Nicole
"These are from my garden," Weslee said, placing an assortment of fresh vegetables on the kitchen table. "I've got way more than I can handle. There's another batch in the car for you, Dodie. Take them home tonight."
I watched Weslee arrange the produce, realizing how she constantly surprised me.
This woman was a walking contradiction.
The first time we met, she'd been the picture-perfect Luna beside Shawn—quiet, elegant, and seemingly submissive.
The next time, she was a wild force of nature, smoking and shopping like money had no meaning. And now? A country girl with dirt under her nails who grew her own vegetables.
I couldn’t keep up with her.
Every version of Weslee felt real—like layers of the same person, not masks.
There was something grounding about
