I blurt out before I can stop myself, "Well, that's the worst thing I ever heard."
Her eyes widen. "Don't tell me you're going to say something to my family?"
"No, of course not," I assure her.
"Then why would you say that?"
"I mean, if he told your family… I don't know. It just seems silly that we hid all those years," I state.
She reminds me, "I said we could come clean numerous times."
I close my eyes and take a deep breath, my insides shaking.
"Yeah, I remember. I was too big of a coward, though," I confess.
She puts the pen down and pushes for answers I'm sure have been plaguing her for years. "Why is that? What were you so scared of?"
"Well, that's a loaded question, sugar," I tease.
Her expression doesn't break, demanding answers from me.
Another lump forms in my throat. I clear it and sit taller. I reveal, "I didn't have anything to offer you."
"What are you talking about?" she asks.
"What was I going to do? Go up to your dad and say,'I want to marry your daughter, but I have no money. I've spent it all on stupid stuff'?"
Her eyes widen. She inhales sharply.
"Why do you look shocked?" I question.
"Marry me?" she whispers.
Anxiety and nerves overpower my stomach. I put my hand over hers. "Did you not think that's what I always wanted? How could you not? You were my life. The only other thing I had was bull riding. I wanted to marry you back then, and you're still the only woman I can ever envision committing my life to."
Her lip trembles, and she blinks hard. She manages to get out, "It's in the past. If you wanted that, you would've done it."
I insist, "Willow, it wasn't that easy."
"Why? Why wasn't it easy?" she demands.
"For one, you were in high school still," I point out.
Her eyes turn to slits, and she angrily says, "I was graduating. You were twenty-one. I was eighteen. We could have done anything. I could have gone with you. But you didn't want me there. Did you?"
"I told you I had to live in the bunkhouse," I remind her.
"It doesn't matter, Wyatt. I could have gone with you. If you had stayed for more than a second, we could have figured it out. But instead, the minute I told you I might be pregnant, you ran as far away from me as possible." A tear drips down her cheek, and she swipes at it.
Guilt bombards me. I open my mouth, but nothing comes out.
She looks away and shakes her head. Voice cracking, she quietly states, "I don't want to keep going through this, Wyatt. The past is the past."
I assert, "The hardest thing I ever did was leave you. Even though we got into that big fight, I could barely get in the truck and leave."
"Yet you did! You left and didn't call for over a month!" she accuses, her eyes red with rage and hurt.
A storm brews inside my chest. I confess, "I didn't know what to say. I thought it would be best to focus on work and let you cool down."
