Chapter 32
CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO
SADIE
You know when you’re having a bad day and then something minorly inconvenient happens—like your sweater snagging on a door handle—and you think, Fuck my life, it can’t possibly get any worse than this.
This is worse.
It’s been days since I’ve cried, but I’m far from okay.
Is it possible to run out of tears?
I think something inside of me is just…broken. Shattered beyond repair.
Each day slips by in a blur. I wake up every morning in a room that doesn’t feel like mine, and in a bed that is cold and hollow and empty, no matter how many blankets I burrow beneath.
I go through the motions, checking off each chore one by one. Feeding and brushing the horses, giving Monty extra love and apple slices. I clean everything twice. Smile when I’m supposed to. Laugh when someone tells a joke—even if it’s not funny.
I’m a ghost in my own skin.
And somehow, nobody sees it.
They don’t notice the way my hands tremble when I see him. The way my chest caves in and I can’t breathe when I have to help him with the horses.
The way I’m slowly unraveling, thread by thread.
I’m not supposed to feel this way about him. That was the whole fucking point of everything.
Now I’m stuck here for another few days, suffocating and heartbroken over a man who hates me. He has every right to.
He hasn’t spoken a word to me. Refuses to look at me. And honestly…I don’t blame him.
I would give anything to rid myself of the intolerable ache that’s taken residence behind my rib cage.
The only place I feel like I can breathe is the barn. It’s mostly quiet, and the mornings have been getting cooler and cooler. A whisper of fall is in the air.
I’m not sure I’ll ever feel whole again, but I feel like I’m falling apart a little less when I’m out here—even with memories I shared with Wesley carved into the walls.
Monty lifts his head the moment I walk in, ears flicking forward, soft eyes blinking slow and easy, like he’s been waiting for me.
I slide into his stall and press my forehead against his neck, breathing in that familiar scent—warm hay, sun, and dust.
“I’m really gonna miss you, old man,” I whisper, brushing my fingers along his neck.
He leans into my touch and I close my eyes, letting myself have this for a few seconds longer.
The crunch of gravel beneath boots pulls me out of the peaceful moment. I glance over my shoulder to find Landon walking toward Monty’s stall, a soft, apologetic smile on his face.
“Hey, um, Wes asked for Monty for this morning’s ride.” His tone is gentle and soothing, probably the same one he uses with nervous kids before they get on a horse for the first time.
“Yeah, of course. He’s all yours.” I sigh, stepping out of the way.
I give my favorite guy one last rub behind his ear before slipping out of the stall.
Not being able to take him out for one last ride is just another shitty reminder that everything is falling apart.
Landon clips his lead rope to Monty’s halter, leading him down the breezeway. I blink hard, trying to keep it together.
I’m reaching my limit of composure when Lane passes by the entrance.
Can’t I just get one fucking minute of peace?
He’s been keeping to himself since he got back from the center—well, he’s been avoiding me, at least.
Maybe I’m too much of a reminder of all the parts of him he’d rather forget. I understand. I’m still happy for him for doing what he needs to do and taking the steps to get better.
Once everyone finally leaves, I throw myself back into work, skipping lunch. Lydia and I still haven’t talked about everything, and I hate the thought of leaving here without closure, but I can’t bring myself to go to the lodge.
Emmett could be there. Wesley could be there.
I’ll have to live the rest of my life knowing the hurt and pain I’ve caused is irreparable. Knowing he will never know the truth.
The sun is fully up now and I’m starting to sweat through my sweater. I yank it off, tossing it to the side, before leaning against the wall for a water break.
“Thought I might find you out here.” Emmett’s voice echoes softly behind me.
I turn to face him. He’s holding one of the brown paper bags we pack trail-ride lunches in, and there’s a look on his face—heavy, bruised with remorse.
“Here I am,” I reply with a shrug, unsure what to say or how to say it.
Thankfully, Emmett makes the first move. He walks a few slow steps closer and holds the bag out to me.
“Lydia said she hadn’t seen you…so I thought you might be hungry.” He hesitates. “And it’s sort of a peace offering.”
“Oh. Thanks.” I take it, even though my appetite is nonexistent.
He settles, leaning against the wall beside me. He crosses his arms over his chest as he joins me in staring at Monty’s empty stall, letting silence blanket us.
Only the crinkle of the paper bag and the soft rustle of wind through the trees fill the space between us—subtle and distant. Literally and figuratively.
It’s not uncomfortable. It just leaves room for my mind to drift back through everything I’ve lost this summer.
“I’m sorry,” he whispers eventually. “For everything. For what happened with…us. How I made everything worse for you.”
My eyes stay fixed on a single piece of hay on the ground. “You don’t need to apologize. I made a choice, and there was a consequence.”
“Yeah,” he murmurs, voice quiet and thoughtful. “I don’t feel good about how I treated you, though—using you like that.”
I hum, nodding slowly, because I’m guilty of that too.
Another wave of silence washes over us.
“I was with Wesley.”
The whispered admission slips past my lips before I can stop it, broken and pained, but it’s relieving to finally say it out loud.
I see Emmett glance at me from the corner of my eye, though I don’t look back. I’m not sure I’d be able to keep myself together if I did.
“What do you mean?”
“We were together—like, together.” I pause. “It was only for a few weeks. I ended it—badly—and that’s why everything went to shit.”
“Wow…” He lets out a long breath. “Well, that explains a lot, actually.”
“Everything is my fault,” I say quietly. “I kissed you because I wanted to forget how much it hurt.” He shifts beside me but doesn’t respond. “I’m the one who made everything worse.”
We stare at the empty stall for a long moment. I hadn’t realized how isolating myself was only making everything heavier—how much I’d missed the simple comfort of someone just being here with me in the mess.
“You love him.”
It’s not a question.
“Yeah,” I whisper, closing my eyes.
There’s a gentle sadness in his voice when he says, “I think he loves you, too.”
The quiet settles between us again, our words lingering in the still air.
A weight lifts off my shoulders, only to be replaced by the cruel truth that Wesley doesn’t love me too. He never said it back. But that wasn’t part of the deal. I’m the one who broke the rules.
Emmett bumps his shoulder into mine before standing and brushing off his jeans. He pauses in the breezeway before finally asking, “Can you make me a promise?”
“Potentially.”
His mouth lifts into a small grin. “Don’t leave without saying goodbye.”
A boulder forms in my throat. I manage a small nod before he tips his head and walks out.
I feel split clean down the center. Half of me can’t fathom leaving this quiet mountain town, this ranch, these people. But the other half of me knows I wouldn’t survive it if I stayed.
Because my heart has a Wesley-shaped hole in it that will never properly heal.
The sun drapes the mountains in gold as I drag my boots across the gravel, soaking in my last sunset on the ranch.
I’m not ready for it to end, so I keep stopping along the fence line to pick a few wildflowers—tiny souvenirs I plan to press and keep.
Iris trots beside me, the tips of her puppy ears bouncing with every step, blissfully unaware this is our last walk from the barn to the main house. I’m going to miss her so much. Maybe Emmett will send me pictures of her after I leave.
“Are those for me?”
I glance up to see Lydia sitting in one of the rocking chairs, an unopened bottle of tequila resting in her lap. My gaze drops to the handful of flowers, then back to her.
“They’re yours if you want them,” I say, holding them out.
Something in her expression flickers before she quickly blinks it away. “You didn’t have to get me flowers to apologize. I’m the one who should be choking on a big fat slice of humble pie.”
A smile tugs at my mouth despite everything. God, I’ve missed her.
“I am sorry though,” I say softly.
“I’m sorry too. I’m sorry it took me so long to come to my senses. I should’ve let you explain, but I was too mad about my own shit to see reason.” She shrugs.
“I should’ve tried harder.”
“Nothing we can do about the should’ves and could’ves. It’s your last night, and I think it should end on a high note.” She lifts the bottle, grinning.
I’m definitely going to regret this on my flight tomorrow, but that is a problem for future Sadie.
I promised myself after that night with Emmett that I was done using alcohol to numb my pain. But the tequila warms my veins. I’m giggling with my best friend and lying on the floor, snuggling with a puppy. For the first time in weeks, it feels like maybe—just maybe—I’ll be okay.
“I have a confession,” I blurt, Don Julio loosening my tongue.
Lydia sits cross-legged on my bed, my favorite quilt wrapped around her shoulders. “Speak, my child,” she says in a deep, solemn voice, holding her arms out like a prophet.
I laugh, climbing onto the bed beside her. “Wesley is the guy—was the guy? I don’t know. I can’t think clearly right now, but whatever—it was Wesley.”
She rolls her eyes. “That’s hardly a confession. I already knew that.”
My eyes widen. “What? How?”
“Well, I guess I didn’t know for sure,” she says, scrunching her nose. “But I had my suspicions. Especially when Wesley was extra moody—like, way more than usual—and it was around the same time you were moping around here like a sad, lost puppy.”
I twist my lips to the side and pat the bed, encouraging Iris to jump up.
“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you when it happened. I wanted to, but we promised not to tell anyone.”
“I get it.” She smiles, leaning closer. “Sooo, how was it?”
“It was good.” I groan, covering my face as I flop backward onto the bed. “It was really, really good.”
“If I was having really good sex, I would not be sulking around like you’ve been.”
“We agreed we would just be a summer fling. Then things got complicated and we got in a fight—I ended it almost a month ago…and regretted it…and then I really fucked it up and ruined everything.”
“Because you ended it early?”
“Confession time, part two.” I hesitate. “I got really drunk at Lucky’s last weekend and hooked up with Emmett.”
I brace for her reaction but she’s eerily still, just staring down at the bed.
“We only made out, nothing more. So maybe that’s not hooking up?
I don’t know, but we both agreed it was a mistake and will never happen again.
” I grab her shoulders through the quilt.
“I don’t love him like that. We were drunk and trying not to feel.
I don’t have a brother, but it felt like kissing my brother. ”
Lydia gags. “Fucking gross.”
“Exactly.” I grin weakly. “I promise, the only Morrow boy I want to kiss does not want to kiss me back.”
Her voice softens. “Why do you think it’s ruined?”
I blow out a breath, pulling my knees to my chest. “Because the morning after, Wesley saw me sneaking back to my room wearing only Emmett’s shirt.”
“Oh.”
“Yep. It did not look good, and I don’t blame him for assuming it was more than it was. But he didn’t let me explain…and that was it. The end.”
“I’m sorry, Sades,” Lydia murmurs, holding her arms open.
I collapse into her embrace and she wraps her arms around me tightly. Iris wiggles into the center, attacking both of us with wet puppy kisses.
Yeah…I’m sorry, too.