Chapter 16 The Things We Destroy #2
Like he still believed this conversation could end well.
That hope hurt more than anger would've.
Because anger I could survive.
Hope was another matter.
I looked out across the ranch.
The familiar buildings sat beneath the stars.
The barns.
The paddocks.
The fields.
Everything I'd spent years building.
Everything that suddenly felt empty.
I took a slow breath.
Then another.
Trying to find courage.
Not courage to fight for us.
Courage to destroy us.
The distinction mattered.
"You should go back to school."
The words landed between us.
Oliver blinked.
Confusion immediately replacing hope.
"What?"
I forced myself to continue.
Every instinct screamed at me to stop.
I ignored it.
"You should finish your degree."
His expression tightened.
The warning signs appeared instantly.
"No."
The answer came fast.
Certain.
"I should stay here."
My chest ached.
Because part of me wanted exactly that.
A bigger part.
The selfish part.
The part that loved him.
I crushed it.
Ruthlessly.
"That's not your future."
The silence that followed felt unbearable.
Oliver stared at me.
Trying to understand.
Trying to find logic where none existed.
I couldn't blame him.
The truth was that I wasn't being logical.
I was being afraid.
Afraid of holding him back.
Afraid of becoming the reason he settled for less.
Afraid that one day he'd wake up and realize he built his life around a broken cowboy with too many regrets.
The fear had been growing for weeks.
Now it controlled everything.
"You don't know what my future is."
His voice sounded hurt.
The sound nearly ended my resolve.
Nearly.
I looked away.
Because meeting his eyes would've destroyed me.
"Maybe not."
The lie tasted bitter.
I knew exactly what he wanted.
That's why this hurt.
The silence stretched.
Then Oliver stepped closer.
"I love you."
The words hit like a freight train.
Every defense shattered instantly.
Every wall cracked.
For one terrible second, I almost gave up.
Almost pulled him into my arms.
Almost told him everything.
That I loved him too.
That I couldn't breathe without him.
That my mornings started with thoughts of him and ended the same way.
Almost.
Then I remembered his age.
His future.
His dreams.
Everything he hadn't experienced yet.
And I forced myself forward.
Into hell.
"If you love me," I said quietly, "you'll leave."
The moment the words escaped, I wanted them back.
Immediately.
Desperately.
Too late.
Oliver looked like I'd slapped him.
The pain on his face was instant.
Raw.
Visible.
God.
The sight nearly brought me to my knees.
"Leave?"
His voice cracked.
I hated myself.
Completely.
"I don't understand."
Of course he didn't.
Because none of this made sense.
Not to him.
Not to me.
Not to anyone.
I swallowed hard.
Then chose the cruelest path available.
Because kindness wouldn't work.
Kindness would leave room for hope.
And hope would keep him here.
"I don't want this anymore."
The lie felt monstrous.
Oliver froze.
The world seemed to stop.
Even the wind disappeared.
For a second, neither of us moved.
Neither of us breathed.
The damage spread slowly across his expression.
Disbelief first.
Then confusion.
Then pain.
Unimaginable pain.
I had never hated myself more.
Not after the accident.
Not after the divorce.
Not after any mistake I'd ever made.
Nothing compared to this.
Because this was deliberate.
Intentional.
A wound delivered by choice.
Oliver shook his head.
Once.
Slowly.
"No."
The word sounded broken.
I looked away.
Coward.
Absolute coward.
Because I couldn't watch.
Couldn't survive watching.
"You don't mean that."
The certainty in his voice almost shattered me.
For one horrible moment, I wanted to tell the truth.
Wanted to confess everything.
Instead, I doubled down.
Like an idiot.
Like a coward.
Like a man determined to become the villain.
"I do."
Another lie.
Another wound.
Another piece of myself destroyed.
Oliver's breathing became uneven.
I recognized the signs immediately.
Heartbreak.
The real kind.
The devastating kind.
The kind that changed people.
The kind I swore I'd never cause.
Yet here I was.
Doing exactly that.
"Was any of it real?"
The question arrived quietly.
Barely above a whisper.
The answer sat inside me.
Screaming.
Every second was real.
Every smile.
Every conversation.
Every stolen moment.
Every dream.
Every ounce of love.
All of it.
Instead, I forced out the lie.
The final lie.
The one that killed whatever remained.
"It was a mistake."
Oliver stared at me.
The silence lasted forever.
Then something changed.
The hope disappeared.
The fight disappeared.
The love remained.
Unfortunately, now it was mixed with hurt.
The combination looked devastating.
I would remember that expression for the rest of my life.
Without another word, he stepped back.
Then another step.
Then another.
Creating distance.
Real distance.
The kind that couldn't be crossed with a touch or a conversation.
The kind built from broken trust.
Tears glistened in his eyes.
He blinked them away.
Proud even now.
Strong even now.
Better than me.
Always better than me.
Finally, he nodded.
A small movement.
Almost invisible.
"Okay."
The word destroyed me.
Because he believed me.
After everything we'd shared, he believed me.
The realization felt like a knife twisting deeper.
Oliver looked at me one final time.
Searching.
Maybe for the truth.
Maybe for the man he thought he knew.
Maybe for something worth saving.
I gave him nothing.
Because if I gave him anything, I would break.
And if I broke, he'd stay.
The thought kept me standing.
Barely.
Then he turned around.
And walked away.
I watched him disappear into the darkness.
Every step felt like losing something vital.
Something irreplaceable.
Something I would never get back.
Eventually he was gone.
The porch stood empty.
The ranch stood silent.
And I stood completely alone.
Exactly as I'd intended.
Exactly as I'd chosen.
The victory felt indistinguishable from death.
Because the truth was simple.
I hadn't saved Oliver.
I hadn't protected him.
I hadn't done anything noble.
I'd only broken the heart of the man I loved.
And as the night stretched endlessly around Blackthorn Ranch, I realized that some things, once destroyed, could never be put back together again.
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