syrup to drown her sorrows and watching romantic comedies that made her bawl every time the hero did something sweet for the heroine. She fell asleep with the television on, puppy in her arms, and somehow she got through the first day of her breakup without completely shattering.

Hank didn’t call or text, and she started to realize that this truly was a done thing between them. That there was no more Hank and Becca. It hurt, and she would grieve it and move on as best she could.

So she got dressed, walked the puppy, fixed her hair, and brushed her teeth. She stared down at the birth control she’d forgotten to take last night and then chucked the entire package into the garbage. The next time she had sex with someone, it was going to be her forever partner. No more of this waiting for a family. If her soul mate wasn’t ready, then they weren’t soul mates.

Of course, that just made her hurt worse, because Hank was so good with his daughter. He’d love more kids, she knew, and he’d be just as attentive a dad to them as he was to Libby. He’d been perfect for her.

Except she’d declared her love and declared that she wasn’t moving, and that had killed everything.

Feeling wooden, Becca finished getting ready and opened her salon as if it was any other normal day. Her day was full thanks to the appointments she’d pushed from yesterday to today, and she found herself a bit too busy to focus on her grieving. If someone commented on her red eyes and nose, she blamed allergies. If someone asked about Hank and their dating, she quickly changed the subject, asking about grandchildren or the ranch, or anything else to distract. And she somehow got through the day without crumbling.

Mostly.

Becca was just sitting down to take a quick break between clients when the door to the salon opened and Amy peeked in. Her friend was dressed in a peach dress with a nipped waist and a swingy skirt that made her look lean and beautiful, setting off her dark ponytail. She wore a look of concern on her face as she slipped inside. “Knock-knock. Got a moment?”