Chapter 19 #3
She blinks those impossibly long, dark eyelashes at me, her cheeks gaining a rose tint. I feel like I owe it to her to share a bit of me. No, I don’t owe it to her. I want to tell her. I want to let her see the edges of my soul nobody has seen yet, even if it’s selfish for me to do so.
“And sometimes, like in my case, no matter how much you want something, it isn’t enough to keep it. Or fix it.”
She sits straighter.
“Yes, I was married before. I know you heard some of the conversation, and I’m just going to assume you heard it all.”
“Not all. Just a little bit. I promise I didn’t—”
“It’s okay, Riley. Really. I’m not upset.” She doesn’t say anything, just nods and grabs her tequila, taking another sip.
"Anyway. I was married for four years.” The sky opens up and soaks the fields in deep dejection.
“We dated for a while, and we got married mostly because it made sense, but the whole thing was unfair to every party involved, especially her. She loved me, and her goals were aligned with what I promised. I just never delivered.”
“Damn. You didn’t strike me as the not following through kinda guy.”
I shake my head. “I’ve had time to think about it, and, honestly, I’m not. I just wasn’t committed to her.”
She gasps.
“I didn’t cheat on her.” I exclaim quickly before she can elaborate on that thought.
Why is it that people go there first? There’s a million ways to not be committed without ever laying eyes on someone else.
“At least, not in the sense most people think. I was in a toxic, long-term relationship with my job and the expectations I set for myself as the oldest of three, from parents who fought really hard for everything we had. My job, climbing the career ladder, and working until I had nothing left to give were the only things on my mind. So, while I did want the marriage, the house, the kids, I wasn’t ready for it, not when she was. ”
“Damn.”
I nod. She’s taking it better than most people my age. She’s wise beyond her years, which stokes the attraction I have for her. There’s no point in lying to myself about it.
“See? Trauma.”
I chuckle this time. “Yeah. Lots of it.” I take a second to compose my thoughts.
I’ve thought about what went wrong with my marriage plenty, but all this information is new to Riley.
I can talk about it without feeling like a complete failure, even if it still reminds me I’m not husband material, but at least I know there are other things I can do well. Like taking care of this land.
“And you know, in a way, we both came here for the same reason.”
“And what is that?”
“To find ourselves again,” I say. Riley stands, hands on the rail, just like I’ve done so many times before, finding strength in the steadiness of this place that has held strong through generations.
I stand next to her, tea in hand, letting it warm my body the way the gesture warmed my soul, before setting the empty mug down.
“What if nobody loves who I really am?” Her ache-filled question makes the thread holding my self-control snap, and I draw her into my arms. She’s tense at first, but like butter in a hot pan, she melts into me, her head resting on my chest and her small arms wrapped around me like I’m the only anchor she needs right now.
I’ve fought the urge to take her in, to fall down the rabbit hole of unraveling thoughts of what ifs and why nots, but in this moment, I let my body speak for once and just hold her. All wildflowers, honey, and a splash of tequila.
“Everyone who meets you falls in love with a part of you, Riles. Believe that.” I hold her tight to me, listening to the thundering of the rain on the roof mimicking the thumping of my heart under her ear.
She puts space between us, enough to peer up at me through her thick lashes, but remains close enough that it would take just a dip for me to taste that honey, wildflower, and tequila.
She must read my mind or see it in my eyes, because she raises to the tip of her toes, her hands climbing up my chest to hold my neck.
And it’s not until I can practically feel her breath against my lips that it hits me.
Her delicate hands.
Her caring sky-blue eyes.
All twenty-two years young of her.
This is Riley, and this cannot happen.
I look away, unable to look her in the eyes as I deliver a hit to her heart while she’s already down. “Riley.”
“Just one kiss, Dom. Come on.” Her words slide down my body and land straight into my heart.
But where she’s asking for kindness, I’m going to deliver a blow, and I already hate myself for it. “You don’t know what you’re asking for.” I let out a breath, taking a step back, a big enough one to help me breathe and think clearly again. “We can’t.”
She sucks in a breath, disappearing from my arms without uttering a word. I finally dare to look, and I shouldn’t have. Her hands cover her mouth as she shakes her head.
“I’m so sorry. I—I—have a good night!” she shouts, rushing to her cabin and disappearing behind the door. She didn’t give me a second to explain, but what would that have done either way? Hurt her more than she already is, which is the opposite of what I wanted.
And, as if the sky knows it too, thunder rumbles, lightning strikes, and I’m alone again.