Violet wasn't sure how much sleep she'd gotten, but between moving from the kitchen to the shower and then finally to the bed, she knew that it hadn't been enough. Still, she couldn’t ignore the blaring of her Hamilton cast album from downstairs, and as she rolled over in the sheets to look at Wade, she was grateful to see that he was still asleep.

If he'd been awake, she wasn't sure what she would say to him. "Thanks for the world's most mind-blowing sex" didn't seem like the right way to start the day, but then again, if he was even slightly conscious, she wasn't sure she'd be able to trust herself not to fall back into his arms and start all over again.

Quietly, she slipped from the bed and collected the clothes she'd thankfully remembered to take with her the night before, then wriggled into them before tiptoeing to her room and putting her robe on. Then, with the creak of her bedroom door, she made her way down the stairs to face Sam.

He was sitting at the table, already fully dressed in his George Washington costume with his white wig sitting lazily on top of his mop of blond curls, and when she caught sight of him she had to suppress a grin.

"What are you doing?" she asked.

He looked up at her, still mouthing along with the lyrics to the song he was playing, but paused to say, "Getting ready for the parade. Do we have hard tack and coffee?"

"I'm sorry?"

"It's what the soldiers ate on long walks. The parade is going to be a long walk."

Violet rolled her eyes. "You can have toast and a very little bit of my coffee. How does that sound?"

Sam frowned, but eventually agreed, and as she moved off to start the coffee pot, her ears pricked up at the sound of creaking floorboards above her.

Then, before long, he was standing in the doorway again, just as he had last night, but there was no part of her that wanted to move away. Not anymore.

"Good morning." He scrubbed a hand over the back of his neck and his robe peaked open to show her the smallest hint of his bare chest.

"Good morning, " Heat was rising in her cheeks again, and she turned away from him to grab a few mugs from the cabinet behind her.

In the space of an instant, he was there, the whole of his body pressed against her as he circled his arms around her shoulders, his lips brushing her neck.

"Don't." She whispered, "Sam might see."

But she snuggled against him all the same, breathing deep as his nose nuzzled against her hair.

This was what it would be like if he stayed. They'd get up in the morning and get Sam ready for school. Almost like a family.

Stupid. That was a stupid thought.

They'd only been together for one night, and still she felt like everything had changed. After all, would he really have gotten involved with her to just pack up and leave? Would he have gone to the hayride last night if he wasn't willing to give Sapphire Falls another chance?

Gently, Wade pulled away from her, but not before dropping another surreptitious kiss on her neck.

"How did you sleep?" he asked.

"Well, for what little sleep I got..." She tossed a grin at him, then poured a mug of coffee and held it out to him.

He took it gratefully. "Last night was incredible."

"Yeah. I'm thinking I have to agree. You know--"

"Violet!" Sam's call cut through her thoughts and she walked into the next room to find the table--and his toast--abandoned. Instead, he was kneeling in the foyer, staring down at his backpack with a look of abject horror on his face.

"What's wrong?" she asked.

"I can't find my teeth," His chin wrinkled slightly, and she held up a hand to calm him.

"What do you mean?" Wade appeared at her shoulder and she turned to explain.

"He has false teeth for his costume. He wanted it to be as accurate as possible."

"Of course he did." Wade nodded. "We'll find them, bud. Do you know where the last place you had them was?"

Sam rattled off a list of places the teeth might have gotten to, and when he was finished the great hunt began. They turned over sofa cushions, toy boxes, and bookshelves, and by the time a full half hour had elapsed, Violet had started to get desperate. She checked her own bedside table and desk, then, with no other options, made her way into Wade's room.

Blushing at the broken pair of underwear she'd forgotten on his floor the night before, she shoved them in her pocket, and then made for his bedside table. Inside, there wasn't much of anything. Just his wallet, his keys, and...

Violet blinked, and then fingered the two slender pieces of paper inside.

Tickets. Travel vouchers with the names "Wade Farrow" and "Sam Morgan" printed clearly across them.

He'd never meant to give Sapphire Falls a fair shot.

He was going to tear Sam from her, from his home. After everything...

She frowned at the tickets, again, trying to fight through the hurt to try and make sense of what she was looking at. It was his right, after all, to take Sam back to Philadelphia. She knew he had a life there, a job. He couldn't give up everything he'd worked for because they'd spent a single night together.

But then...

Why had he done it?

She hadn't thrown herself at him. He'd been the one to seduce her. Her, who was losing everything. Her job, the little boy who meant the world to her, and now Wade too?

Had he not considered that? Had he not thought at all about what he was doing to her?

But then, wasn’t it possible that these were some remnant of the plans he’d had before? That maybe. After spending the night with her, he’d decided to stay?

She blinked, thinking back to the photos of Wade in his office, in the bars, out with his friends. She was kidding herself. She knew. She’d always known. Sapphire Falls wasn’t the place for Wade, and whether she was here or not had never mattered.

Swallowing hard, she shoved the tickets back in their rightful place just as Sam rushed into the room, grinning with a face full of ivory-colored teeth.

"Got them," he said.

"Great. I'll go get dressed." He bolted from the room again and she watched him go, thinking hard about how she was going to ask Wade about the tickets and, more importantly, how she was going to keep herself from crying when he gave her the answer she knew was going to come.

* * *

As soon as they got to the park, Sam ran off to join his friends--one of whom, Wade was happy to see, was dressed as Benjamin Franklin--and Wade placed his hand on the small of Violet's back to lead her toward a place in the crowd.

"Doesn't seem to be much room," he said, and she made a noncommittal sound as she sidestep his hand, sweeping through the crowd in her own period-appropriate Martha Washington costume.

"Have I mentioned today how impressed I am with the costumes? I mean the sewing alone--"

"Thanks," she said. "Here looks good."

She pointed to a space between two strollers, and moved toward it without looking back at him.

"Okay," He scratched the back of his head, wondering.

It was so strange. Ever since they'd gotten in the car to come to the parade, it was like she'd become an entirely different person. At first, he'd thought she simply didn't want to seem affectionate in front of Sam and, for his part, he could understand that. What they'd done the night before had been incredible, but it was new, and lord knew how protective she could be.

Still, now that they were alone, he'd thought it would have changed.

"You have something on your mind?" he asked, and she looked at him as if she'd only just realized he was standing beside her.

"No. I'm fine." Her words were short and clipped, and she stared out at the park, waiting for the children to begin.

He reached out to take her hand in his, but she slipped her fingers away.

"What's the matter?" He asked. "If this is about last night--"

"I don't want to talk about last night."

"But maybe we should," he insisted.

"Please. All my neighbors and friends are here. If you want to talk to me about personal things--"

"Well, that would require you actually talking to me." He shot back and she stared at him for a long moment, her mind practically whirring behind her eyes.

"Look, something is…on my mind, but I don't want to talk about it now, okay? We can talk about it later."

"No. I'm not going to let you stand here and convince yourself that last night was a mistake. It wasn't--"

"It was." She gritted her teeth, then glanced at the couple next to her before starting for the line of trees beside the row of parked cars.

He followed her, his heart beating faster with every step. He'd only been with her one night, but he already felt like he had everything to lose, and he wasn't about to let it slip away.

When he at last reached the place where she stood, he launched into speech, not allowing her to let him lose focus.

"I know what you're thinking, but Sam can handle this. If things don't work out, we can be mature about it. It's not that big a risk, really," he said. "And whatever risk it is, if we can have nights like we had last night, then isn't it all worth it?"

"I'm not sure what's worth it anymore," She still stared at the crowd in the distance, apparently refusing to meet his gaze. "And don't assume you know what I'm thinking. You don't know me."

"But I do. I've spent so much time with you over the last week--"

"A week that meant nothing to you," she practically spit. "And last night didn't either."

"What are you talking about?"

"I found your tickets, okay? The ones for you and Sam that were in your bedside table."

"So what?" He asked, his eyebrows pulled together.

"So what! Is that really what you think? You slept with me last night knowing that you were going to leave?"

"I slept with you last night knowing that I was going to be in town for two more weeks and you were going to be with me."

"So it was a fling to you?" Though she was whispering, the words still managed to come out like a screech.

"No, it was a great night. The best night of my life." He shrugged. "But you knew I wasn't staying here, Violet. You knew that I had a life in Philadelphia. I'm already changing my entire life to care for a child that isn't mine, and even though I would never give up Sam for anything, I don't want to give up everything else, too. He's a kid. He'll adjust."

"And what about me?" Fire blazed in her eyes. "You were going to sleep with me, make me care for you and then what? Take my job? Take away that little boy? Didn't you ever stop to think--?"

"Of course I did. I know you'd never leave Sam. I hoped that after the month was over, you might come to Philadelphia with us."

"You...you what?" Her wig tottered on her head and she raised her hand to steady it. "So, it's okay for me to pick up my whole life and move for Sam, but it's not okay for you?"

"Sam is your job." He pointed out, his own indignation raising.

Who was she to sweep in and tell him how to raise his nephew and then, on top of everything, expect him to leave his life and his friends in favor of a town she knew only too well that he despised? Was she out of her mind? Hadn't he been clear all along that he would stick in with Sam, that he would always be by his side?

She opened her mouth and closed, apparently lost for words, and he seized the opportunity to strike.

"You always knew I had no intention of staying here. I've never been shy about that. You knew that last night."

"But you'd gone to the town event, so...so I thought..." She shook her head. "I don't know what I thought, but if you think I'm going to spend the next two weeks being your booty call, then you're insane."

"You know that's not what it was," he said.

"Then what was it?" She narrowed her eyes. "Because apparently you have no respect for me or my life if you're willing to rip everything away from me so easily."

He reached for her, but she yanked her arm away from his grasp.

"Don't come looking for me," she said. "And don't follow me."

Then, like a shot, she was bustling through the trees and onto the high road, and he was left staring after her, reeling at her words.