Page 59 of Wilde About You

"I don't need to do this now. We can look at them another time. I can help with the mucking." I zipped up my bag.

"That neon yellow ribbon," Colin said with an eerie calm in his voice.

I lifted the ribbon and let it drop. "It's been tied there for a few years. I was on a crew with a lot of photographers, and almost everyone had black bags. I found an easy fix. Never picked up the wrong bag after that." I explained the whole dull thing airily, but there was nothing airy about the air in the room. Colin's whole body was tense as he continued to stare at the ribbon.

"Shit, Colin, what's your problem?" Nate asked. "We won't look at the pictures if you don't want."

"The yellow ribbon," Colin said, cooly. "You were on the sideline with your equipment."

Everything inside of me felt wobbly. I had no idea what was going on, but I wasn't sitting across from the man who I'd laughed with and made love to for many glorious days.

"You said it was something neon yellow," Finn said grimly. "The flash of color that yanked your attention away from the slope. You can't blame Sadie for your attention problem. That you got from your mom. She never could keep herself focused." Finn chuckled again, but this one wasn't genuine. It was forced. And it wasn't helping.

"Seriously, bro," Nate said. "You don't know that's what did it."

Colin stood up. "I've got stables to clean. I don't need any help," he added sharply. He stomped out of the house.

I sat there frozen on the couch with my equipment bag and the stupid yellow ribbon trapped between my feet.

"He'll be fine. Just give him time," Finn said.

"I caused his crash. It's all my fault and then I added insult to injury by getting involved with him. He lost his team, his sponsors, his apartment." My voice was breaking like a dry soda cracker. "I ruined his life." Tears started to fall. "Why am I not the least bit surprised?"

"Now, Sadie," Finn said quietly.

"No, I'm a life ruiner. It's what I do," I sobbed. "Excuse me." I grabbed my pack and raced upstairs to the bedroom. I threw the bag across the room and heard the cameras clack together. I dropped to my knees and cried myself into a major case of hiccups. This was the ending I'd feared. Well, not exactly. This wasn't something I could ever have predicted, but I knew this was all too good to be true. Happiness wasn't my thing. I'd been chasing it my whole life. I traveled around the world on that quest, but always, in the end, things went south. This was topnotch heartbreak, like I'd never experienced. I needed to go. Staying would only prolong the agony.

I hurried around the room and swept up my clothes. We'd been having wild nights … and days and it seemed every article of clothing I owned was strewn around the room. I snatched up a white shirt that I realized belonged to Colin. I lifted it to my face and breathed in deeply. The scent of his soap lingered on the fabric, just like the sweatshirt. I had that packed deep in the bag. I'd keep it as a reminder to never fall in love again. I'd tried it. I'd dipped my toe in that water, but it wasn't for me. I was better off alone. That was how I'd felt most of my life, trying to be noticed or connect with a family who wouldn't have noticed me if I'd spontaneously burst into flames in the middle of the living room. I'd brought trouble to them. I was sure Dad would be happy never to see me again, and Ace already told me he was through being the big brother to a spoiled brat. It was funny. I could be a brat. Of that, I had no doubt. My teachers would have agreed wholeheartedly, but I never felt like I was spoiled. I'd all but fended for myself since high school, while my brothers had been given cars, college accounts and down payments on first houses. I'd finally showed up to stay with my parents because I had literally nowhere else to go, and I felt like an unwanted guest in my own home.

A knock on the door sounded loud and jarring in my tense state. "Sadie, it's me, Finn. I chugged my crappy knees up those stairs to talk to you, so don't turn me away."

I wiped any residual tears from my eyes, but I knew my pink nose and eyes would give me away. I opened the door.

Finn's gaze went right to the backpack in my hand. "You don't need to leave, Sadie. He's just stewing about everything that's happened. You didn't make him crash and lose the title. He managed that all on his own."

"I really should get back to my apartment. I need to shower and get ready for my interview. Thanks again, Finn, for everything."

He ran his thick fingers through his hair. "Guess I can't convince you to stay then. Well, take care of yourself, Sadie. It was nice having you here at the ranch. You did Colin a lot of good. Hardly seen him smile since the accident." He paused, realizing he'd brought up a very sore subject again. "Anyhow, if you're ever in need of a good chess partner⁠—"

I was certain Finnegan Wilde wasn't the hugging type, but I gave him a quick one anyhow. "Tell Colin goodbye for me, and tell him I understand completely." My heart knotted up in my chest as I said it. Only Sadie Rivers could have ended a perfect relationship with such a crummy twist.

Maybe it was time to give up my cameras completely.

twenty-eight

. . .

Colin

I'd taken Toby out for a ride to clear my head. My reaction to that stupid yellow ribbon was embarrassing. Nate called me a drama queen, and that was probably a good way to describe it. I let myself lose focus. It could have been anything on the sidelines, a yellow hat, a cheering spectator or a fucking yellow ribbon. It didn't matter what'd grabbed my attention. What mattered was I allowed it to be grabbed. In school, the teachers all insisted I'd do so much better on medication. Dad resisted until I told him it was pure torture sitting still in class. They prescribed me meds, and instantly, I turned into a sloth. I was sluggish and tired and I lost so much weight Ronan was calling me his stick figure twin. The meds just weren't for me. I'd considered taking them as an adult, but that bad experience as a kid had turned me off the idea. I needed my energy and my muscle weight to be competitive. I'd overcome most of the problem, but there were times, like out on that hillside, when I tried too hard to focus, and that usually led to me losing focus.

I got back to the barn. Nate was sweeping the barn aisle. "She left," he said plainly.

I dropped down from the saddle and turned his direction. "What did you say?"

"Sadie split. She called an Uber. Wouldn't even take a ride from Dad or me. Had all her things with her." He looked at me. "Idiot."

"Fuck off. I already know that."