52. Callie
Chapter 52
Callie
The crowd is gone, but the dust still hangs in the air, catching in the rafters like it doesn’t know the show’s over.
They’ve turned off the bright lights, leaving only a few at the corners that cast the arena in a dim glow where I stand at the center. The last time I’d been on the inside like this was Colt’s accident. And the time before that was before my dad’s death.
These buildings represent competition, adrenaline, and living high on life, but for me, for a long time now, all of my pain has been wrapped around this dirt.
I bend over and scoop some up with my hand, letting the grains slip through my fingers.
How can something I’ve let hold so much power over me, something that’s haunted me… be so simple?
It’s the same dirt you see in the parking lot, just a little finer, a little deeper. Nothing special. Nothing sacred. Nothing to fear.
Yet I’ve been hiding from this dirt, and everything it represents, for over eight years.
I close my eyes and take a deep breath through my nose, filling my lungs as I tip my head back, face tilted toward the sky.
This isn’t the arena where my dad died, but it was one just like it.
The image of him is still too clear. One I haven’t been able to shake.
My throat itches to scream for everything this place has taken from me… and everything it’s still holding on to.
It would be easy to run. To walk away and never look back.
Mia’s voice keeps echoing through me. Even without knowing me, she managed to cut bone-deep, like she saw a part of herself buried in me. Like a mother warning her daughter not to take the same path.
I inhale again and loosen my fist, letting the last of the dirt fall to the ground.
No matter how I turn her words over in my mind, they always land the same.
This sport may have taken from me, but right now, I’m the one choosing to give them up.
I’ve been letting the image of my mother falling apart beside me dictate every decision I’ve made since. Letting the memory of my father and all his broken promises shape who I am.
A quiet laugh slips from my lips.
Maybe Alex is right. Maybe he really was just an asshole.
All my fears, everything I’ve built my life around. The fundamental belief that for bull riders, the sport comes first. You don’t risk your life day after day for something you’re only halfway in on. That kind of wild, obsessive love, the kind you’d sacrifice anything for, is unbreakable. No matter what anyone says, everything else comes second. Their wife. Their kids. Their body. Their life. Nothing matters as much as that buckle.
It’s something I’ve understood my whole life. Something I’ve seen with my own eyes and felt with my own heart.
I don’t know when that certainty started to crack. Somewhere this summer, a hairline fracture formed, and Colt and Maverick chipped away at it slowly, steadily until the break was wide enough to let the light in.
Waiting on the other side of that crack was a question I’d never dared ask:
What if I’m wrong?
What if everything I believed was built on one imperfect man’s mistake?
Coupled with Mia’s words, it’s damn near mind-altering.
“Everything you’re afraid of could still be true. They could love the sport more. They could say no. But it would still be worth asking. Because not asking? That guarantees you lose.”
I open my arms wide and try to breathe in the bravery that feels stitched into the bones of this place.
There’s a voice in the back of my head screaming at me to run. Telling me staying here is a mistake I won’t walk away from.
But my heels dig into the same dirt I used to fear, done letting ghosts control me.
Footsteps crunch behind me, and Maverick’s familiar voice calls out. “What are you doing out here?”
It’s hesitant, laced with concern. I can practically feel the love rolling off him in waves.
“Waiting for you.” My smile wobbles as I roll up every ounce of courage and clutch it tight. Whether this ends in heartbreak or hope, I’m not leaving.
Not until I tell them why I left and what I need to stay.
Not until they look me in the eye and tell me I’m not worth it.
“Woah.” Colt’s boots thud across the arena floor, closing the distance in a few long strides. His hand is on my face before I can say a word, thumbs brushing at the tears I didn’t even know were falling. “What happened?”
Nothing.
Everything.
Maverick’s beside him now, scanning me like he’s checking for wounds, like he’s trying to read me in one long look.
I take a step back, needing space, needing to stand on my own for this.
Colt’s blue eyes follow the motion, worry etched across his face.
“I… we need to talk.”
“You’re still leaving? After everything ?” Colt says it like the words rip straight out of him.
Maverick grips his shoulder, steadying him, but there’s no less hurt in his eyes.
“That’s… that’s not what I’m saying. Although you might wish it was by the time I’m done.”
“Not possible,” Maverick replies without hesitation.
My mouth twists into an ironic smile. “I can only hope you’re right.”
Colt reaches for me but flinches when I take a step back.
“Just let me say this. I won’t be able to take it… if you have to let me go.”
Both boys still.
“What is it, Wildflower?” Maverick asks, voice low. “What’s so bad that we can’t even touch you?”
A bitter laugh coils in my chest because that’s exactly what I’m trying to find out.
“After this summer, I owe you some explanations.” My fingers knot together, restless, before I shove them into my back pockets. “That’s not quite right. I’ve always owed you this.”
“It’s okay, Callie. You don’t have to explain,” Colt says, nodding toward the arena. “It’s fine. You’re here. With us.”
“It’s not okay. It’s never been okay . I need you to really listen. Can you do that for me?”
“Say what you need to say. We’re not going anywhere.” Maverick says softly.
His reassurance helps prop me up, and even though my voice shakes, I don’t look away. “You know a lot about me, probably more than anyone. But the things you don’t know? They’re just as big.”
Silent, they wait for me to continue.
“Once I explain, I hope you understand why I can’t compromise on this.”
“Whatever it is… it’s okay.” Colt’s words hit like a balm and a blade, hurting and healing all at once.
“Losing my dad was devastating. Watching it break my mom was worse.” My voice is low, rough as I push through. “I never told you, but my mom hated the fact that my dad competed. She begged him. Begged him to stop. Every season, every event, every ride… she was frozen in fear. She didn’t want him to get hurt. She didn’t want me to grow up without a father.”
They move to speak, but I hold up a hand.
“He never told her no. Never called her selfish. He just… promised over and over that he’d stop. That he understood why she was afraid. Why she was asking something like this of him. He said he’d always put us first. But he didn’t mean it. Not really.” I clear my throat. “I didn’t understand why it mattered so much to her until the day he died. Then I understood all too well. Way too late.”
My gaze drops, voice growing quieter. “A week after his funeral, Maverick got hurt. It wasn’t even bad, less than half the injuries you’d had before. Nothing out of the ordinary.”
I look at them both, eyes brimming.
“But for me? It was like getting electrocuted. Like being thrown back into the moment I watched my dad bleed. That same fear. That same helplessness.” A tear slips free, but I don’t wipe it away.
“I knew deep in my bones that I couldn’t do it again. You loved it so much I knew I could never ask you to stop, but I couldn’t watch you ride either. So, I ran.”
My tears fall freely now, my voice cracking all over the place, but I keep going. If I stop now, I might never find the courage again.
“Eight years. Thousands of dollars in therapy, and I still couldn’t let go of this place. I came back to tie up all the pieces I’d left behind. I thought a few months would be enough. A few smiles, a few laughs, and I’d be okay.”
I press a shaking arm across my chest like I can physically hold myself together.
“But you two… you made me fall in love with you in a thousand small ways. You respooled the thread that unraveled when I left and used it to sew the broken pieces of me back together.”
My breath shudders.
“I’ve lived believing that even the men who love you will never choose you over the sport. That even asking them to is selfish. I’ve treated that like an unshakable truth. A rule written in blood. Even my own dad didn’t choose me.”
A pause, then a softer admission. “Then I spent this summer with you… I started to wonder… what if it’s different with you? What if it’s okay to be just a little bit selfish?”
My hands tremble, but I keep my eyes on theirs.
“You’ve done so many things to make my heart believe. Even when I’ve been too scared to admit it.”
A single breath. One last beat, and I slice myself open, leaving me bare.
“And just as much as I’m sure I love you, I’m equally sure… I can’t stay if you’re going to keep competing.”
I brace myself for the silence. For the pity. For the heartbreak.
“So this is me choosing you. Asking you to choose me.”
“There has never been another option,” Maverick says, his voice low and steady. “You’ve always been the only choice. No ride, no win, certainly no damn buckle will ever compare to how I feel about you. I will always choose you. I will always choose us.”
“Honestly, I’m a little insulted you didn’t know that,” Colt says with a shaky laugh, his eyes damp as he opens his arms and catches me when I crash into them. Maverick’s breath is warm on my neck, grounding me, while Colt supports my weight like he’s never letting go.
“You don’t think I’m being selfish?”
“So what if you are?” Colt strokes a crescent over my cheek. “Be selfish.”
“Circling back,” he murmurs, voice lighter now, “did you just say you love us?”
“Uh… yeah.”
“Say it again.”
“I love you.”
Colt kisses me. “Again.”
“I love you.”
“Again.”
I laugh, my chest finally loosening. “I love you. Both of you. I think I always have. Maybe not in the same way, but just as deeply.”
It feels a little awkward, the air thick with everything we’ve said and haven’t said. “Are you… do you have anything to say to me in response?”
Maverick arches a brow. “You mean besides saying ‘fuck bull riding’?”
“Let’s be together forever,” Colt adds.
“Please don’t leave us. You mean besides all that?” Maverick grins.
“Ah… when you put it like that…”
Colt laughs and dips me backward, whispering, “I love you,” against my lips before kissing me senseless.
By the time he lets me go, my vision is blurry again, but this time, it’s not from crying. “I love you, Callie Harper,” Maverick says, pulling me into his arms, voice rough with emotion. “Thank you for choosing us.”
“Hey, what about me, asshole?” Colt cuts in.
“I love you too,” Maverick grumbles, and I snort.
Colt flushes bright red and mutters, “Alright, whatever… you too, I guess,”
Maverick leans in to kiss him over my head, all teasing gone. “I love you.”
Colt breathes out like the words knocked the air out of him. “Damn. When you say it like that… I love you too.”
Colt looks between us and exhales, slow and sure. “Come on,” he says softly. “Let’s go home.”
I blink at him. “What about the championship party?”
He squeezes my hand. “They can celebrate without me. I’ve already got everything I want.”