“Would it be weird to me if you had to take prescription medication for literally any other reason? No.” He jumps back onto the bed, pressing a super fast kiss to my forehead. “Just…I know I’m repeating myself by saying I’m here if you need to talk. And I also know you’ll ignore my offer, because you don’t like needing help from anybody. But I want to be the one you tell everything to. Your good news, bad news, anything, everything. I want to listen to whatever you’re willing to tell me.”
Releasing a deep breath, I close my eyes and whisper, “Okay, well, I’ve been taking these since I was eighteen…. I had my first major depressive episode right after the abortion.”
Denver
(eighteen years old)
When Mom died, we didn’t anticipate Dad disappearing in the middle of the night less than a week later. But he did.
With fucking impeccable timing, too. He ducked out right before we had to bring the herd home from grazing land, leaving my brothers and me to call in favors at damn near every ranch within an hour of ours. You don’t expect losing one man to have such a huge impact, but Grandpa died and Dad took over all the ranch operations, not bothering to teach any of us. So when he left, it meant my brothers and I were essentially handed a cattle ranch we had to learn how to operate from scratch. Austin didn’t sleep for at least a week straight—trying to wrap his mind around the ranch’s finances all night, then helping with chores all day. Jackson, Red, and I were working a minimum of fifteen hours daily.
Not to mention, Dad wasn’t around for the funeral. Thank God for Kate, who took care of pretty well everything. By the time the date came three weeks after Mom had died, I was so spent, I did nothing but hold tight to Blair’s arm and wait for the day to end. My mind erased every detail of that day, wiping the slate clean so I could jump back into cattle sorting the following morning.
I didn’t complain about all of this—not really—becauseit’s hard to think about the fact that your entire world has fallen apart in the past few months when you’re too tired to think at all. The work was a welcome distraction.
Blair and I hadn’t talked a lot, simply because of our busy schedules. While I was busting my ass at the ranch, she was trying to play catch-up from the week she spent with me after Mom died. She drove to Wells Canyon the night before the funeral, and back to Vancouver the morning after, so I didn’t even get time with her. Otherwise, we were surviving on the occasional text message, and a phone call once a week.
Despite all that, I assumed we were in a good place, until I got back to cell service just before dusk on a random weeknight and found a cell phone crammed full of missed calls from Blair.
I hung back, letting the rest of the guys get ahead on their horses, and called her.
“Hey, baby. I miss you,” she said softly, with a waver in her voice that told me she’d been crying.
“What’s going on?”
“I…well, um, I don’t really—” Her breathing was short and snappy. Gasping.
“Take a breath, Bear. Are you okay?”
“Please promise me you aren’t going to freak out or be mad or anything. Okay?”
My stomach twisted, preparing for the worst possible scenario. And to be honest, I was so exhausted, I couldn’t even begin to picture what that scenario might be.
“Please,” she pleaded against my silence.
“Okay, I promise.”
“Denver…I—fuck—I’m…” Her words trailed off as the tears made it too hard for her to talk between heaving sobs.
“Are you—” I took a second to clear the lump in my throat before letting the words fly out at high speed, hardly taking a breath while I spoke. “Are you breaking up with me? I’m sorryI’ve been so busy, and I haven’t been able to come visit you, or even call very often. But I love you more than—”
“Oh my God, no. That’s not what’s happening here. I’m pregnant.”
It’s a small miracle I didn’t fall off my horse, but—fuck me—I gripped the saddle horn for dear life. My eyes instantly glazed over, covering the hills around me in a disorienting fog.
“Blair,shit.Okay…when are you coming home?”
“I can’t. I just took time off school for your mom, so I can’t.” The air was silent for a long while, then she quietly added, “I had an appointment at the school clinic today to confirm it. I didn’t want to stress you out when I took the test yesterday, in case it was wrong.”
“Baby, you should’ve called. Okay, so…you’ll be home for Christmas in two weeks, right? The day after your last exam?” My brain spun in circles in an attempt to figure out a way to see her sooner.
“Um…I already scheduled my appointment at the hospital for right after I finish exams. So I might be coming home a couple days later than I thought.”
My stomach flopped around like a dying fish. “Wait, why?”
“Denver…” Her voice dropped, thick with emotion. “I can’t keep this baby.”
I could’ve thrown up. Don’t know how I didn’t, honestly. Instead, I let my horse slowly bring us home—couldn’t even find the wherewithal to hold the reins. “Well, don’t you think we should discuss this?”
