“You did what you needed to do for you. I can always respect that. But believe me when I say that it hurt.”
Still does.
“And I appreciate your apology.”
All that time, I knew how I felt. Violet ruined me. She took the deepest parts of me and ran like a thief in the night. Like what we had never mattered. Like our connection wasn’t bone deep and stone strong.
But I knew she was hurting too, and that made it impossible to be angry with her. She picked her family over me, and while that hurt, I knew it wasn’t an easy choice.
She was still hurting now. She wouldn’t have been standing there in front of me, begging my forgiveness if shewasn’t. And I couldn’t bear hurting Violet. I opened my arms. “Come here.”
She stepped into me, and the echoes of every hug surged through me again.
And the one time she didn’t hug me.
I loved her. I loved her and there she was, the feel and smell of her the same. She grew. I grew.
Choppy breaths shook through her. “I’m so sorry, Colt.”
“I know, baby.”
It slipped off my tongue before I had a chance to take it back. But instead of resisting, she squeezed me harder. I wrapped her tighter in my arms, resting my cheek on top of her wet hair.
“It’s okay now.”
“It’s not,” she said on a hiccup. “You were good to me and I was so harsh when I left. You were the best, and I acted like you weren’t. I cut you off.”
The best. Hope flared again, like the flash of a spinning lighthouse that hits you head on, then fades. Did she still think I was the best? Was this the beginning of a new chapter for us?
“We were young,” I said. “We didn’t know how to fight fair.”
“There’s no referee in relationships. No five for fighting. No sin bin.” Her voice was warbled, but I couldn’t help but laugh. She was cracking jokes, even in her pain.
I stroked my hand down her hair and chuckled. “You remembered hockey rules well enough to make a joke. I’m touched.”
“Well, I kinda went to a lot of games. I do have a knack for remembering things.” She stilled in my arms, but I continued passing my fingers through her damp hair. She whimpered again, sounding like she was suppressing a sob. “I remember everything, Colt.”
I swallowed around the golf ball in my throat and nodded. “Me too.” Violet’s sob spilled out and I kissed the top of her head. “Don’t cry over me, Vi. I’m just a lowly peasant.”
She laughed and we stepped apart. She wiped under her eyes and sniffed. “Still on that joke, huh?”
“What? You come from Rhode Island coastal elites. Sturdy stock. I’m just a farm boy.”
She popped my arm and laughed again. “You’re so stupid.”
“I know. That’s why you shouldn’t cry over me.”
The laugh settled between us. It would be normal for her to go back to her room, to go to bed because it was late. But there had to be a reason we both lingered.
“Well, we buried a hatchet. You wanna stick around? We could,” I shuffled through the snacks in the minibar, “I don’t know, eat garbage?”
She considered my offer. A smile slowly curved her lips. “I . . . would love to eat garbage with you.”
“Just admitthat you’re not a dog person.”
Violet’s eyes bulged as she prepared to argue back. Her mouth was full of the feast we ordered from room service. Once she cleared her bite, she spoke. “I am a dog person! Your parents’ dogs were just insane!”
“They’re farm dogs. What do you expect? A perfect lap around the show ring? They’re used to herding sheep. Working dogs, Vi.”
