Thankfully it was mostly just bills that had already been paid, along with a few unopened bills that would need to be taken care of. I spent several hours getting everything separated, and I’d work on sorting it all this afternoon. It didn’t make sense to pay by check in this day and age, so I’d have to see if he’d give me access to his bank account so I could set up bill pay. I pulled open the top drawer on the right-hand side of the desk and found a bunch of office supplies and stamps and more checkbooks. I pulled everything out and started cleaning it up.
The left-hand side had some drawers, so I moved all the files into them and labeled them to make things easier to find.
The large drawer on the bottom-right-hand side was locked, and I realized the key I’d found in the top drawer probably opened it. I tried the key, and sure enough, it pulled open. My eyes widened when I saw the framed picture of me and Axel at my first eventing competition when I was fifteen years old. It was the photo I’d given him for Christmas that year. He was holding up my medal in the picture, and I was beaming up at him with a big smile on my face. My finger traced over the dusty frame, and I startled when a teardrop landed on the glass and I realized it had come from me. I sniffed a few times and wiped my eyes as I set the photo down on the desk, and I sighed when I saw the article on top of the pile of newspaper clippings that were piled in the drawer as well:Wren Waterston and Her Favorite Thoroughbred Take the World Championships by Storm.
I placed a hand over my heart to ease the ache that resided there.
Wrax.
I rifled through the pile to see that he’d kept every single clipping from my competitions over the last two years. One loose photo had slipped to the bottom of the drawer, and I picked it up. It was a snapshot of me sitting on Wrax at the world championships a few months ago in North Carolina.
How did he have a photo of me there?
Had someone sent it to him?
I pulled out another article from just three months ago, showing me down on the ground after taking a bad fall:Traumatic High-Speed Fall for Olympic Hopeful Wren Waterstone and Her Veteran Horse.
I’d walked away with a fractured wrist and collarbone, a few broken ribs, and a nasty concussion. I studied the photo of me and Wrax beneath the headline, both of us down on the ground.
That’s when all the doubt had started setting in for the people who were supposed to support me through the ups and downs.
I quickly tucked everything back in the drawer and locked it before setting the key down on the desk.
This was a drawer that I didn’t need to organize or look at.
I’d lived it.
I’d lived it on my own.
It wasn’t lost on me that I’d achieved so many things that I’d set out to do over the last two years—yet that was, without a doubt, the loneliest time of my life.
I walked out to the warehouse and saw Axel working on the body of a new trailer. He was standing back and admiring it like a piece of art. He was one of the most talented people I’d ever known. The way he could draw up his designs and then bring them to life with his hands had always impressed me. And even though he’d hurt me and we weren’t friends anymore, it didn’t make him any less talented.
I ran my finger over the small tattoo on my inner wrist, because it always soothed me.
In a heartbeat.
I’d learned that life truly could change that quickly.
I walked closer to where he was working and noticed the peanut butter and jelly sandwich sitting on a paper plate on the workbench beside him. How many times had we packed sandwiches just like that to take out riding with us over the years?
I pushed away any moments of nostalgia that I was feeling.
He’d betrayed me and hurt me in a way I’d never expected.
I cleared my throat, and he looked up at me. It shouldn’t have hurt me that I could see how guarded he was around me, but it did.
It surprised me that he’d reacted this way after all this time. I’d expected him to show some remorse for ruining our friendship at the very least. I was the one who’d had to come bega guy who’d stabbed me in the back for a job. And he was the one acting wounded?
“I wanted to see if you were comfortable giving me access to the bank account? It makes more sense to get these bills set up on bill pay, so you won’t need to send checks out by mail. And that way, the next person you hire will be able to easily pick up with the billing system, and you won’t need to be panicked. You can just give them access to pay bills, but not access to the account.”
“That was quick. I thought you were giving me three months. But you’re already on your way out, and it’s barely lunchtime.” His lips were in a straight line, letting me know that he was completely unamused with me.
“I’m planning to honor my contract and stay for three months, but I’m just saying, I will be able to pass the baton easily if things are set up correctly.”
My doctor had insisted I take a break from competing for a few months—not that it mattered, because without Wrax, I had no desire to ride at all.
“All right. Do you want me to write the information down?” he asked.
