Chapter 20 #3
“We took bloodwork, and in the results, I discovered our baby was a girl.” A sob rips from my throat, and Jett flinches.
“I was planning on telling my family on Christmas and demanding your parents tell me where exactly you were. I wanted to tell you, Jett. Jesus. I was so hurt over you leaving me, but I couldn’t keep it from you.
It didn’t matter in the end, though. Two weeks later, she was gone, and once again, I was left to grieve her loss and you. ”
Without a second thought, Jett is pulling me into him. His strong arms wrap around my tiny frame as I sob into his chest. He runs his fingers up and down my spine, rubbing circles and letting me cry. Never once does he try to tell me to stop as I bleed out in front of him.
“I’m sorry.” His voice is roughened with emotion. “I’m so sorry I left you to deal with everything alone.”
I blink, taking in his apology and the regret laced through his words. Looking up at him, I trail the lone tear sliding across his stubble-covered cheek.
“I didn’t want to leave. God, Wren, you were it for me. But when I say I didn’t have a choice, I promise you, I didn’t.”
I shake my head, not wanting to hear this again. Everyone has a choice in life. I try to push my hands against my chest, but he holds me tight before reluctantly letting me go. I pace a few steps back, and he moves to Copper.
Fear ripples through me. “You can’t leave me out here.”
“I’m not going anywhere.” Jett’s hands work on one of the saddlebags on Copper’s saddle. He pulls out an old patchwork blanket.
My shoulders relax as I watch him spread the blanket over the grass. He lowers himself to the ground, bending one knee to rest his elbow on while the other straightens. Tapping the space next to him, he invites me to join. I hesitate.
“C’mon, Whiskey. Sit.”
My head snaps in his direction. It’s been entirely too long since I’ve heard my nickname leave his lips. The one he gave me when we were fourteen, after we snuck a bottle of whiskey into his basement and he told me my eyes reminded him of the liquor.
I take the spot next to him. Our bodies aren’t touching, but I can still feel the warmth of him radiating against me. The late afternoon sun is starting to set in the west as the buzzards circle in a cloudless sky. Their flying feels ominous for what’s to come.
“If I close my eyes, I can still feel the weight of that night I left you,” he says. “No goodbye. No explanation. Just gone.”
I tilt my head, staring at him as more tears build in the corners of my eyes. The painful memories hit me from every direction. “I don’t understand how you could’ve left.”
His voice cracks, the sound ragged. “I swear to you, Wren. That night, after you left the party, I messed up.”
I gasp, covering my mouth as the image of Jett cheating slaps me in the face. “Oh, God, did…did you cheat on me…?”
The words are a whisper, trailing off with the breeze. Jett whips his head in my direction so fast, I’m afraid he’s going to break his neck. “What? Hell no, Wren. There’s only ever been you.”
I blink, taking in the words. I’m relieved he wasn’t unfaithful, but I’m still confused.
Eyes red-rimmed, he looks into mine. “After you left, the party started to get out of control. Russ showed up with some of his stoner buddies, and the next thing I knew, I was higher than a kite.”
“Okay…it’s not like you were new to weed.”
“I know, but then I got in a car, and it all went to hell. I wasn’t driving, but it didn’t matter. I was as guilty as the driver. We drove up and down Windsor Road, and I took a baseball bat to the mailboxes.”
My eyes widen. “You did what?”
“I was a dumbass, you know that. But we were all messed up and decided to take things to the next level.” He sighs, pulling at a blade of grass.
“Ten minutes later, we were being pulled over, and I was in the back of a cop car. Under the influence of drugs and alcohol, I was facing as many charges as they could hit me with—criminal mischief, underage possession and consumption of alcohol and marijuana. I was lucky I wasn’t facing federal charges for the mailboxes.
And before I could even process the potential fines and jail time, Dad was standing outside the jail cell with orders, not choices. ”
I have no words. I knew Jett was trouble, we all were, but this? This is another level.
“Were you having second thoughts about living with me? Is that why you did it?”
The hand resting on his knee reaches out and cups my face. “God, no.”
“Then help me understand why you did it?”
“I don’t have a good reason, except I was stupid. You had left, Russ handed me a joint, and then I was in the car with his friends. He stayed back, tried to get me to stay too, but I shrugged him off. I wanted one more night of chaos before we moved away.”
I watch silently as his jaw tics, almost as if he’s reliving the night.
“When I got home, it was close to two-thirty in the morning. Dad shoved me inside, told me to get a shower, pack a small bag with essentials, and get in his truck. I tried to call you on the landline because I lost my phone, but no one answered. I couldn’t blame anyone; it was the middle of the night.
“We drove to Dayton, where I got on a bus to basic before the sun came up. No call. No note. No chance to look you in the eye. And I hated him for it, but I hated myself more. Because you were waiting for me—at that shitty one-bedroom we picked out in Columbus, the future we’d promised—and I broke all of it.
You didn’t deserve that version of me. You deserved better.
I never wanted to leave you behind, but I wasn’t worthy of your love. Not until I grew up.”
My chest rises and falls as I wrap my arms around myself like I’m holding all our shattered pieces.
“You think that makes it better? That knowing it wasn’t your hand holding the knife makes the wound hurt less?”
His throat bobs. “No. I—I need you to know I never chose to leave you. Not then. Not ever.”
I aggressively wipe my cheek, furious at the constant stream of tears that won’t quit. “I hear you. But I can’t forget what it felt like. Not just to be left, but to never hear from you again. Even if I understand it now, so many years have passed of me thinking one thing when it’s been another.”
I push to my feet. I can’t sit next to him, can’t look at the pain and honesty in his eyes. The same ones I once looked at like they hung the moon.
Moving close to Copper, I trail my hands down his neck.
It’s true what they say about horses—they’re emotional sponges and highly sensitive to our feelings.
The more I brush his coarse hair, the more I feel my body calm.
The conversations we’ve had today have been hard, daunting, emotionally exhausting.
Copper whips his head up, startling me briefly, before nuzzling into Jett’s arm as he leans against the fence.
“I hate how I fucked everything up.”
The ache in my chest twists tighter. “You didn’t fuck everything up.”
“Didn’t I?”
“We both did,” I answer, honestly. “Yours was the catalyst, but I kept secrets too.”
“But if I hadn’t left, then maybe…”
And it’s with those unsaid words that I feel the pain all over again, because of course I’ve played the what if game a thousand times.
I don’t have anything to say that wouldn’t make it worse. I’m tired of living in the land of what ifs and I’m sorrys. Nothing I say will make it better, so I keep my mouth shut.
Right now, this is enough. It’s time to process what we’ve learned and figure out if there’s any way we move forward.
“We should head back.”
I nod as he steps forward, untying the reins.
“Swing up first.”
And I do. He hands me the reins as I scoot as close to the pummel as I can. The ride back is going to be tight and uncomfortable, but it’s not something we’re new to. Jett swings up onto the horse like it’s second nature, and to him, it is.
His hands settle on my thighs as he takes the reins from me. Our fingers brush and my body heats. He settles behind me and as Copper starts moving. I can feel the solid wall of his chest brushing against my back with each step.
Neither of us says a word the entire ride back. We’re both lost in thought—well, I’m lost in the way his body molds against mine.
The air swirls around us, charged with sexual tension and longing.
When we get back to the barn, Jett climbs off Copper first before reaching for my hips to help me down. My body slides down along his, and I’m hit with another wave of desire at our connection. Goosebumps break out over my skin and my pulse rises. When I glance up, I can tell he feels this too.
Jett cups my jaw in his large hands, neither one of us breaking eye contact.
I don’t even think we’re breathing, both afraid this moment will break.
He leans forward, his lips landing on mine.
And I kiss him back. It’s soft. Cautious.
But it morphs into more as his tongue slips between my lips.
Our tongues battle, but it’s not long before I’m pushing away as I gasp for air, Jett’s hand never leaving my jaw.
“I need to head home,” I tell him. It’s not quite the truth, but I need time alone to wrap my head around everything that’s happening.
He nods, brushing his thumb against my kiss-swollen lips. “Can I text you?”
I duck my head, trying to hide the blush creeping up my neck as I nibble on my lip. “Ye-Yeah. I’d like that.”
He places a gentle kiss on my forehead before walking me to my truck. Opening the driver’s door, he watches me get inside before shutting me in. As I back out of the driveway, he’s still standing there, watching me leave. But this time, there’s a smile on his face.
Even after all the pain, this feels right. Like Wren and Jett, forever. The words are carved all over our two properties, on every tree we’d hide behind and steal kisses.
Our truths hurt so much because we still matter to each other. And for the first time since I came home, I let myself believe that maybe the truth is the first step back to us.