"That must've been exhausting," Paisley says.
"It was. But I loved her, so I didn't care. I would've done anything for her." I look up at Paisley, needing her to understand. "Anything. It's why we started spending so much time out here. She loved it out here."
Her voice is gentle when she asks the next question. "What happened the day she died?"
I flinch at the question, but I force myself to answer. "I came home from work early. Wanted to surprise her, maybe take her out to dinner. When I walked in, the house was too quiet. I called her name, but she didn't answer."
My hands are shaking now, and Paisley holds them tighter.
"I found her on our back deck. Like I said before, she'd hanged herself. Where she loved to watch sunsets." The words are coming faster now, like if I don't get them all out, I never will. "There was a note on the nightstand that I found later that night. Just three words. I'm so sorry."
"Oh, Chase."
"I called 911, tried CPR, did everything I could. But it was too late. She was already gone." The sobs are violent now, shaking my whole body. "I held her until the paramedics came. Kept begging her to come back, to please not leave me. But she was gone, and there was nothing I could do about it."
Paisley pulls me into her arms, and I bury my face against her shoulder, letting out years of grief I've kept bottled up. She holds me, one hand rubbing my back, the other in my hair, and she doesn't say anything. Just lets me cry.
When I can finally speak again, my voice is hoarse. "After she died, I didn't know how I was going to survive. I sat with a gun in my hand so many nights, a bottle of scotch in front of me, trying to work up the courage to join her."
Paisley tenses, but doesn't pull away.
"But I couldn't do it. Couldn't pull the trigger. So I lived. If you can call it that. Sold our house, moved out here, took the job as a livestock agent, and tried to forget. Tried to bury it all so deep that it couldn't hurt anymore."
"Did it work?" She asks raking her fingers through my hair, lightly scratching my scalp.
"For a while. I threw myself into work, into taking care of this land. I convinced myself I was okay, that I'd moved on. But I hadn't. I was just... existing. Going through the motions." I pull back to look at her. "Until I pulled you out of that car."
Her eyes are shining with tears.
"You turned my life upside down, Paisley. Made me feel things I swore I'd never feel again. Made me want to live instead of just survive." I cup her face in my hands. "When you asked about Cara Leigh, it freaked me out. I haven't talked about her in six years. Haven't even said her name. It felt like if I told you, if I let it out, it would break something inside me that I couldn't put back together."
"And has it?" she asks.
I think about that. About how raw I feel right now, how exposed. But also, how lighter. Like a weight I've been carrying for six years has finally been lifted.
"No," I say. "It hasn't broken me. If anything, I think it's started to heal something."
She smiles through her tears. "Good."
"I need you to know something." I take a deep breath. "I was holding onto the hurt to protect myself. If I didn't let anyone in, they couldn't leave me like Cara Leigh did. But it's been hell these last few weeks, not being close to you. Feeling this distance between us."
"I know. I felt it too."
"I love you, Paisley." The words come easier this time. "I love you, and I want you to stay. After the spring thaw, when you could leave if you wanted to, I want you to stay here. With me. Build a life with me."
"Are you sure?" Her voice is small, vulnerable. "Are you sure you're ready to move on?"
"I'll always carry Cara Leigh with me. She was a part of my life, and I can't just forget her. But I don't want to live in the past anymore." I press my forehead against hers, kissing whatever part of her skin I can find. "I want a future. With you."
"I want that too," she whispers. "I want to stay and build a life with you."
I kiss her then, pouring everything I feel into it. All the love and gratitude and hope I have for what we could be together. She kisses me back with the same intensity, her hands in my hair, her body pressed against mine.
When we finally break apart, we're both breathing hard.
"Thank you," I tell her. "For not giving up on me. For pushing me to face this."
"Thank you for letting me in."
