Chapter 66

• The wildflowers, a vibrant splash of color against the emerald green of the meadow, seemed to mirror the blossoming hope in Cleo’s heart. The air, crisp and clean, carried the scent of pine and damp earth, a fragrance far removed from the suffocating atmosphere of her past life. They had chosen this remote farmhouse, nestled amongst rolling hills, deliberately, carefully. It wasn’t just a place to hide; it was a symbol, a tangible representation of their new beginning. The peeling paint on the farmhouse, the overgrown garden, even the slightly crooked fence, all spoke of neglect, of a past that needed tending, a parallel to their own lives.
• Rowan, ever practical, immediately set about repairing the fences, his strong hands working with a focused energy that belied the turmoil he still carried within. He found a strange solace in the physical labor, a tangible way to channel his anxieties, to build something solid and enduring amidst the uncertainty. He saw this farmhouse not just as a shelter, but as a foundation, a testament to their commitment to building a future together. The work was hard, demanding, but it also provided a sense of purpose, a welcome distraction from the ever-present memories of their escape.
• Cleo, meanwhile, focused her energy on the garden. The neglected rows of vegetables and wildflowers were a canvas waiting to be revitalized. With a gentle touch, a patient hand, she coaxed life back into the dormant soil, nurturing the seedlings with the same care and attention she now showered upon herself. Each weed pulled, each seed planted, was a small act of defiance, a rejection of the barrenness that had defined her life under Marcus’s control. The vibrant colors of the flowers became a visual representation of the healing that was taking place within her.