Chapter 40 Thirty-Nine
Thirty-Nine
Quinn
“Another amazing run from Quinn Compton and her horse, Charming!” The female announcer’s voice called over the speakers. I wished it were Wyatt’s. “This girl has been in the top standings for weeks now. If she dips, she goes back up—it really has been a whirlwind to watch her.”
“Especially after the injury she had that knocked her out for a lot of last year, but looking at her now, you wouldn’t even be able to tell.”
I did recognize that voice. That was Sam. And I wished it were Wyatt’s voice instead.
I constantly had to remind myself I was furious. That he hurt me in more ways than one.
This was by far the worst breakup I had ever been through.
Not only had I lost my boyfriend—but I lost my best friend.
After I left him at the arena, I went straight to the hotel and crawled under the covers, breaking down the moment my head hit the pillow—and I cried myself to sleep.
I woke up the next morning, washed my face, and tried to carry on.
I couldn’t stop now; I couldn’t let this break me worse than my injury had.
But with every step I took, each minute that passed, my heart ached for him.
I still looked for him after every ride for a kiss.
I would still reach for him in the middle of the night, only to feel a cold, empty bed. I wanted him with me.
I told myself it would be better once I was home. And then I got to Alpine Ridge, and it got worse. He was at the stables working. He was at dinner. He was at The Steel. He was in my text messages. He was…everywhere.
Unable to hold it in any longer, I finally told Abi everything.
She listened and let me cry on her front porch, holding my hand the entire time for comfort.
She didn’t defend her brother or judge my outbursts; she was just there.
Abi comforted me, something I wasn’t quite used to.
I never had anyone to talk to like this, no one to hold me when I cried.
But the worst part of this entire thing?
She confirmed that the reason why Wyatt wasn’t in any committees was that he did, in fact, punch a guy for talking about me.
He defended me when he knew I wanted nothing to do with him, and she knew that he would do it again in a heartbeat.
That stung in a different way, a way I couldn’t explain.
I didn’t exactly know how to take the fact that he punched a guy in my honor, either; should I be angry at him or swoon?
Did I thank him for stopping rumors, or did I tell him it was overkill and I could handle myself on my own?
Abi’s advice was to let it ride—that it would all come to fruition on its own, but that didn’t seem right either.
None of this felt right.
“I don’t think he knows what he really said, and he probably doesn’t see what happened with Kelly the way you do.
He can’t see how hurtful it was for you.
You’re the first person he’s ever truly loved this way,” she said as she squeezed me against her.
“I think you both need time. I’m not giving up on either of you, and you shouldn’t either. ”
But half of me felt like I already had.
The idea that this was all a ruse was louder than any voice in my head telling me to give him another chance.
I couldn’t look at him without getting mad or feeling like he used me in some way.
He would still laugh with Cash or be with my boys, always giving Hook a peppermint.
He would blow raspberries with Poppy and swing her around, cooing that he loved her giggle.
And then he would meet my gaze and go right back to what he was doing as if it didn’t matter.
He was acting like nothing happened, so I tried my hardest to act the same.
It was all an act, all a game at this point, and isn’t that exactly what I accused him of—playing a game?
And now I felt like I was playing one, too.
I hated it. This was all new territory for me, and I wasn’t sure how this feeling was going to fade…
so I did the only thing I could think to do.
Ride.
I booked every single weekend in October, getting down to the wire for the NFR.
And even though I was doing this—taking care of all travel accommodations and my boys on my own—not a day went by that I didn’t wish Wyatt was here with me.
And every time that wish popped into my head, I would snuff it out and go through the motions, trying to enjoy my last ride for a few weeks.
“What a ride, Compton. I’m sure if Hartwell knew you’d be here, he would have taken this job over the other.
” Sam came up to me as I latched Charming to the trailer and started undressing him piece by piece.
He leaned up against my trailer like Wyatt would.
Except Wyatt would be moving, working two steps ahead of me, not just watching.
I ignored him as best I could. “Yeah, well,”—I shrugged—“glad to hear he’s working.”
“Oh man, it’s like he never left. It’s been great.”
I gave him a nod and smile, convincing myself I was glad Wyatt had moved on so quickly—further proof it was all a ruse. Further proof I had to get over this. I had to focus and just forget Wyatt Hartwell even held a piece of my heart at one point.
Back at the hotel, I read. Since any episode of Once Upon a Time would make me miss him, I had finally let Abi convince me to join the Smutty Grannies book club, and this month was a dark romance that had gone viral.
It wasn’t exactly my cup of tea, but I still snuggled into the warm hotel bed and let it take my mind off everything.
That is, until my phone buzzed on the nightstand.
Mom.
I ignored it; the book was getting too good to bring that back up.
I could really only deal with so much.
She called again the next morning while I was brushing my teeth. And again, once I hit the road to the next rodeo. And again, as soon as I pulled up to the Nova Luna Stable. And when my pocket began to vibrate as I was settling my boys, I couldn’t take it anymore.
“Shit, you’d think she’d give up,” I shouted at no one as I slammed Hook’s stall closed. The door rattled, and I flinched and looked at the now-loose metal latch. “Dammit.”
“Don’t worry.” I heard his voice from behind me, and instantly, my body froze. I slowly turned and saw him, reminding myself to breathe. “I’ll fix it later.”
Wyatt stood in Rusty’s stall, his baby-blue eyes focused on me, a brush in hand, his damn hat on backwards with his hair sticking out at different angles, his voice just as perfect as I remembered.
I huffed out a breath of air.
Not worth it.
“Thanks,” I replied, leaving the stable without another word.
The next day, the latch was fixed.