Chapter 16 Katie
KATIE
Iwould’ve hoped that after slamming the door on Wayne that I really would never see him again. Frankly, he is the absolute last person I want to see these days. But as the days go on, life has a funny way of not listening to me. Because no matter how hard I try, I can’t seem to shake him.
It doesn’t help matters that I’m on the ranch almost every day, so he’s kind of hard to avoid.
He consistently walks into the office back by the barns with two cups of coffee in his hands and a little pastry bag between his teeth.
It’s more charming than it has any right to be, especially when he smiles around the bag, his eyes crinkling at the corners.
He sets one of the coffees down on the desk and slides it toward me before pulling the bag from between his teeth.
“I got you a hazelnut latte,” he says. “They were out of chocolate croissants, so I picked up some banana bread.”
It’s not an apology for disappearing for two weeks, but it’s a pretty strong start.
I’m tempted to be petty, but I know I was over-emotional yesterday when he showed up at my apartment.
It was bad timing, to say the least. If he wants to explain himself now that I’m not sobbing and panicking about my whole life falling apart, maybe I should give him a shot? Maybe.
“Thanks,” I say, keeping my voice measured. “I woke up late and didn’t have a chance to make coffee this morning.”
He looks proud of himself and a little relieved. I hide my grin behind my coffee.
“Are you busy?”
I glance at the computer screen where I’ve been filling out notes on the plans for the next calving season. It’s nothing all that pressing, even if there’s a lot of it to get done.
It can wait.
“I don’t have to be.”
“Want to walk down to the river with me?” he asks hopefully. “I, uh, wanted to talk to you a bit. If that’s okay?”
I pick my coffee up as I stand from my seat, forcing myself not to smile. His nervousness is adorable. I may still be pissed about him disappearing, but seeing him so obviously out of his depth and unsure of himself is enough to convince me to hear him out.
“Sure,” I say, acting much more casual than I feel. “Bring the banana bread.”
He seems nervous enough to jump out of his skin, carefully keeping just enough distance between us that our arms don’t brush as we walk.
We make our way through the barn and out onto the dirt trail that leads down to the back pastures.
He’s quiet as we wander, both of us eating a slice of the best banana bread in town and sipping at our coffees.
It’s not until we make it to the river bank that he says anything.
“I’m not going to be very good at this,” he says with a wince.
I don’t say anything, following suit as he takes a seat on the bank, just far enough away from the water that the dirt isn’t quite mud.
“I didn’t even stop to consider the… um, insensitivity, about leaving without telling you,” he starts. “I should have. I’m not used to telling people when I go anywhere.”
I hum in response, but don’t say anything. He hasn’t apologized yet, and I’m not letting him explain his way out of this.
“We were supposed to go riding together,” I remind him, keeping my voice bland. “You just disappeared, and I had no idea what happened. Jenny had to tell me where you were.”
“I’m sorry.” He cringes, his hand twitching at his side like he wants to reach out for me. “I didn’t have service while we were camping, and I just didn’t look at my phone while we were in Vegas.”
I don’t know if I really believe that, but if anyone is irresponsible enough to ignore their phone for two weeks straight, it’s Wayne.
I hum again, taking a sip of my coffee. He looks over at me like he’s hoping not to have to say any more, but he’s not getting off that easily. If he wants me—really wants me, not just a few nights with me—he’s going to have to work for it.
A rushed apology and some coffee isn’t going to cut it.
“Anyway, it wasn’t right. I should have told you,” he says, his eyes falling back onto the river.
“I was freaking out because I’ve never wanted something real with anyone, and I had no idea how to handle it.
When the guys asked me to come along, I figured it was a good chance to clear my head and figure things out.
I should have told you what I was doing, and I’m sorry that I didn’t.
I’m sorry for leaving without saying anything, and I’m sorry for making you feel like I didn’t care. ”
That’s more like it. I don’t have a chance to say anything before he continues babbling, though.
“I do. Care, I mean. About you.” The words come out awkwardly, like he’s unused to even thinking them, much less saying them.
It’s kind of cute. “I care about you, and us. I don’t want this to be something casual.
You’re all I thought about while I was gone, and that’s never happened to me before.
I’ve never missed someone like I missed you. ”
“I missed you, too,” I say softly.
Part of me wants to reach out for his hand, but I’m still hesitant. The words are pretty, and obviously thought out, but are they really true? Does he really mean this?
“Oh, thank God,” he says with a laugh. “I was terrified you’d be too mad to give me a chance.”
All of the tension drains out of him immediately, and I frown as I watch him relax. I’m still mad, but I do want to give him a chance. Something in my gut tells me that those words mean something different to me than they do to him.
“So what do you want, exactly?” I ask.
He looks at me with a wide smile on his face, affection shining in his eyes.
“I want you,” he says. “I want to keep seeing you, and to have something real. I missed you while I was gone, and I don’t want to keep missing you.”
I stare out at the water. My heart aches in my chest hearing those words.
It’s all I’ve wanted to hear the past few weeks, but I just feel hollow.
It’s so… simple. Easy words that could mean damn near anything, nothing concrete, no serious ideas about the future.
The worst part is that I can tell he thinks he’s saying the right thing. He thinks empty promises are enough.
There’s a hopeful shine in those baby blues. His whole body is trembling. The problem is that he’s still Wayne. He’s still living like a teenager in his head, and no matter how many pretty words he can come up with, that’s not going to change until he puts in real effort.
He’s not going to change until something makes him change.
Well, it’s time to give him that something. I take a deep breath. Here goes.
“I’m pregnant.”
The words suck all the oxygen from the air. They fall to the ground at my feet and bring oppressive silence along with them. The birds stop singing, the water stops burbling along, the bees stop buzzing.
Wayne stares at me in total shock.
His mouth opens and closes several times, but nothing comes out. He just looks at me, a million different emotions flashing across his face. My heart sinks when I realize not one of them is excitement.
He settles on anger.
“Pregnant?” he asks, his voice full of acid and hurt. “You’re pregnant?”
My anxiety spikes at the betrayal in his tone, and my arm falls to cross over my stomach. Shame washes over me, like this is somehow entirely my fault. All I can do is nod, tears in my eyes.
God, I was an idiot for daring to hope he’d ever step up for this.
“I was gone for two weeks!” His brows furrow together as he rakes a withering gaze over me, pain and anger twining together and turning the clear blue of his eyes murky with agony. “You couldn’t even give me a chance to come back before you moved on?”
What?
“What?”
What does that even mean? I didn’t move on while he was gone, but what would that have to do with this? I blink at him as confusion overtakes my worry about his reaction.
“Who’s the father, then?” he scoffs, shaking his head. “I was out there wishing I was back here, and you were in someone else’s fucking bed.”
A bolt of pure fury spears straight through the center of my brain as the pieces click together. Oh, you’ve got to be fucking kidding me.
A laugh burns its way up my throat, entirely humorless and dry. Wayne’s eyes are filled with disgust and hurt, but all I can think is that I shouldn’t even be surprised. Of course he’d shove the blame off.
Onto me, onto another man.
Anyone else, so long as he doesn’t have to take responsibility for his own fucking actions.
“How dare you?” My voice is low and trembling with fury, and I ball my hands into fists just so I can feel the prick of my own nails in my palms. I need something to keep me centered, or I’m going to blow up completely. “Not everyone jumps from person to person, you asshole.”
He flinches at the words, but I know they don’t cut as deeply to him as they did to me. Wayne has probably spent his whole life in Billings rotating women through his bed. I’m sure he sees nothing wrong with it, as long as it’s him doing it.
He’s still so fucking immature.
“Oh, sure, you were just sitting here and waiting patiently for me to come back,” he mutters.
I’m so angry at him that I don’t have a chance to point out that he was the one in fucking Vegas.
If anyone had opportunities to fall into bed with someone else, it sure as shit wasn’t me.
“Are you even really pregnant? Is this just a way to keep me around to help with the lawsuit? I’m not going to be a fucking wallet to someone. ”
A flash of agony bursts in my chest, and then I go completely numb.
I stare at him, dumbfounded, as he sneers bitterly at me. I can’t summon tears, not even a hopeless laugh. Nothing. I know, logically, that my cheeks flame in embarrassment and that my legs shake so badly they almost give out when I stand. I just can’t feel any of it.
The whole world spins around me, green and blue and brown blurring together into a whirlwind. All I can see is the ground beneath my own feet and the path I need to take to get back to the barn.
Everything else is inconsequential.
“A wallet.” I repeat with a hollow bark of laughter. “Don’t bother. I don’t need your money. Or you. I don’t need your help. This baby and I will be fine without you.”
I leave. I walk fast, without turning back, and he doesn’t call after me.
The sounds of the birds and the rustling of the trees slowly fade back in as I trudge up the trail that leads to the barn.
I’ve walked this path a million times before, but it feels so unfamiliar now. Everything feels different.
The brief flash of hope that flared when Wayne asked to talk has been completely extinguished.
Every bit of trust I had in him is gone, turned to dust and blown away in a harsh gust of wind. I was an idiot for hoping things would be okay. For thinking there could ever be something real between us. God, a family with Wayne Riggs? What the fuck was I thinking?
Enjoying each other’s company and sleeping together a few times doesn’t make the foundation for a life together.
It doesn’t make the foundation for a child, either.
I settle my hand on my stomach protectively, my mind filling with certainty even as my heart shatters. I’m going to figure this out.
Staying with Wayne is pointless, even if he does get past his current excuses and decide to try.
He’s nothing more than a spoiled teenager at heart, and I’ve been an adult for a long time.
It would be nice to have someone hold me and tell me things are okay, but they’ll be fine either way. I’ll make sure they’ll be okay.
Wayne isn’t going to grow up, and sitting around hoping he will is just a recipe for heartbreak and disaster.
I’m capable of doing this on my own. I’ve done everything else in my life on my own, and I can do this, too. I’m going to make sure my child has a life where they’re taken care of and loved.
It’ll be one more thing to handle on my own, but this is worth it.
I’m certain of that.