by Keary Taylor
But there’s nothing here.
No sparks. No lightening. No heat.
Just two strips of flesh pressed up against my lips.
I pull away, meeting Jesse’s eyes.
What is that there? Is that confusion? Disappointment?
“Was that just really, really uncomfortable for you too?” he finally asks.
“Yeah,” I say with a little breathy chuckle. “Like, really…flat?”
“Yeah,” he chuckles. His face breaks into a smile, his eyes becoming bright again. “I, uh…wow. I have to admit, I’ve kind of thought about that kiss for a long while, but the reality of it was…”
“Un-explosive?”
“Something like that,” he laughs. “That kind of surprises me. I just expected when it happened that it just be perfect.”
We continue moving in slow circles, because during the weirdness, we stopped in the middle of the floor.
“I guess sometimes people just don’t have the right kind of chemistry?” I suggest.
“I guess not,” he says, his eyes distant, like he’s suddenly reevaluating everything. “Well, I guess now I know.”
“Now you know,” I add. I look back up at him, and it takes a moment before his eyes drop back down to me. “But still friends?”
His face breaks into a smile and he nods. “Friends.”
CHAPTER NINETEEN
When Jesse drops me off at home, Lake still isn’t back.
I notice that. Right away.
“Goodnight,” I say to Jesse as I open the door to the truck.
“Thanks again, for coming with me today,” he says.
“Thanks for being understanding about the weird kiss,” I reply with a little smile.
“Like I said, now we know. And now we can move on from it.” He looks hopeful. But not necessarily for himself. He looks hopeful for me.
“Maybe,” is all I say, because I don’t dare imagine further. “Night.”
I slide out and close the door behind me. I glance over my shoulder once when I get to the door, and I watch as Jesse drives away as I pull the door open.
For a second, my heart jumps into my throat and I about have a panic attack when I see a figure sitting on the couch.
“Kyle!” I half scream, half choke out. “What the hell are you doing here?”
Kyle turns from the TV that’s on low and looks back at me. His eyes grow hard, his brows furrowed together. He clicks the TV off and stands. “Lake called me this afternoon. You’ve got a stalker?”
“What?” I breathe, squinting in confusion. “Lake…”
“Yeah,” Kyle says, his hands on his hips. “Lake called me and said he had to go deal with stuff, but he didn’t want you at the house by yourself because some asshole is threatening you.”
“Uh,” I say with a groan as I kick my shoes off. “Go home, Kyle. I can handle myself.”
“Like hell I’m leaving you alone,” he says as he follows me upstairs. “How long has this been going on, Ry?”
“I’m putting an end to it,” I say when I get in my bedroom. It’s true, Kyle has seen me naked plenty, and I’m tired and annoyed, so I unzip my dress and let it drop to the floor with my back turned to him. I grab a tank top and pull it over me and slip on some denim shorts. “If he comes around here again, I warned him I’d hurt him.”
“So, what?” Kyle says. I look over my shoulder and see him folding his arms over his chest. “You’re just going to shoot him?”
“I have a right to defend myself,” I say with annoyance as I tuck my handgun into the back of my shorts. I push my way past Kyle and head back downstairs.
“Ry, this is nuts. We have to call Sheriff Akins.” He follows me down.
“Fine, call him!” I say as I slide my feet into my boots and walk out the door. I make sure to slam it shut behind me, a loud and clear message that I don’t want him following me.
I head out into the barn.
The horses whiney and snort when I walk in. I check their feeders and find them completely empty. From the ruckus going on, it’s clear that they haven’t been fed yet tonight.
A dead weight settles into my stomach as I carry out a bale and cut the twine. I feed each of them a flake, and then move over to the boarding stalls. They too haven’t been fed yet.
I try to tell myself that I’m not scared of the darkness around me and anyone who might be hiding in it, watching me.
The cold metal pressing into my back is a comfort. So is knowing Kyle is inside, watching me.
When I’m finished feeding the animals, I stand at the bottom of the steps to Lake’s apartment for a long while. My mind goes back to this morning, to me on the table, Lake between my legs. The Two us yelling at each other, each wanting different things, but the same things. Both unable to get there.
Finally, I walk up the stairs. I open his door, and turn on the light.
Lake doesn’t have much by way of earthly possessions, so there aren’t too many indicators right away if he’s packed up and left. I check the bathroom. No toothbrush or toothpaste around. There is a razor and some shaving cream in one drawer.
In the bedroom there aren’t many clothes in his drawers or in the closet. His boots are gone, probably the only shoes I’ve ever seen him wear.
But there’s his Seahawks hat on the dresser. There’s a pack of Big Red gum next to it, the same kind he always chews when he mucks out the stalls. The bed is made, in a man kind of way.
I’m not sure what to think. He hasn’t completely packed up, but who’s to say he didn’t just pack up in such a hurry to get away from me that he forgot some things?
My insides are a bloody mess. An annoying, confused, ridiculous female mess. If I were looking at me from outside this situation, I’d hate myself. I’d be completely annoyed with me.
Just figure out what you want, woman.
It shouldn’t be so damn hard.
I sink down on to Lake’s bed and lay back on it. It smells like him. Mountains and water and wilderness.
What do I want?
I don’t even know how to start picking that apart.
I fell asleep in Lake’s bed. I woke up, found Kyle camped out on Lake’s couch, got showered and dressed, and the two of us went into town.
For the first time, I go to church without Mom. There isn’t any awkward moment where I look around, wondering where or with whom to sit. We walk in and Kyle’s mom waves us over. I sit next to Kyle just as the pastor starts.
For the majority of the meeting, I sit there with my eyes closed. I listen to some of the sermon, but mostly, I’m just searching for some inner peace. I’ve never been religious, I don’t really know how I feel about God and Jesus. So I can’t say that I’ve ever asked for anything through prayer.
But in that church, I ask for something simple.
I just want to feel peace.
The meeting comes to a close and people start filing out, talking and smiling and feeling happy and filled. Kyle looks at me as we stand, a small little smile on his face. He doesn’t say anything, and for that I’m grateful.
Eyes always watch the two of us whenever we get within five feet of each other. They watch, looking for signs that we’re back together. For the first five years after our divorce we avoided each other at all costs. But time heals pain and after a while we could talk to each other without feeling like we were going to die. Now we’re friends and the whole town thinks it’s their business to try and see if we’re a couple again.
We walk outside, the sun hot and bright. On the way out, Sheriff Akins says he’ll be coming by just after church to talk to me about my “situation.” Kyle’s parents stop to talk to him and his wife after. Kyle and I walk to the end of the sidewalk, just to the side of the road.
“You okay?” he finally asks. His hands are in the back pockets of his jeans. He never would wear Sunday best.
I shrug. Shake my head.
“Come here,” he says. He takes a step forward, closing the distance between us. He wraps his
arms around me, guiding my head to his shoulder. He hugs me tight. His strong arms are comforting. He rests his cheek on the top of my head.
“We’re going to take care of this Travis problem,” he says. “You’ll be safe. I promise.”
I ignore the prying looks we’re getting and just close my eyes. I block everything else out and just let myself be in this moment of acceptance.
“It’s okay to let yourself be happy,” Kyle finally says after a long time. “There’s more to life than just keeping it together, and making smart choices, and playing it safe. A life without passion is just a slow way to freeze to death.”
There it is. The exact description of how I’ve been feeling for so long now.
I’ve been slowly freezing to death.
I pull back so I can look up at his face. I place a hand on his cheek.
“Thank you for being there for me,” I say. “No one really understands what things are like. Living with your mistakes. But you do.”
He shrugs one shoulder. “We may have been divorced for nearly ten years now, but I still love you, Ry.”
And I know what he means. It isn’t the kind of love that is in love. But the kind of love where you accept people as they are. All their faults and shortcomings.
“I love you, too,” I say as he lets me go.
“Go be happy,” he says as he turns to leave.
I’ll try.
“Hey, Sweetie,” Mom says from the other line.
“Hi, Mom,” I reply back as I lie back on my bed. “How are things going?”
“They’re fine. Lynda and I just got back from church. It’s such a nice little congregation.”
“I just got back from church myself,” I tell her. That’ll make her proud. I do, however, leave out the part where I had that talk with the Sheriff. Where he said he’d be looking for Travis to talk to him. Where he said until they catch him on my property again, there isn’t much they can do. Where he in a roundabout way said if I felt my life was in danger, that I had a right to protect myself.
“That makes me glad to hear,” she says, and I can feel the smile in her voice. “How’s everyone doing?”
“Everybody’s fine. You know not much changes around here,” I say as I roll one of the ties on my quilt between my fingers.
“How true that is,” she chuckles. “How are things going at the ranch? Still flourishing?”
“Yeah,” I tell her. “I’ve got an eighty hour work week ahead of me. Things are good.”
“And how’s Lake?” she has to go and ask. “I haven’t talked to him in a few days. He always seems to be the one who answers when I call the office lately.”
I swallow hard and sit up. My eyes shift to my window, the one that looks out toward the barn. Still no truck. “He’s okay.”
“What’s that?” Mom says, but her voice sounds farther away, like she’s pulled the phone away from her face. “Oh, alright. I’m sorry, Riley, but I guess we have some people who’ve invited us over for dinner tonight. We’ve got to get going.”
“Okay,” I say. “Love you.”
“I love you, too.”
I hang up the phone and set it on my bed. I lie back down, resting on my side.
There are two pictures in frames on my night stand. One of me and my parents when I was about sixteen. I’m sitting on a horse, and they’re on either side of me. We’re all smiling and happy. I trace my finger of my father’s face, missing him so much.
When Dad was deployed, back forever ago when he was only in his twenties, he was in the middle of a war zone. There was an explosion. His body was peppered with shrapnel. They never got all of it out. There was a little piece stuck in the back of his head, in a place they couldn’t get it.
It sat there, harmless, for twenty years. Then one day it dislodged. And killed my dad.
The red, white, and blue runs through my veins, but it has a tendency of breaking my heart.
In the other picture frame is Cal. It was just after he asked me to marry him. I snapped the picture of him with my phone. He’s smiling, his eyes squinted small, like they did when he was truly happy.
I trace a finger over his face as well.
Be happy, Ry, Kyle had told me this morning.
Cal would have wanted me to be happy.
I try to tell myself that I don’t need to be happy again. That I got my chances, that I had enough happiness in those short times to be contented for forever. That was it for me. Cal would be waiting for me on the other side of this life.
I pull open the drawer of my nightstand and reach for the small black box at the back. My fingers close around the soft velvet, and I pull it out.
The hinges squeak as I open the box. My fingers close around the cold gold, and I pull the ring from the lining.
It’s a beautiful ring. A round cut diamond sits slightly off to the left side. Five smaller diamonds wrap partly around it before curling off onto the band. He had it custom made. I always thought it was a somewhat strange design, but it is gorgeous.
I slide it onto my finger. It’s loose. I’ve been working so hard lately and Mom hasn’t been around to keep any padding on my frame. I’ve dropped nearly ten pounds since she left, and I’m leaner than I’ve ever been in my life.
Keeping the ring on, I grab Cal’s picture again and hold it on my stomach.
“Do you want me run out my contract?” Cal had asked me just minutes before he proposed. “I’ve got nine more months of service left, and then it’s up.”
“How is that up to me?” I had asked. I was lying in his arms in the back of my truck, wrapped in a pile of blankets and pillows. We were parked in the middle of nowhere, stargazing.
“I was just wondering if you wanted me around for more than two months at a time,” he said, squeezing me tighter.
“You know the answer to that,” I said, leaning in and pressing my lips to his.
“That’s good,” he whispered. “Cause I want to stay home with you, for forever.”
He then reached into his pocket, brought out this black box, and asked me to marry him.
I pick up the box, pressing the lid to my nose. It used to smell like him. He’d carried it around in his pocket for at least a week before he worked up the nerve to ask me. But it doesn’t smell like anything now.
I start pulling the ring off, about to put it away, when I notice the lining of the box is poking up slightly.
My brows furrow together, I pull at it. It comes out easier than it should. A piece of folded up paper falls onto my stomach.
It’s a letter, addressed to me. And at the bottom is Cal’s name.
Hey Riley,
Of course I had hoped that you’d never, ever find this and have to read it, and because you are reading it, I’m really, really sorry. But because I know you, and because I love you, I have to write it.
I always wanted to serve my country, you know that. I knew the risks of being in the services. There’s always a risk. And if you are reading this, then I am a statistic of war.
I love you, Riley. I’ve loved you from the moment I saw you at my unwanted birthday party. And I have no doubt that you love me. If we had gotten married, we would have had a happy life. Sure, things wouldn’t have been perfect, and I’m sure there would have been days you would have called me an asshole and I would have called you a bitch. But we would have been happy. We would have loved each other for the rest of our days.
But, Angel, life changes. It throws us curveballs and sometimes rips the rug right out from under our feet. And that’s okay.
If you have to read this, I want you to know that it’s okay to move on. I thought about making some joke right here about asking you to not do it within the first few weeks of whatever might happen to me, but that’s just not you, and I know that’s not how it’s going to be. But it is okay. I know you love me, and I am a damn lucky man to have been loved as deeply as you did me. But it’s okay to feel that way about someone else at some point.
I need you to
be happy. I’ve seen a lot of terrible things come about because of people’s unhappiness. And I need you to be happy. Let yourself be happy.
I need you to promise me that you can let go.
I need you to promise me that you will live and be happy.
Love, always…forever,
Cal
Tears roll down my face, and my breath catches in my throat.
But still I whisper, “I promise.”
CHAPTER TWENTY
I need something to go right today.
It’s a Monday, which is bad enough, but considering everything else going on, it’s time for a triumph.
Dust billows around my boots as I step into the barn after lunch. I’ve already fed the horses, rotated them through the pasture, mucked out the stalls. The farrier will be by to shoe the first half of the horses this evening.
But right now, I will ride the Devil.
When I get to his stall with his halter and a lead line, he tosses his head and gives a little snort. I hold his eyes as I open the stall door and step inside.
He paws one hoof over the ground and backs away from me. It’s all for show though. We’ve made huge strides lately. I successfully got a bridle and saddle on him two weeks ago. All last week I worked on sitting on him just tied up to a hitching post. He didn’t particularly like it, but he tolerated it.
Today, I will get on his back and ride.
Sir Devil only shakes his head once as I slip his halter on. I clip the lead line under his chin, and we walk out to the hitching post next to the outdoor arena. I tie him up, get his tack, and saddle him up.
I’m a bit nervous, I will admit. Every time I did this last week, Lake was here and he held Sir Devil still while I got on and stayed on. It’s just me here this morning. By myself.
Random people kept dropping on me earlier today. The Sheriff, Julianna. Kyle has called a few times. But right now, I’m all alone.
I slip my foot into the stirrup and grab the horn. I pause here for a moment, gauging the beast’s level of crankiness. He looks back at me, his ears turned in my direction, but he stands still.
