You had always thought Fritz was easy to read. Loud when he was happy, sulky when he was mad, and always wearing his heart on his sleeve.

But lately, something was off.

He wasn’t sulking. He wasn’t teasing. He wasn’t… anything.

Especially after you’d spent the entire Spring Festival chatting and laughing with Raeger.

It was nothing. Just friendly conversation.

So why had Fritz stopped showing up at your farm?

Why did he suddenly have so much work to do that he couldn’t spare a moment to visit?

By the third day, you’d had enough.

You stormed onto his land just after sunrise, the morning mist still clinging to the grass. You found him in the farthest field, shirt clinging to his back from sweat, furiously hammering at a broken fence post like it had personally offended him.

“Fritz,” you called, stepping closer.

He didn’t look at you. “Kinda busy.”