Chapter 30 #2
"Hi, Goldilocks," I murmured, reaching out with a gentle touch.
Caroline continued to pet her as she handed her a treat.
"They let us be a part of their world here.
My sister and I used to sit right there," she gestured to a hay bale.
"We’d help out with the horses, then read and do our homework until our parents picked us up.
When she was a baby, we read Goldilocks and the Three Bears, and her ears twitched with every 'just right.
' They let us name her. I guess she's always been a bit of a sanctuary for me.
" Her gaze drifted away, lost in the memories.
“Life gets busy," Caroline continued, her fingers tracing patterns on Goldilocks’ neck. "I don’t get to visit her as often as I used to, but she’s been there for me through so many rough days. "
"That's too bad," I said, watching Caroline with Goldilocks, the way her fingers tenderly brushed through the horse's mane.
"Charlotte always wanted to get married here—having a view of the lake and the horses," she said, her voice softening as she glanced over her shoulder, pointing towards the lake where tables had been arranged and set up for dinner. Candles flickered in the gentle breeze.
I watched her, this woman who could start a fire with her words. And as she stood there in the dying light, conversing with a creature as wild-hearted as herself, I couldn't help but feel my cold heart starting to melt.
"You're beautiful," I whispered, leaning an arm on the weathered wood, watching them together.
Caroline glanced up, misreading my intent, her gaze returning to the horse. "I know," she agreed. "I might be partial, but I think she's the prettiest horse I've ever seen."
Goldilocks seemed to sense the compliment, letting out a contented snort of approval that ruffled the quiet.
"I wasn't talking about her," I said quietly.
Caroline paused and almost looked disappointed at my compliment. She stepped away and took a seat on a haystack. "Don't do that," she breathed.
"Do what?"
"Say things like that," she whispered, delicate but heavy with emotion.
“Why not?” I asked, watching as she stared at Goldilocks, almost like they were having a silent conversation—the horse, in all her wisdom, urging her to be honest.
“First of all… your sister knows about our deal. She overheard me telling Sam. And Reese, she’s so hurt. I hate that she found out like that. I really care about her.”
I exhaled, running a hand through my hair. “Trust me, she’ll be okay. She’ll forgive you. Might hold a grudge against me for a while, though.”
"I thought I could do this," she continued, not looking at me. "I thought if we were together in front of my family, it would finally impress them." A bitter laugh escaped her. "That I wouldn't be some disappointment for once… but now that it's here, I don't think I can go through with this."
"Why do you need their approval? Why does impressing your family even matter so much?"
She looked down, playing with the bracelets on her arm.
"You wouldn't understand what it's like," she whispered painfully.
"To always be the disappointment—not perfect like Cooper or Charlotte.
Every kid grows up wanting their parents' approval.
.. wanting them to be proud." Her fingers traced the bracelets.
"I've never had that. Not once. And I know we've come all this way.
.." She shook her head, a tear dropping slowly down her face.
"But, I can't finally make them proud of me with a lie. "
I moved closer, bending down to wipe the tear off her cheek. "Caroline, do you really believe this is a lie?”
Her glossy eyes finally met mine as she whispered, "We both knew what this was. None of it was real."
The denial stung, because I knew she felt what I did. The realness.
"I don’t believe that," I said, calm but serious. "It’s felt pretty fucking real to me." I stood back up, leaning against the stall. "I care about you. And I know you feel something too."
"Reese," she finally said, her voice breaking in a way that clawed at my chest. "Maybe I got carried away with how good it all felt.
" She put her head in her hands. "Pretending things could be real.
.. that I could actually be with someone like you…
but we both know I'm not the girl who gets the happy ending.
You're the guy who ends up with the fashion model, the dream house, you get the perfect life. Yes, maybe I was feeling things, but I’m not going to pretend you would actually end up with someone like me. "
I wish everyone would stop saying that, stop telling me who I was destined to end up with, or what my life was supposed to look like. I know what feels right, and when I’m with her, everything feels right.
"Caroline, don't do this. I get it now, why you see yourself the way you do, but fuck, you’re so much more than you give yourself credit for. You have no idea how amazing you are. If you could see yourself how I see you, you’d never question that."
The gentle rhythm of Goldilocks' breathing filled the quiet space between us, a comforting backdrop to the uncertainty that hung heavily in the air.
"Let's just get through dinner," she said, her tone resolute. But I heard the tremble she couldn't hide. "After tonight, this has to be done. I can take on tomorrow by myself."
Her words stung, and I was doing everything I could to hold back the overwhelming feeling of panic when I thought about the possibility of losing her. I knew I used to have a life without her, where I was okay with her hating me and staying in different lanes, but I didn’t want that life anymore.
"If that’s what you want." I gave in, not because I thought she actually wanted that, but because sometimes to get what you really want takes knowing when to fall back. And make no mistake, I was getting what I wanted—I had no intention of giving up.
“It’s what I want,” Caroline said before standing up and leaning her head against the horse's broad forehead and saying goodbye. She closed her eyes for a brief moment, absorbing comfort from Goldilocks.
"You were right about one thing," I murmured, petting Goldilocks one last time—I swear she gave me a look like she felt sorry for me. "You'll never get your happy ending if you keep standing in your own way."
She didn’t say a word. She turned off the lights and closed the barn door.
As we walked towards the rehearsal dinner, I let my gaze linger on her, taking in every detail—the way her hair fell in soft waves down her back, the subtle lift of her shoulders as she breathed in the night air, the slight quiver of her hands.
"Tell me one more thing," I urged, lifting her chin to look up at me.
"Anything," she said, honestly.
I could see the questions swirling in her mind, those eyes reflecting the same confusion that twisted inside me. There was an expectant pause, our breaths mingling in the stillness of the night.
"Earlier today," I began, thinking about what had been on my mind ever since. "You said you were worried I was going to humiliate you again." My gaze narrowed onto hers, searching. "What did you mean by that?"
"Sixth grade," she answered after a moment, the words falling softly between us, like I knew what that meant.
"Sixth grade?" I echoed, waiting for her to explain.
She looked away, her gaze settling on the tables where guests were now seated. "The dance," she continued, shaking her head. "The one you had Evan ask me to be your date to."
I blinked, my thoughts racing back, but my mind was coming up blank.
"Then you showed up with someone else. That someone else being the girl who poured a drink on me… I was humiliated. Horrified."
I remained motionless, trapped in thought.
The dance I’d gone to with Emma King? I never knew Evan asked Caroline to be my date.
I hated that kid. Not a clue in the world where he was now, but I was better off.
I remembered commotion happening around the punch bowl, but no one ever told me it had anything to do with Caroline.
I remembered Emma and I having nothing in common.
I don’t think we talked again after that dance.
"I know we were just kids, but that day," she said, her voice a hoarse whisper, "it makes me physically ill to think about."
Realization settled thick and heavy around me.
Guilt pricked my stomach. What could I possibly say to make it all better?
How could anything take away the pain she’d gone through?
I was just like everyone else in her life who had failed her.
If I had known, if I could have done something that night.
Would it have changed everything between us?
All those years of animosity over some shitty sixth grade dance.
I never even realized there was a reason behind it all.