3. Rory #2
At least, her knee-jerk assumption that he’s the one at fault, that this is completely unacceptable, is comforting. It gives me hope that maybe I’m not as crazy as I sound to my own ears.
“Yeah. So all the times that I was down on myself that you had to deal with? All fucking Nate Patterson’s fault.”
Allie turns her head to face someone off screen. “Yeah, that’s fine. I’ll have it to you in a couple hours.”
I press my lips together, holding back laughter as she rolls her eyes at whichever coworker has dared to interrupt our personal call on company time.
She looks back at me. “Sorry, at work as usual. You need me to head up there? Or pick you up at the airport?”
“I’m okay. You don’t need to do anything.”
“Or are we going somewhere else completely? Vegas? I’m in.
Let’s get shit-faced and forget about men.
” She turns her head again in response to a muffled voice in the background and speaks to someone off camera.
“Not on company time, you idiot. I’m talking to my friend.
Aren’t you the one who got drunk at the last event we put on? Shut it.”
I laugh at Allie’s ever-present sass. If she wasn’t so darn good at her job, I’m pretty sure they’d have fired her by now.
“I can’t go to Vegas, Allie. I have a job.” Not to mention that I’m not really sure what I’d do in Vegas.
Gambling, sure, but it’s not like I’m rolling in cash that I can afford to lose.
Drinking? Cheaper to do right here in town.
The rest of my knowledge of Sin City is heavily influenced by The Hangover, so the other Vegas activities that pop into my head include things like stealing tigers and getting married to someone you just met.
Not exactly my scene.
“Mandy would understand if you needed a few days off. Let’s go sit by a pool and drink fruity drinks. I’ll pay for the flights.”
She’s not wrong, at least about Mandy. My boss would support me however she could.
But the situation feels a little too similar to how I ended up in my hometown in the first place, back in August, when I made a bunch of spontaneous decisions after a breakup. It’s what led me down this rabbit hole in the first place.
To be fair, it wasn’t just a breakup. I lost my job at the same time, and between the two blows, decided to just give up my apartment and run away from my life.
I ended up here in HiLo, and as things fell into place with Nate and my job at the barn, I started to wonder if everything was meant to be like this. If I hadn’t been running away from my life, like I thought, but had just been running toward something.
So much for that theory, I guess, because the current circumstances seem a little too familiar when I think back to my life in Denver: feeling like I’m on the right path my happy ending within sight, only to have the rug pulled out from under me.
But even if it’s a similar situation, I’m not the same Rory I was then.
I’m older and wiser, if only by a couple of months.
I have a job that I love.
A community that’s welcomed me back seamlessly, as though I never left.
This breakup hits harder than any of the others. This time, though, I’m not running.
Run once, and it’s a big, dramatic, life-changing statement.
Do it twice, and you’re flighty.
It’s not even how other people perceive me, at least not entirely. It’s how I see myself and who I want to be.
“I can’t, Allie. I’m not going to run.” I chew on my bottom lip, thinking through the next steps, nodding as each one forms in my mind. “I’m going to go stay with my parents. Spend some time with them. At least something good could come out of this situation, right?”
Allie tilts her head, studying me, then finally nods. “Just remember that it’s going to be hard to avoid Nate. If that’s what you’re trying to do.”
I swallow against the lump in my throat that rises at the thought of running into him.
In a small town, there’s no avoiding people. We share the same small market, the same coffee shop, the same two bars.
Am I going to be upset if I see him?
Picturing it, though, I realize it’s not that, though.
I’m angry.
I can handle seeing Nate if I have to. This isn’t the same situation that kept me away from HiLo for ten years.
This time, there’s something real that’s driven a wedge between the two of us. Something that’s entirely his fault.
Maybe this is my fault to some extent.
I shouldn’t have been so naive. I should have known that my first love was never meant to be my happy ever after.
But Nate promised that he’d never hurt me. And he broke that promise.
I straighten my shoulders, secure in my plans. “I’ve got this, Allie. Thanks for calling. I’ll talk to you soon.”
“Tell your brother I said hi.” She signs off, and my phone fades to black.
I roll my eyes as I set the phone on my lap.
It started as a joke, Allie’s crush on my brother, but it’s gotten kind of old. Maybe I should focus on helping her find love instead of on my own disastrous love life.
“Rory? You up there?” Mandy’s voice carries up into the loft.
Setting my hands on my thighs, I push myself up to stand and make my way to the stairs. “Yeah, I’m up here. Just talking to Allie.”
Mandy stands at the bottom of the stairs, hands on her hips. “Want to hear my take?”
“You know I do.” If I didn’t, I would have waited until I was somewhere else to call Allie.
Mandy hears and sees everything that happens in her barn. When I was younger, it was almost spooky, the way she seemed to know everything.
It’s less mysterious now that I’m old enough to understand that sound carries through poorly-insulated wood buildings, and that she has cameras everywhere for security and the safety of the horses.
When I reach the bottom of the stairs, she jerks her head toward the exit, indicating that I should follow her.
Our footsteps are in sync as we walk in silence through the barn, pull open the door and step into the sunlight.
I blink as my eyes adjust. It’s not exactly warm, but it’s not as cold as it’s been the past few days. Without wind, it’s almost a nice day, and even though the sun is starting to set, twilight hasn’t quite set in.
We reach the outdoor arena, the fenced area for riding. The dirt is smooth, the lines tracking around the space evidence that Mandy must have dragged the ring recently to clean things up after lessons.
We lean our chests against the top bar of the fence, upper arms resting on the rough wood, and stare out at the horizon.
“I think you should hear him out, Rory.” Mandy’s quiet observation is, quite possibly, the last thing I want to hear, and the last thing I expected from her.
She’s always preached independence, protecting yourself. Standing on your own two feet. I almost think she’s joking, at least at first.
But as she turns toward me, her expression makes me rethink everything.
Her forehead is lined with worry, brows pulled together, and there’s something in her eyes I can’t quite describe. Haunted, almost.
“I’ve known Nate Patterson a long time. As long as I’ve known you, pretty much,” she says, turning back to look out over the fields. “I know what kind of man he is, Rory. I don’t think he would…”
She blows out a long breath.
I wait for her to say more. To share her wisdom.
Mandy has never steered me wrong. Not yet, anyway.
She takes another deep breath and lets it go through pursed lips. “Well, anyway. I think you need to hear his side.”
I focus on the setting sun, not responding as I process her words.
Have I heard his side? Not really.
I think back, trying to remember what he said when I confronted him. Did I even give him a chance to tell his side?
My stomach clenches. I’m not ready to hear his side. It’s too raw, still.
I shake my head. “I don’t know, Mandy. I need time.”
She nudges my side. “You know you can do whatever you want, and I’ll support you, kiddo. I just make suggestions, and the decisions are up to you. But we all live with the consequences of our own choices.”
As she turns, a flash of something crosses her face, but it’s gone before I can make sense of it.
For a split second, I wonder if there are parts of Mandy’s life that she keeps hidden. I’ve shared just about everything with her over the years, and assumed I knew most everything about her.
Maybe there’s more to her past than she shares.
I don’t have time to really process it, though, and the pain of everything going on with Nate clouds my brain until every other thought fades to the background.
“I’m here for you, kiddo.” Mandy squeezes my shoulder.
I manage a small nod as I swallow hard.
She meets my gaze before she turns and heads back toward the barn without another word, leaving me with my thoughts and the weight of my decisions.
When I can no longer hear her footsteps, I push off the fence and walk toward my SUV.
Spam is sitting next to the driver’s door, knowing that the setting sun means it’s time to head home, and he lets out a happy yip when I scoop him up and deposit him in the passenger seat.
When I start the engine this time, my fingers are steady on the wheel, and I’m ready for my next step.