Chapter 19 #2
My pulse thuds in my ears as a single, unbearable thought starts to form—and I don’t let myself finish it. If he’s planning an exit without me, I need to hear it now.
I push the door open.
His eyes widen, caught mid-thought, mid-panic.
Yeah. I caught you.
“Let me call you back,” he says quickly, ending the call as his gaze flicks over my face, assessing, bracing.
“I found something in the will,” he adds before I can speak. “If you sell your shares—the ones I told you to take—the land becomes even more vulnerable. It puts it into eminent domain.”
He exhales hard, scrubbing a hand over his face.
“Not just the pieces I warned you about,” he says quietly. “The entire damned thing.”
“How much of that did you hear?” “Enough.”
“I didn’t tell you because I didn’t want to force you into a decision.”
He steps toward me, hands lifting instinctively—but I move out of his reach. I don’t want him touching me. The thought of it sends a cold weight settling low in my gut, heavy and sickening. I let him into my life, into my heart—and he shut me out anyway.
I’m an idiot. And I have no one to blame but myself.
I nod slowly, tears burning hot behind my eyes as everything clicks into place.
Of course it does. Everything always comes back to the ranch. Not wanting me beside him. Not trusting me enough to decide together. Just finding another way to save it on his own terms—without choosing me.
“So why didn’t you just tell me that?” I ask, already feeling like I know the answer.
Gage has made strides, I’ll give him that. But there are still too many things he never says—too many thoughts he keeps locked away, sitting heavy between us. For weeks now, I’ve been waiting for him to say the words.
I want you to stay.
It might be moot now, but maybe I’d be less angry—maybe I’d even change my mind—if he’d just asked.
He shrugs. “I didn’t want to make decisions for you.”
I shake my head, a hollow laugh threatening to break free. I can’t make decisions if I’m not being chosen.
What’s the point of a struggle only one of us is fighting?
“Is it always going to be like this?” I ask quietly, finally meeting his eyes.
“Are we always going to clash over this place?”
“Say the six months are up and we decide it’s safer to keep the ranch as equal partners. Do we just go through this again while you go behind my back looking for a buyout?”
He shakes his head. “If I don’t have this place, I’ve got nothing.”
His voice is tired. Defeated. And it’s those words that shatter me.
Then what am I, if the ranch is all he has? Why am I not something?
“When you go back to Austin, you’ve got a whole career,” he continues. “You can go anywhere with it.”
“But this is it for me,” he adds. “I don’t know anything else. And if I don’t have it—then what am I?”
I want to tell him he’s so much more than this land. That he’s a man, not a boundary line or a balance sheet. But the words die on my tongue because I know he won’t hear them—not like this.
I bite my bottom lip as Roger West’s name surfaces uninvited.
His offer still sits heavy in my mind, an option I didn’t want to consider—but can’t ignore.
“Horizon Group approached me about the shares,” I say quietly. “The day after you gave them to me.”
His gaze snaps to mine.
“I think I might speak to him,” I add. “It might be what’s best for me.”
Even as I say it, everything in me screams otherwise.
Maybe I’m hoping for a reaction.
Maybe I’m hoping he’ll say anything—push back, tell me it’s a mistake, tell me we could run this place together even if I’m based in Austin.
His eyes search mine, but the steel-gray storm I’ve grown weak for is gone—replaced by distance. By something hollow.
He just stares back at me, trapped by whatever still holds him in place, unwilling to reach for more.
And that’s when I understand the real problem.
It isn’t him hesitating. Or this conversation.
It’s the fantasy we let ourselves believe.
The idea that one night could be enough—for Gage to lower his walls, confess his past, and suddenly let everything fall into place.
A dream we clung to because it was easier than the truth. Because the truth is, we never reached the root of this. We never said the things that actually mattered.
Maybe this is what happens when no one says the words that matter most.
He sighs and nods, his throat bobbing as the vein in his neck pulses.
“I think you should do what’s right for you,” he says softly.
And that’s it.
He’s letting me walk away.
I don’t manage to hold it together until I’m out of the office. Tears blur my vision as I make it back to the house, to my room, shutting the door behind me.
My heart tightens as the realization settles in.
He ended things without ever saying it out loud.
What did I do? Why is he doing this?
The questions pile up—no answers, no explanations for why Gage keeps hurting me, or why I keep coming back. Why am I putting myself through this?
But I know the answer.
I think I’ve known it for a while now.
I love him.
Despite everything, I still love him—because a life without Gage Hollis doesn’t feel like a life at all. Just an existence. And no matter how much it hurts, I meant what I said in the office.
I have to do what’s best for me.
I reach for the card with Roger’s name on it. I hesitate—but only for a moment. I can’t afford to lose my resolve now.
I dial. He answers immediately.
“Roger West.”
I swallow. “Mr. West, it’s Sloane Carter from Hollis Ranch. Are you still interested in those shares?”
“Absolutely, Miss Carter,” he says, his tone shifting instantly. “I’m actually in Bell River. We can meet and talk numbers if you’d like.”
I nod, even though he can’t see me.
This is the start of an exit—one that doesn’t require Gage to choose me. This isn’t punishment.
It’s survival.
I can’t force something when the other person isn’t willing to meet me halfway.
The real question is whether I’m ready to follow through.