Chapter 23

CHAPTER 23

Holland

Z urich is an amazing place to work and live and I love it here.

I truly do.

It's a city of captivating contrasts blending old-world charm and modern sophistication. I've been here for five years and never tire of the streets lined with charming cafés, high-end boutiques and art galleries. The tranquility of Lake Zurich and the imposing beauty of the Alps make it hard to imagine living anywhere else. And living abroad? Well, it fuels my sense of independence and anonymity that had been the mantra by which I've been living my life.

What it's not is Shelbyville. I miss the close-knit community, sprawling green landscapes and sense of belonging that Zurich's cosmopolitan environment lacks. The memories of my past, the warmth of the Blackburn family, and the deep roots I have in Shelbyville tug at my heartstrings, making me nostalgic for the simplicity and genuine connections I left behind.

But nothing makes me yearn quite like Trey Blackburn.

Luckily, in the six days I've been back, I've been immersed in work, which has kept my brain mostly occupied. The hardest part is the evenings when I get home and before I go to sleep, replaying every single interaction I had with Trey, right up until the time he broke my heart for the second time.

I'm bracing for another evening just like that as I finish up my work for the day. The bustling office in Zurich is a far cry from the quiet, sprawling fields of Shelbyville. Here, the air is filled with the hum of conversations in multiple languages, the click of keyboards, and the distant sound of traffic from the streets below. I'm sitting at my desk, surrounded by towering stacks of paperwork, my computer screen glowing with spreadsheets and emails that need my attention. My colleagues are wrapping up for the day, gathering their belongings and chatting in German and French about evening plans.

I finish up a report, hit Send, and lean back in my chair, stretching my arms above my head. My office is on the fifth floor of a modern office building in Zurich-West, a trendy, revitalized industrial area but as I glance around and don't see any personal photographs or knickknacks to warm up the place, I know this will never be anything more than a job to me.

Gathering my leather satchel, I pull out my tennis shoes and swap my high heels, stuffing them in their place. I live in Old Town, which is about three and a half kilometers from my office. While I could jump on the S-Bahn for a quick train ride home, Zurich is such a bike-friendly city that I opt for that mode of transportation when the weather permits. August in Zurich is beautiful, and I think I'll stop at a café near my apartment for a pastry and enjoy the outdoors before I go inside to sulk about how much I miss Shelbyville.

And Trey.

Nabbing my bicycle helmet, I head toward the elevator.

"Gute Nacht, Holland," one of my colleagues, Franziska, calls out as I walk by her office.

"Gute Nacht," I reply with a smile, hitching my satchel over my shoulder.

Outside, the air is crisp and fresh, a gentle breeze carrying the scent of the river. I unlock my bicycle from the rack and mount it, adjusting my helmet before setting off. The streets of Zurich-West bustle with activity, but the city's efficient bike lanes make it easy to navigate through traffic. I pedal with ease, enjoying the smooth ride and the sense of freedom that comes with it.

As I move toward Old Town, the scenery gradually changes. The modern buildings of Zurich-West give way to the charming, historic architecture of the city center. The transition is almost seamless, yet distinctly noticeable. The streets narrow, and cobblestones replace the asphalt. I follow the Limmat River for a while, the water shimmering in the golden light of the setting sun. I pass under the iconic Prime Tower, Zurich's tallest building, and then through busy Hardbrücke, where trams and trains converge in a symphony of urban motion.

Entering Old Town feels like stepping into another era. I slow down, taking in the sights and sounds of this historic quarter. The narrow alleyways are lined with medieval buildings, their facades painted in warm, inviting colors. Small squares open up unexpectedly, each with its own unique charm.

I ride past Grossmünster, the twin-towered church that stands as a symbol of Zurich's rich history. The scent of freshly baked bread and pastries wafts from nearby bakeries, mingling with the aroma of coffee from the many cafés that dot the area.

My apartment is just half a block away, located in a charming old building with a red-tiled roof, but I stop at Café Lindenhof, my favorite place to hang out. After locking up my bike at a rack, I nab an outdoor table and wait patiently for a passing waiter to notice me.

My phone rings and I pull it out of my bag. I see it's from the broker I hired to sell the printshop. "Hello?"

"Hello, Ms. Rhodes," Carl Frainz says, his voice brisk and professional. "I have some good news. We've received an offer for the printshop." His tone reflects the excitement of someone about to earn a commission. "Actually, a very generous one, more than we initially anticipated."

My heart skips a beat. "Really? Um… that's great."

"More than great," he exclaims. "The offer includes a cash payment that's quite substantial, and they're willing to take on the existing debt. I've just emailed you the details. They also plan to keep all the current employees, which I know was a concern for you."

Butterflies take flight in my stomach and my chest tightens. This is exactly what I wanted and yet I feel slightly panicky. "Okay, Carl. I'll review it tonight and get back to you."

"It's a solid offer, Holland. I think you should seriously consider it."

I take a deep breath, the burden of this decision looming over me. "Like I said… I'll review it, but I can tell you no matter what the offer is, I'd like a little time to think about it."

The broker sounds surprised. "What's there to think about? It's more than you expected. This is a great opportunity, and I thought you were eager to sell it."

"I know," I say, trying to sound more certain than I feel. "I just want to make sure."

"All right," he concedes. "But don't take too long. These kinds of offers don't come around often."

"I understand. Thank you for letting me know."

After hanging up, I tap my phone against my chin, my mind racing. Why am I hesitating? I don't know what the amount is yet but based on Carl's excitement, I'm guessing it's pretty damn good. Regardless of the amount, unloading the shop would allow me to fully close that chapter of my life. Yet, the thought of letting it go feels like severing my last tether to Shelbyville and to the possibility of things working out with Trey.

Yes… I haven't completely given up on him. I might have left, moved back to Zurich and gone on with my life, but I am nurturing a small flame of hope because Trey made this decision under extreme emotional duress. It would be silly of me not to have some hope that he'll come to his senses.

Yes, this time, it's different. Eleven years ago, I was angry, confused and heartbroken. Trey hurt me and that was all on him. Now, I understand the tortured emotions he's dealing with. I can't blame him for the way he feels, and I can't shake the hope that maybe, just maybe, he'll come around.

Needing to talk to someone, I call Kat. It's just past noon in Kentucky and I'm hoping to catch her on a lunch break.

The phone rings a few times before she picks up. "Hey, Holland," she says, her voice cheerful, which makes me smile. I last saw her at Wade's funeral, crying her eyes out. "How are you?"

"I'm all right," I reply, trying to sound casual. "Just wanted to check in. How's everyone doing?"

"Getting by," she says with a sigh. "We're hanging in there. Ethan's keeping us all busy with the farm work, but what else is new, right?"

I hear the sounds of the barn in the background—horses nickering, the clatter of tools. "How's Fi?"

"She's strong, you know that. But it's been tough. We all miss Wade so much."

I hesitate, then ask, "And Trey?"

Kat makes a disgruntled sound. "Well, I wouldn't exactly know since he's so closed off. He won't talk to anyone."

"He's been through a lot," I murmur.

Kat's laugh is mirthless. "We've all been through a lot, Holland. You included. But we're all banding together and he's off by himself, being all tortured and angry. And now I'm so angry at him. I know Gabe's tired of me bitching about it but I'm so ready for him to get over himself."

"Kat," I chastise.

"No!" she exclaims. "You know what… yes, we're all hurting. But do you know who's in the most pain? Our parents. They lost a son and they're pulling on a strength that's unbelievable. They raised Trey to be better than this… this… misplaced sense of guilt. And what he doesn't realize is that by pulling away, they feel like they've lost two sons. He needs to get his head out of his ass."

She pauses for air and lets out a maniacal laugh. "Sorry… just unloaded on you."

"I understand," I say. "But he's mourning Wade on top of being overcome with that guilt, thinking his fight caused Wade's death."

Kat is silent before she speaks again. "I don't think that's it, Holland. I think he's regretting losing you."

I don't want to get my hopes up, but Kat's words make my heart ache. "I don't know, Kat. He was pretty clear that this was an absolute choice."

"I know my brother," she insists. "He's stubborn, but he's not immune to regret. Just give him time."

Time is all I have because my life is moving on, with or without Trey.

We chat a bit more, catching up on the latest farm news and reminiscing about better times. I could kick myself in the ass for not staying in touch with Kat and Abby when I left home eleven years ago. It's like we never had that break in our friendship now, and I vow to never let this go again.

Eventually, the conversation turns back to my future plans. "I got an offer on the printshop," I tell her. "Supposedly it's a good one, but I haven't reviewed the details yet. I'll do that tonight."

"Oh, wow. That was fast."

"Yeah… but I'm not sure what I'm going to do."

Kat's silent for a beat before asking, "Is there a chance you'll come back and run it?"

"No," I say quickly. "No, there would be no reason. Not when…"

My words trail off, but she knows what I mean.

Not when Trey and I are no longer a thing.

Kat's voice is encouraging. "Don't rush it. You'll know what's right when the time comes. And who knows… maybe you're meant to come home permanently. You never know what the future holds."

After we hang up, I watch the pedestrians walking by. Zurich… this beautiful, vibrant city, full of opportunities. But my heart is still in Shelbyville, with the Blackburns, with Trey. I'm torn between moving on and holding on to the hope that things might still work out.

Indecision washes over me, but one thing is clear: I need to follow my heart wherever it leads me. And for now, it's telling me to wait, to see if there's still a chance for me and Trey.