“Why did you come back, Lythie?” A little voice spoke next to Blythe. Addie was desperately concerned over the reason that neither she nor Chris wanted to give.
“I just missed you, that’s all…” She knew no one would buy thatlame assexcuse. But she threw it out there and crossed her fingers.
“Did you fight with Justin?” Evie was staring at her with doe eyes the size of Jupiter.
“Now why on earth would you think that?” Blythe knew she was low-key gaslighting everyone at the table.
“Why don’t you two drop your dishes in the sink and head upstairs so I can talk to Blythe alone, please?”
Addie and Evie were always obedient when their dad spoke, especially when it was in the serious tone he was using right now.
When they disappeared up to the second floor, Chris folded his arms over his chest and raised an eyebrow at her. “Why are you such a liar?”
She turned to face her uncle, her defenses rising to the surface and showing every bit on her face. “What? You think I should’ve told them the truth?”
“Why not? I’d think you, of all people, wouldn’t be okay with liars?”
“Oh, so breaking their hearts is better? Is that what you’re saying?” Blythe’s eyes narrowed at her uncle, challenging him to prove her wrong.
“Well, seems like breakin’ hearts isn’t an exclusive sport for men in Chicago. I guess cowgirls can pick up skills and bring ‘em home, too.” Chris stood, taking his plate with him and placing it in the sink with the others. He tucked in his chair and left Blythe alone, still sitting at the table with her own pissed off thoughts.
She was shocked at his lack of empathy for her. Chris had always been concerned about her feelings. Such a hard stance suddenly felt like it was coming out of left field. She knew she messed up. She knew it was her. She knew she had to fucking fix it, but she was lost on how to do a damn thing about it.
THREE DAYS LATER
The crematory called and told her that Bear’s remains were ready. She sent a reminder through the calendar app she sharedwith Justin to set all of his appointments, and posted the time he’d be able to pick them up.
She felt guilty not going with him. Who would be there to hold him if he needed it? Definitely not the person who left him in pieces after his best friend died, that’s for sure. Definitely not the one who needed therapy herself. Definitely not the one who couldn’t say sorry… Or if she was giving herself the benefit of the doubt—the one who didn’t know how.
She yanked the string on the lawn mower and heard the motor come to life as the gasoline started bubbling inside its little tank. The men usually took care of that chore, but she got to it first. With the loud noise of the machine, maybe she’d be able to drown out the chaos in her mind.
Ope. How’s that avoidance tactic going for you, girl?
She silenced the voice in her head, and hoped Justin was okay. She wished she could be there, holding his hand and reassuring him that everything would be alright.
Every night when she went to bed, and every morning when she woke up, she felt another crack form and another piece of her heart break. Her feelings were still muddled, but she was putting the puzzle pieces together.
When she drove out of the city and headed toward her safe haven there in Montana, she didn’t feel shattered at all. She felt anger, hatred, and a whole lot of frustration for what she’d done and gone through. She’d been pissed, but never shattered…never pieces of her heart crumbling at her feet and turning to ash right in front of her.
Back then, she’d felt hope. She’d seen a new life on the horizon, just over the next hill.
From where she was standing right now, all she could see was hopelessness. She wasn't going to be able to unload all of her baggage in time to save herself, and no one was going to do it for her.
Her back pocket was vibrating. It was probably a client calling to schedule an appointment. Blythe pulled out her phone and answered the call.
“Forge Farrier Co., how can I help you today?”
She set a date and time in the calendar app, so Justin could see all of his appointments in real time. It’d been ten days since she stormed out of his house and told him not to come after her. He’d respected that, even though she knew he was most likely chewing off his own hand every night, fighting the urge to call or text. Maybe he was getting updates from Chris? Sounded like something those two would do.
She finished brushing Fred, the only male horse in the barn, and put her tools away. She found brushing the horses at the end of every day calmed her soul and made both her and the horses feel better.
“It’s been almost two weeks, Lythie.”
The sun was setting and Chris was sauntering into the barn, just as she was walking out. His tone was a bit stern. He was like a parent to her, after all.
“I know it has. What about it?”
“Have you reached out? Talked to him at all? The man loves you, Blythe. What’s your endgame?”
