CHAPTER 46
Summer
I throw another log on the fire and stare at the flames for a long moment. Eventually, I remember to go sit down. I collapse on the couch and reach for the box of stale granola and shove a few more pieces in my mouth.
I can’t keep doing this. I’ve been up here moping and sobbing and eating stale cereal straight from the box for going on two days.
Round and round in my brain go all the same things—all the shit I’ll never get to do.
How my life is being stolen from me. How unfair it is that the joy is being snatched away just as I decided to grab it and hold on to it for dear life.
Dear life.
Fuck it all.
I’m not allowed to get back in the saddle because of my concussion, but all I want to do is ride.
I want to do normal things. For as long as I can.
And for me, normal things are physical things. Riding. Roping. Rounding up. Training. Feeding. Repairing.
Rolling around in bed with Declan.
Fuck everything.
I only got a couple hours of sleep last night, and my eyes have been wide open since three thirty. Enough. I think I’ll go to the stables and muck out a few stalls.
At least I can do that without someone lecturing me about what is and isn’t the appropriate thing for me to do.
Fuck everybody.
But I’m afraid of seeing Declan. I’m afraid that he’ll try to convince me to take him back, and I can’t let that happen. It’s not fair to him. He’s young, and he deserves to live his life with the woman he loves. If he hangs around me, just to watch me die, it will destroy him.
I won’t do that to him. I won’t ruin his life.
Damn you, Beyoncé!
We should never have gotten this started.
If we’d kept things between us how they always were, Declan could just go live his life.
Maybe he’d think back on me every once in a while and tell his wife and kids about how there was once a ranch hand named Summer who got tragically sick and died and then everyone had to drop what they were doing to attend her funeral.
Fuck! I knew it!
I knew that the second I faced the truth of how I felt about Declan, the shit would hit the fan.
And that’s exactly what’s happened.
I punch the couch with my fist over and over and over again until I suddenly can’t breathe. I go numb, frozen, and it feels like the blood is stuck in my veins and my skull is an empty, whooshing void.
My body’s in disbelief the same way my mind is. It’s a physical reaction to being unable to comprehend what’s happening to me.
I collapse in a heap and sob my guts out.
This reality sucks donkey dicks.
I fuckin’ hate this reality!
I have to distract myself. I need to put a little normal back into my life. I’m going to the stables.
Fuck everything, everyone, and all of it!
I check the clock while I get dressed. It’s a little after four, which means Declan won’t be up for a while, and I’ll have at least two and a half hours to work up a big sweat, steal food from Finn and Emma’s house, and get back here without Declan seeing me.
I slide on my barn boots and grab my coat. I separate the logs in the fireplace to kill the flames. My head is pounding. It’s probably not a good idea to be running around with a concussion, but I don’t give a shit. Everything below the neck needs hard work.
I fly out the door, stop in my tracks, and scream in surprise.
“Good morning.”
Victoria’s standing under the porch light in a pristine white snowsuit, the picture of elegance long before the sun has appeared. Emma appears next to her, a huge basket of goodies in her arms. Phoebe joins them.
They stand there like bar bouncers, not letting me pass. I sigh.
I’ve grown to love these women, and it occurs to me that at this very moment, they’re my MacLaine sisters.
I have sisters. Sisters who think it’s okay just to show up on my doorstep at four in the fucking morning. Sweet Cletus, I love these girls.
But it won’t last. None of it. Not the sisters.
Not my marriage to one of the MacLaines.
Not me.
I try to think of something to say, something cool, calm, and casual. Something that reassures them that I’m fine, absolutely, totally fine, and how much I appreciate their visit, but I don’t need it. I don’t want it. I don’t have time for it.
“Nice to see you but I was just heading out,” is what I manage.
I gave it my best shot, but the reaction I’m getting is pretty lackluster. So I open my mouth to try again. Nothing escapes. I just stare at these beautiful women, women I respect and admire, as a tidal wave of emotion swells inside me.
Phoebe reaches out to touch my hand and everything I’ve been holding in pours out in yet another round of big, blubbering sobs.
My knees buckle and I fall in front of the door, doubling over. I cover my face in my hands as my body convulses. I’m powerless to stop the tears. Powerless to stand up and reclaim even a sliver of my dignity.
My sisters drop to their knees next to me, each putting their arms around me until we’re huddling and crying on the wooden floor like the world’s saddest football team.