Page 138 of Then You Happened
He blows out a breath and looks out the window toward the ranch we made new again. “Coming here, getting to know you? For the life of me, I didn’t understand how fate crossed our paths, but I know I wanted you to fight for all of this.” He waves his hand toward the stables. “I wanted to fight for it beside you. Hell, I wanted to help fix the things he broke in you. Maybe if I helped you, then I could figure out myself . . .” He emits a soft chuckle as he looks down and then back up to me. “But then you went and made me fall in fucking love with you, Tatum. Then you happened.”
It takes every ounce of restraint I have not to step into him and tell him to stay.
But I know I deserve better than what he did to me.
Both are painful.
Only one is what I’ll allow myself to accept.
“This has been in my wallet since the first day I stepped on this ranch.” Jack takes a step forward and sets an envelope onto the counter beside me. “Take your time. Figure out what you need to figure out. It’s a lot easier to love through the hate than to hate through the love. I know that better than anyone. I just hope you choose to fight as hard for me and for us as you did for this ranch. I just hope you choose me.”
Tears well in his eyes, and that muscle feathers in his jaw as he takes another hesitant step toward me.
I hold my breath.
I freeze.
And then he leans forward and brushes his lips against mine one last time. My tears tangle on his tongue as it slips between my lips. His thumb brushes back and forth over the line of my jaw. The wince on his face, as if it’s physically hard for him to step back, to walk away, tells me this is as brutal for him as it is for me.
“Until next time,” he murmurs.
He meets my eyes one last time before he turns on his heel and walks out of the door.
His feet clomp on the stairs, carrying him out of my life.
Tears course down my cheeks as every part of me wants to call him back.
As every part of me yearns for him.
But I glance over to the picture he took of me that’s sitting on my counter. It’s supposed to remind me of the beginning of my next time.
The one that represents my promise never to settle again.
And I know calling him back would be settling.
It would be allowing myself to accept things no one ever should. Deceit. Equivocation. Duplicity.
I pick up the envelope he left, and blink once and then twice at the check that is inside it.
His truck starts.
I stare at it, shove it back inside, and let it fall to the floor.
I follow the crunch of gravel as his sister’s car and then his truck drives to the road.
When the sounds are gone, when I’m all alone, I walk out of the back door and step into the pool—clothes and all.
And I sink under water so that no one can hear me . . . and I scream at the world.
57
TATE
One week later . . .
“Tate. It’s me. I was hoping you’d want to talk by now. I’ve been trying to give you your space.” His sigh is heavy. “Look, I know you’re mad. You have every right to be mad, but I’m fucking miserable without you.” His laugh is self-deprecating at best, desperate at worst. “Yeah, its selfish of me to care how I feel when I’m the one who made you feel how you feel, but I just want to see you again.” Another sigh. “Call me back.”
I look d
