CHAPTER 32 #2
“I know I fucked up,” I said, my voice shaky and too loud in the hush of her room.
“There isn’t a day where I don’t wish I could go back and do it all over again.
Even when I hated myself for it, even when I tried to convince myself I’d moved on, or you had.
But this place,” I said, barely able to look at her.
“This ranch, this town, all of it, means nothing if you’re not in it.
I didn’t realize that until it was too late.
But there was never a single moment I stopped loving you.
Not one. Even when I was trying my damnedest to hate you, to erase you, you were still right there, under my skin. ”
She blinked, and I could see the fight in her, the way she wanted to call me out for the way I’d hurt her. But it was like something inside her broke. “Who else knows? About what my father did that day?”
“No one,” I said, and it was the truth. “I never told June, or my parents, or anyone. He came to me, and I made the choice. And that choice was mine to live with.”
She nodded, slow and jerky, as if she was still trying to process the world reassembled by my confession. I could see her lips moving, as if counting the years, trying to measure out all the time we’d lost to silence and pride.
“Ten years.” She still wasn’t looking at me. “Ten years of where every single move I made was him steering the course.” She stopped, drawing in a breath that shook. “And all that time, you had helped him.”
“Blaire—” I started, but she lifted a hand, palm flat and rigid, and the force of it made me bite my tongue.
“I need to say this,” she said, and the words sounded like steel.
“Because if I don’t, I’ll be the one choking on it forever.
You stole my choice, Colt, and you never even gave me a chance to fight for it.
” Her chin trembled, but the rest of her was stone.
“And I’m done letting men decide what I can bear.
My father doesn’t get one more inch of me.
And you—” She swallowed. “You don’t get to shield me with lies, not ever again. ”
I nodded, my throat raw. The sting of her words was nothing less than I deserved. “I swear,” I managed. “Never again.”
She looked up, and the anger in her eyes was as bright and hot as the sun at high noon.
“I hate him for doing this to us,” she said.
“But I’m furious with you, too. I’m so damn angry at you for believing we couldn’t have handled it together.
And I hate that I understand why you did it.
” She scrubbed at her eyes with the heel of her hand, angry at herself now.
“I should be angrier. But I get it, Colt. I do. I’ve worked for my father since the day I graduated college.
I know what he’s capable of. Hell, I know more about the terrible things he’s done than anyone. ”
She blinked her eyes open, and there was a vulnerability in her then that was almost more than I could stand.
Because I knew she endured years of conditional affection from her father, always tugged by invisible wires.
He’d done it to her before she left, and I couldn’t imagine how bad it had been when she was with him.
I’d been a coward, and I’d carried the guilt for so long. But now it was like the wound was new, raw, and pulsing between us.
“I’m sorry,” I said. “I’m sorry for everything I did, and for not telling you the truth when you needed it.” The words felt small, but they were the only things I had left.
She was silent, but her eyes didn’t leave my face. For a moment it felt like everything in the world was balanced on the knife-edge of her forgiveness, and I didn’t know which way it would tip.
“I don’t know what to do with all this,” she said at last, voice trembling. “It’s like I’ve been walking around with a big empty hole inside me, and I finally know what fits in it, but that doesn’t mean it hurts any less.”
I reached for her hand and this time she didn’t pull away. Our fingers twined together, holding on for dear life. “I can’t fix the past,” I said. “But I can start by telling you the truth now. Every time. Even if it scares me.”
Her lips twitched, and she lifted one hand, running it over my mustache. “The Colt I know has never been scared of anything.”
“I’m scared of you,” I said, my entire body aching with the admission. “I’m scared of losing you.”
I felt her palm quiver against mine, and tightened my grip, as if I could somehow press the memory of her hand into my skin before she pulled away.
We sat like that for a long time, not moving, not even blinking, just staring at each other across the canyon of everything we’d never said.
I wanted to reach for her, to pull her into my arms and promise her the world, but I didn’t dare.
She needed space to decide what she wanted, who she was now.
The only thing I could do was be honest, for the first time in my whole goddamn life.
“I know you have a life and a future that probably doesn’t have a place for me in it.
But I needed you to know. I needed you to know that it was real, Blaire.
That it was always real. When you came back, I was so scared for you to get close to Ruby because I don’t know if she’ll survive if you leave. I won’t survive it. I know I won’t.”
A soft sob tore from her throat, and I stroked my thumb along her cheekbone, and for a moment, she closed her eyes. She leaned into my touch like she was starved for it, like she was scared it would vanish if she looked too closely. I could feel her wild and unsteady pulse racing under my thumb.
“I know I’m not good at this,” I whispered. “I know I broke every promise we ever made, and if I could go back and change any of it, I would. I’d do it a thousand times over. But I can’t. So all I can do is try like hell to be better now.”
I moved closer, my weight shifting until I was above her, supporting myself on one elbow while my fingertips ghosted along the curve of her cheekbone.
“You’re the only thing that’s ever made sense, Blaire. Only you and Ruby.”
She stared up at me, her eyes glistening in the low light, and her hands rose to clutch my forearms.
“I wanted to hate you,” she whispered. “I’d convinced myself for so long that I did.”
“I know,” I said. “You can still hate me if you need to but just don’t—” I leaned closer until my words brushed her lips. “Please don’t leave again.”
“Colt—” She shook her head against me, and I had no idea what she was going to say, but I couldn’t bear the thought that she could tell me she was going to leave.
“It would kill me, Blaire. It would kill Ruby.”
I let the words hang there, let them bite and burn. Blaire just stared up at me, and her fingers dug into my arms.
“I used to pray that I could take it all back, that I could have a do over and change what happened that day. But then I wouldn’t have Ruby.” I let my hand drift down the line of her neck, my thumb grazing the hollow of her throat.
“When Ruby was born, they put her in my arms, and I swear to God, Blaire, the world stopped spinning. I couldn’t breathe.
She was this tiny, perfect thing with my eyes and dark hair, and I didn’t know a man could love like that.
I remember running my finger over her little lips, and it was your face that flashed in my mind.
It was the greatest moment of my life, and I knew that the only thing missing was you. Always you.”
Her breath caught, tears trembling on her lashes until they fell down her cheeks.
“I thought about you, and I kept seeing your smile in her face even though that was impossible. I was so happy, but I kept thinking about how you should’ve been there beside me.
” My chest ached with the admission. “That night, when the rest of the world was asleep and it was just me and her, I told her about the girl who owned every piece of me before she did.” I brushed my thumb across her cheek, wiping away the moisture.
“I looked you up online that night. There was a photo of you laughing in a city I’d never see, looking like everything I’d ever wanted and could never have again.
And God, I’d never felt so fucking split in two.
I loved her so completely while still loving the ghost of you. ”
I shook my head, dragging my thumb lower to the ridges and valleys of her collarbone.
“But seeing you with Ruby and watching her light up around you? I’ve never seen my girl so happy.” My voice broke, and I had to swallow hard against the ache in my throat. “It kills me and makes me the happiest son of a bitch alive. It makes me feel like maybe I’m not failing her.”
“You’re not failing her,” she whispered, and her fingers shook as they trailed up my arm. “You’ve given her everything.”
I leaned in, pressing my mouth to hers, and feeling the warmth of her lips against mine. “I want to give her you.” I breathed. “No more casual, Blaire. I want all of you.”