29 | Speakin truth
COLTON
She looks so damn vulnerable standing there in her pajamas—the oversized long sleeve hanging off her like it was tossed over a hanger and forgotten.
It’s nothing like the satin sets she wears when she sleeps at my place.
Her eyes are red and puffy, her face pale and tight, and there’s this…
emptiness in her expression that makes my chest ache.
“What are you doing here?” Her voice is soft, but there’s a tremor under it. Her face flickers with all kinds of emotions.
“I couldn’t go to sleep knowin’ you were cryin’.” I keep my voice low and careful, slowly inching closer like I might spook her if I move too fast.
“So you just… drove here?” She blinks, like she can’t quite believe it. “Don’t you have to move the cattle tomorrow?”
“Wells can do it, sweetheart. Or the ranch hands. I’ve hardly taken a day off since Pa died.”
That quiet hits different. She looks at me for a long beat, trying to make sense of me standing in her living room in the middle of the damn night. “How do you even know where I live?”
“I asked Grady.” My gaze drops to the couch. “You want me to turn around and head back, or should I sit?”
Clementine’s eyes flick to the microwave clock, the numbers glowing red. “It’s almost midnight.” She rubs her temples, then sighs. “Fine. Sit down.”
My fingers tighten around my hat. “Tiny, I’m sorry for showin’ up this late. I left right after you called—“
“It’s fine, Colton. Sit.”
She tucks herself into the far corner of the couch, pulling a blanket over her legs. I’ve never wanted to touch someone so bad in my life. She looks breakable in the worst way. I just want to tuck her into me and hold her until we fuse into one.
I drop down at the other end instead, shrug off my coat, and let my eyes roam her face, drinking her in. That messy bun, the dark crescents under her eyes, the faint pink on her nose. Still the prettiest thing I’ve ever seen.
“I kind of figured you were gonna do the talkin’,” she murmurs, not looking at me, but I don’t miss the way her cheeks bloom pink.
I clear my throat, looking past her. “Well… I was hopin’ we could do that in private.”
Clem frowns, then twists around. “Guys!”
“Whaaat?” Savannah groans. “There was so much cinematic tension. We couldn’t help it.”
“Out!” Clementine hisses, snatching a pillow off the couch and chucking it at them.
Devin and Savannah tumble into Clem’s bedroom, giggling, and I can practically hear them stumble over each other to press their ears to the door.
I grin. “We could always go out to my truck if you—”
“It’s late, and I’m cold. You came here, now you just have to deal with these rude little eavesdroppers.” She yells the last part over her shoulder, earning muffled laughter from the other side of the door. She rolls her eyes as she turns back to me. “Talk.”
I drag a hand through my hair. “Nathaniel came to see me at the ranch, ’bout a week before you left,” I start, choosing my words carefully. I’ve only got one shot at winning her back—I can’t afford to mess up. “It was the day after we went to the drive-in.”
A flush creeps up her throat. She’s thinking about that night—my hands all over her in the back of my truck while the rest of town watched the damn movie. The memory instantly makes me hard, but I try to focus anyway.
“I think you were out helpin’ Jace with the horses that mornin’. Anyway—your dad sat me down and talked about him and your mom.”
Her lips part, but she doesn’t speak.
“He told me how he’d met her when he was visitin’ family in the next town over. Your mom was droppin’ somethin’ off, I think.”
“Flowers,” she whispers.
I lift a brow.
“She was droppin’ off flowers for a wedding,” she clarifies. Her voice is steady, but her eyes won’t meet mine.
“Right. Flowers. Said he fell in love with her right then and there.” I shift forward, bracing my forearms on my knees. “He told me he’d never met anyone like her.”
She looks away, her throat working. “I know my parents’ love story, Colt.”
“Yeah. I know you do. I just—” I swallow. “He told me he lived in the country till he was thirteen. Swore he’d never come back. Not till he met your mama. He said he’d go to the ends of the earth for her. Didn’t matter where, he’d follow.”
Her eyes glisten. She reaches for the near-empty glass on the side table, and I take it from her hand, crossing to the kitchen to fill it. When I hand it back, my fingers brush hers, and she shivers.
“You cold, darlin’?”
She shakes her head, dragging the blanket up to her chin. “Just get to the point, Colton.”
I nod. “Basically, he explained how he never regretted his decision—not once. She was his world, and then you came, another beautiful anchor to the life that didn’t quite fit him. He said he never truly felt at home when you two weren’t there. That our town felt suffocating.
That he felt he could never really live up to his full potential there.”
I shift a little closer. “And that he knew you were destined for more, too. Always reading, always watching movies about the big city. He said he saw his own longing reflected in your eyes.”
Her jaw tightens.
“He told me you were in love with me,” I say softly. “Said he’d watched what I’d built on the ranch, and that he knew I wasn’t leavin’. Said if we stayed together, you’d get stuck here too. That you’d follow me outta love, same as he followed your mama—and he couldn’t let that happen again.”
Clem balls her hands into fists in her lap. “So he made that decision for me? And you just… went along with it?”
My throat works. “He said you’d stay, Clem. That you were too young to know what you wanted.”
Her eyes blaze, wet and furious. “If you loved me the way you say you did, why didn’t you fight for me? Why didn’t you call?”
“I asked him, what if you wanted to come back? What if you missed the ranch? Missed your cousins—” My voice drops. “Missed me?”
She’s trembling now.
“He told me if you wanted to come back, he wouldn’t stop you. That you’d reach out if you wanted to. But you never did.”
“Because you never did!” she cries, her voice cracking open like a fault line. “You just—fucked me through the summer and sent me off without so much as a real goodbye.”
“I promised him, Clem.” My voice is rough, shredded. “I promised I’d let you go unless you called first. I asked about you every chance I got—Jace, Grady, Savannah, even Marg. They all said you were doin’ great—thriving.”
She wipes at her eyes, furious. “I made a life here, Colton, because my old one was gone. Mom. Tessa. Sawyer. You.” Her voice trembles. “My old life was done with me.”
“I’ve never been done with you,” I grit out.
To hell with keeping my distance. I pull her against my chest. She stiffens, then melts against me. The second I wrap my arms around her, the tension leaves her body, and she inhales like it’s the first real breath she’s taken in days.
“I should’ve reached out,” I murmur into her hair. “I was twenty-four—in way over my head. I was runnin’ the ranch and drownin’ in grief. By the time I came up for air, I figured you’d forgotten me.”
Clem’s voice is a shaky whisper against my shirt. “I hadn’t.”
Something in me goes quiet.
“I wonder what would’ve happened if you’d stayed,” I say.
She tilts her chin up, eyes wet. “Me too.” Her hand slides beneath my shirt, resting warm and trembling against my abs, like she’s grounding herself.
I lie back, pulling her with me until she’s snuggled up on my chest, then I drag the blanket over us.
She sighs, nuzzling my neck, and for a second, everything is right in the world.
Then she lifts her head. “What would you have done if I’d called?”
I tighten my arm around her. “Answer,” I murmur without hesitation.
She huffs out a short laugh. “What if I’d asked you to come to me? Live in the city?”
My brows knit together. “Me? Move out here?”
Her lips curve, but there’s a challenge in her gaze. “Yeah. What if I’d found my dream life but still loved you? What if I wanted to share it with you—here?”
I shift beneath her, discomfort pressing against my ribs. “Tiny…”
She pushes up, eyes flicking over my face like she’s searching for the truth before I can tuck it away. “You wanted me to give up my life to be with you. Would you have done the same if it was the other way around?”
I drag a hand down my jaw, feeling the air go thick between us. “I mean, yeah. We would’ve, you know, made it work.”
“Answer the question, Colton.” Her voice sharpens, quiet but steady. “Would you have given up your entire life to be with me?”
My pulse stutters. I study her face—those red-rimmed eyes, the fire behind them—and I know there’s no right answer here. Only the truth.
I exhale slow, shaking my head. “No.”
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That's it. I died. Think they can get past this? ????