Mac had no idea how walking away from Hudson could hurt so fucking bad when they hadn’t even been together in the first place. Logically speaking, this time should’ve hurt less than the first time he’d walked away. She’d already been without him for ten years, had learned to live without him here, and she’d been fine.

Okay, so not fine, but passable.

But now that she’d had these past three weeks with him, laughing and joking with her, challenging her, loving her, she wasn’t sure how she was supposed to go back to how things used to be. She didn’t want to.

Thankfully, she had some time before she’d have to. Before she’d slip back into the status quo, where she simply coasted through her life with no real focus. No real drive. No real…anything.

Now, her focus was, blessedly, on Havenbrook and keeping things afloat while her daddy was in recovery mode, driving her momma absolutely crazy. So that was where she was spending nearly all her waking hours—from sunup to sundown, and a few extra hours on either end. Town hall had become her second home. And the strange part was, she was even starting to…enjoy it?

She wasn’t sure if it was the reprieve it provided from the sad reality that was her life, or if she really, truly liked being involved with the town in this way. She’d never really had a chance to challenge herself in anything but Wilderness Bound the entirety of her adult life, and this was kind of exhilarating.

She’d kept her word to herself and hadn’t rocked the boat—not really. So, she’d done a few little things here and there—like writing up a proposal for a new dog park, or propositioning Atticus and Darcy to sponsor a community garden in the unused space behind their businesses—but she’d left the big things alone. She hadn’t touched the town infrastructure that was in desperate need of an overhaul, from roads to bridges to public transportation, or even mentioned implementing an SAR team because of the large funds those items would take—not to mention the roadblocks she’d run into in the form of the good old boys for daring to bring new ideas to the table.

As many people as were passing on positive reports to her daddy of what she’d been doing at town hall, she knew just as many were doing the opposite and complaining about every step she took. She couldn’t win, but that was one thing she’d taken with her from pre-acting-mayor Mac—she ignored it as best she could and went about her business as if it didn’t bother her at all.

“All right, crazy pants.” Avery blew into Mac’s office in a cloud of red hair and irritation, her hands laden with takeout bags. “Since I’m obviously not going to get you out of here at a decent hour, I brought takeout.”

“You didn’t have—”

“Shut up.” She dropped the bags on top of the paperwork Mac had been reading over before shrugging out of her coat and tossing it on a side chair. “I’m starving, Will is already gone for the day like a normal human being, and I’m on duty for tonight.”

“What do you mean, you’re on duty? On duty for what?”

“Babysitting,” Avery said distractedly as she dug through the bags. “I swear, if they didn’t give me four fortune cookies like I specifically asked for, I’m gonna—”

“Who’re you babysittin’?”

Avery glanced up at her with a stare that suggested Mac couldn’t be that stupid. “Uh, you.”

“Me?” Mac scoffed. “What the hell do I need a babysitter for?”

“When’s the last time you ate?”

“I don’t see what that has to do with anything.”

“Answer the question.”

“Lunch.”

“Mhmm…with Will.” Avery grabbed a container of what looked like chicken lo mein, fell into a chair, and dug into the box with a pair of chopsticks. Around a bite, she said, “And before that?”

“Um…last night.”

Avery raised a brow as she chewed, as if she couldn’t even be bothered with a response.

“What? I don’t usually eat breakfast.”

The brow got higher, and this time, Avery’s foot started tapping a beat on the floor.

Okay, so Mac did usually eat breakfast, but she hadn’t been hungry lately. That wasn’t a crime. She also hadn’t really gone anywhere—like The Willow Tree, or, you know, the grocery store—so her food supply was pitiful. But, well, she was just so tired after work and wanted to go straight home and face-plant into her bed. And she hadn’t been in the mood to talk, so she didn’t want to chance running into anyone while she was out. Like…Edna. If she happened to avoid an encounter with Hudson while she was at it, well…

“You don’t have to treat me like I’m a child.”

“Your lack of basic adulting says otherwise.”

Mac rolled her eyes and finally dug into the bag in front of her, the smells too enticing to ignore. Settling on General Tso’s chicken, she grabbed a fork—Avery was a show-off with those damn chopsticks—and settled back into her chair.

Avery lifted her chin toward the paperwork strewn across Mac’s desk. “Whatcha working on?”

“Just gettin’ my ducks in a row before I approach Atticus and Darcy with the proposal.” She’d casually suggested it to them earlier in the week, and they’d both been receptive—the truce between them that Mac had initiated had paved the way for that nicely—but she still wanted to make sure her i’s were dotted and her t’s were crossed.

“It’s a great idea, Mac. And the funds the produce from the garden will bring in will go a long way in wiping out student lunch debt at the elementary school. People will be flocking to their businesses just to support them.”

“I hope so.”

But Mac still felt a nagging tug in her belly that this wasn’t what she should be doing—that it wasn’t her job to be pushing for things like this because she was only there temporarily. While, yes, what she was doing was for the good of Havenbrook, others may not see it that way. They may flat out reject it, or report back to her daddy that she was turning the town soft. She could hear the arguments now—Kids can pay for their own lunches, and if they can’t, their parents should just work harder.

But, well, as much as she didn’t want to rock the boat, she also didn’t want to sit by when she had the platform to affect real change in their town. So maybe a tiny little nudge wouldn’t hurt. Not too far…just a little.

“Hey,” Avery said, pointing toward Mac with her chopsticks. “Open the bottom left drawer.”

Mac furrowed her brow but did as Avery asked, pulling open the drawer. My God, her daddy’s desk was a complete pigsty. How he managed to make such a mess when he didn’t do any actual work was beyond her.

“You have a need for some used envelopes or extra napkins?” she asked.

“Nope, what I want is all the way at the back. Careful while you dig—never know what you’ll find in Dick’s drawers.”

Mac screwed up her face in disgust, definitely not interested in blindly sticking her hand in to feel around for God knew what. Instead, she grabbed a pencil from the desk and pushed the items aside with the eraser end, her gaze snapping to Avery’s when she uncovered something interesting.

Dropping the pencil on the desk, she grabbed the bottle of amber liquid and lifted it out by the neck. “Whiskey?”

“Not my favorite, but desperate times call for desperate measures.” Avery plucked two paper cups out of her purse, separated them, and dropped them on the desk. “Fill ’er up.”

“You always have those?” Mac gestured to the cups.

“Never know when the urge to get tipsy will arise.”

Mac grinned, pouring a healthy dose into each cup. “Why am I not surprised that my daddy—the man leading the charge against The Willow Tree openin’ in town—has liquor at work?”

“Because he’s predictable. Thou doth protest too much.”

“We drinkin’ to forget something tonight?” Whiskey wasn’t Mac’s favorite either, but beggars couldn’t be choosers.

Avery picked up her glass, knocking the edge against Mac’s before bringing it to her lips. Over the rim, she met Mac’s gaze. “You tell me.”

“Tell you what?”

Avery blew out a frustrated breath and rolled her eyes. “Cut the shit, Mac. I’m not Will. I get if you don’t want to talk to her about whatever is going on with you and Hudson—she and Finn are nauseatingly in love—but I’m single as fuck, and I give damn good advice.”

Mac opened her mouth to protest, but instead found the whole story spilling out. She recounted everything that’d happened between her and Hudson—both in the weeks since he’d been home, and in the years he’d been gone. Well, almost everything. She couldn’t quite manage to rehash the cutting words Hudson had said at her place. When he’d told her she wasn’t— Well, it didn’t matter because she wasn’t thinking about that right now. Crying in front of Avery would be highly inconvenient.

With her gaze connected to Mac’s, Avery demolished the entire container of lo mein while Mac talked. She interjected her humor every so often, but for the most part, she listened quietly.

Too quietly.

“Are you just gonna stare at me, Ms. Damn Good Advice?” Mac finally asked after long moments of silence.

“Just trying to figure out how to approach this.”

“No approachin’ necessary. Just spit it out.”

Avery hummed and leaned back in her chair, crossing her legs, one high-heeled boot swinging. “You know, Will had this same problem. Had to talk her out of being an idiot, too.”

Mac rolled her eyes, remembering Will mentioning something about that back when Hudson had first arrived in town. “She told me.”

“Looks like it got through,” Avery said dryly.

Mac exhaled long and low, shaking her head. “Her and Finn’s situation was completely different.”

“Maybe.” Avery shrugged, tossing back the rest of her whiskey. “But the regrets would still be the same. And they’re a real bitch to live with. That something you want for the rest of your life? What-ifs and what-could’ve-beens?”