She stops, but she doesn’t turn.
“I’m standing here choosing you, whether or not it makes any sense.” I let the words settle, heavy and true. “The only question is whether you’re brave enough to choose me back.”
Silence stretches. Her shoulders tremble. Her hand tightens on the doorframe.
Then she walks out.
I stand there long after she’s gone, listening to her move through the house. The bathroom door closes. The water runs. Drawers open and shut as she gathers her things.
Part of me wants to go after her. I should grab her and kiss her and make her see what she’s throwing away. But I’ve learned the hard way that you can’t make someone stay who’s determined to leave. You can only show them what they’d be leaving behind and hope it’s enough.
An old familiar wound scratches at my chest.Maybe this life isn’t enough for her.
I shake my head.Fuck.
Lucy’s going to be devastated. She’s already half in love with Eliza, already spinning fantasies about nail polish and having someone to talk to about girl things. She’s going to ask where Eliza went, and I’m going to have to explain her away as a visitor just passing through the ranch. My chest tightens.
Then the front door opens and closes.
I move to the window and watch Eliza walk down the drive. Her suitcase rolls behind her. Her phone is pressed to her ear. She doesn’t look back once. I watch her walk, and a calm rolls over me.
This isn’t over, it can't be.
I press my palm to the cold glass and make myself a promise. She can run back to California. She can bury herself in work and build her walls higher than ever. But I’ve seen the woman underneath all that armor.
I’ve held her. Tasted her. I heard her cry out my name like it was the only word she knew. She’s mine. She just doesn’t know it yet.
And I’m a patient man.
11
eliza
I pull out my phone and fire off a series of text messages to Danner.
I left the ranch, and I won’t be back. I’m not ready to do this.
I hope you come home at some point, but I understand why you’d want to stay.
I’ll call you tomorrow once I’m home.
Love you.
My phone vibrates with a response, but I don’t bother pulling it out. I can’t right now. I don’t have the brain space—I’m barely holding it together. I need to get off this ranch before I fall apart completely.
I walk as quickly as I can, only everything looks different without the snow falling. It takes me twenty minutes of dragging my suitcase across the grounds to get back where I started. I feel one hundred sets of eyes on me as I parade my suitcase across the gravel roads in the world’s longest walk of shame.
It takes all my resolve to keep my feet moving back toward reality. If I were sitting across from myself in my law office, I’d discount every emotion and look only at the facts. But there’s no amount of rationalizing that makes this hurt any less.
In the end, I make it to my rental car before the first tear slips behind my oversized black sunglasses. Not the airport. Not even the main road. Just the gravel parking lot where I left my SUV two days ago—back when I thought I was here to rescue my brother and nothing more. I don’t even recognize that version of me anymore.
My hand is on the door handle when I see them.
The Christmas lights.
Walker’s Christmas lights—the ones Lucy was so proud to show me—are glowing in the weak morning sun. They’re wrapped around the eaves of the Velvet Spur and outlining the big double doors. The crooked star on the lobby tree is visible through the window, tilting like it’s had a long year.
Perfect is boring,Lucy said.Maybe flawed is just another word for interesting.
