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“Wow. That’s rough.”

“Yep.”

“You finally find the girl, and she’s leaving.”

“Mmhmm.”

“What does that mean for you two? She’s obviously into you.”

“No idea.”

“You haven’t talked about it?”

Sam shook his head.

“You can’t let her leave.”

“I don’t own her. And I don’t want to come across as manipulative or anything like that.”

“I know you don’t own her. I didn’t mean it like that. Have you told her how you feel? Does she know what you just told me?”

“Not in as much detail.”

“Bro, what are you doing?” Lucas scoffed. “Tell her. It might make her stay.”

“I don’t want her to stay because of something I’ve said. I want her to want to stay for herself. For everything Bells can give her, not just me. It’s a hard line to walk. I figured if I show her how I feel, she’ll factor that in.”

Lucas stared at him. “I get that, I really do, but you have to tell her how serious this is for you. Have you even talked about… I don’t know, labels or whatever?”

“We’re not in grade seven! Will you go out with me?” Sam exaggerated his voice higher, like a pre-teen.

Lucas laughed. “Seriously though, if she leaves and you haven’t told her how you really feel and where you see it going, you’d regret it.”

Sam didn’t have a reply for that. He knew Lucas had a point.

“Why don’t you just subtly point out all the other things she has going on? She’s got her mum here, her friends. She was selling jewellery today. She’s got her own business. She has you.” Lucas looked over at Sam, who was leaning back in his chair, beer in hand. “And you have to tell her how you feel. Put a label on it.”

“I don’t want to freak her out!”

“Bro, trust me, women dig labels.”

Sam shook his head with a chuckle. He could see her next to him for the rest of his life, so clearly. But he could tell she was often off in her own thoughts, like she wasn’t fully present.

“I get it, man, I really do. You’re a good guy. I just don’t want you to be in a situation where she thinks it’s just something casual for you, when even I know it’s not.”

Sam nodded. He had a lot to think about. But his best mate was only in town for a few days, so he decided he’d think on it later.

Hazel made her way up the creaky stairs to the studio. Sam was working in the kitchen, and all morning she’d been resisting the urge to watch him work. Trying not to look at the way his arms flexed as he carried things, the way his shirt lifted when he extended his arms, showing his toned golden stomach. Hazel had nearly worked herself up into a sweat, so she’d hightailed it out of the kitchen.

In the studio, Bailey was chewing his stuffed bear by Molly’s easel. Her mother was touching up one of the pansy prints.

“Nearly finished?” Hazel asked.

“Yes, I wasn’t quite happy with the colour of this petal.” Molly carefully applied a small amount of pale blue paint to her brush and lightly dabbed at the flower.

Hazel walked over to one of the large windows and stared. She looked out, past the fields and towards the mountains. She could see tiny houses perched along the mountain side, small breaks between the green trees.

“I was thinking, maybe we could photograph some more of your jewellery to pop on my website?”