She nodded, and after a few strained seconds of silence, we began eating. I remained standing on the opposite side of the counter, not trusting myself to sit beside her and not want to inch closer to her. To purposefully knock my elbow against hers or brush my knee along her thigh. She didn’t need complicated right now, and well…I was complicated.
“So, what are you doing for work?” she asked after finishing her bite of garlic bread.
“Right now I’m helping Wyatt at his mechanic shop. Other than that, I’m working here and there on my parents’ ranch.”
“No more rodeo?”
I forced a breath. Forced the next words, too. “No more rodeo.”
She was quiet, like she expected me to go on. For her sake, for not feeling like I was hiding everything, I did. “It was time to call it quits. It’s dangerous, you know? I was lucky I got out with minimal injuries. Not everyone can say the same.”
Instantly, my throat tightened. I should’ve kept my fucking mouth shut, because she noticed the strain in my words and lifted her gaze to the side of my face.
I swallowed. Quietly tried to clear my throat. Sipped some water. “What about you? Any plans to go back to traveling and working on ranches after the baby comes?”
“Not really, no.” She set her fork down, the metal clanking against the ceramic bowl. “I was making money off social media for a bit, but I need something more stable.”
I finished the bite I’d taken while she spoke. “Like an influencer?”
She shrugged. Nodded. “Yeah. I post a lot about the western lifestyle and collab with brands. They pay me in return.”
I smirked, finally mustering the courage to look at her again. The tiny freckles that dotted the bridge of her nose seemed heightened under the golden glow of my kitchen lights. Her blonde curls were frizzy, likely from her nap, but that only made her more beautiful. More real. Like I could finally let go of being scared to blink for fear she’d disappear.
“So you’ve got fans, huh?” I teased.
She laughed, and I think my heart skipped a beat. “Something like that.”
Her eyes met mine, and we both froze. She searched my face, like she, too, was realizing I was actually here. In the flesh and in her presence.
It was fucking surreal, if I was being honest. Like being given a second chance after you’d accepted there was no hope.
“What?” Her voice was breathy.
I shook my head, my chest warming. But still, Icouldn’t look away from her. “I just never thought I’d hear that sound again.”
Those soft cheeks of hers tinged pink, and it was like the world stopped moving.
Parker Summerhill was back in Bell Buckle.
And I was going to find a way to keep her.
6
BECKHAM
The next day was yet another day where I had to remind myself to breathe. There wasn’t a sense of panic in me that closed my lungs, but rather a brick sitting on my chest, weighing down the natural urge in my brain to suck in air and let it loose.
At first, I’d thought I might’ve developed some type of asthma. Maybe a breathing disorder where I needed medication to get rid of this pinched feeling in my sternum. But no. It was simply my mind being so bogged down by things I can’t control that I forget to breathe deep enough.
Some days, it felt like I’d run a mile and couldn’t fill my lungs to their full capacity, and I’d be scared I was suffocating. Others, I didn’t breathe enough on instinct, so I’d have to remind myself over and over and over again.
I tried various exercises, but those didn’t do much. I was drunk one time and tried meditating. All I did was fallover. None of that shit worked because it wasn’t my lungs’ fault. It was my brain. I was so lost in the depression some days that not even my mind wanted to put effort into keeping myself alive. Those days, I had to work overtime.
I’d come to learn the world didn’t stop demanding things of you simply because your will to stay alive was dwindling.
Too wrapped up in tracking the rise and fall of my chest as I stowed the clean utensils in their rightful place, I didn’t hear Parker leave her room. For some reason, I’d expected her to disappear overnight. I’d gotten so used to only imagining her voice that hearing it in person was like a shock to my nervous system.
Maybe the depression had rotted my brain into pulp, and I was hallucinating.
