I meet his gaze, holding back the tears burning at the back of my eyes. He will not see me break. “Before you were injured, when you were at the top of your game, if someone had come to you and told you that you could run a ranch in your spare time, would you have said, ‘Sure, sounds great,’ or would you havesaid, ‘No way, there’s no time for both’?” I take a step closer, my voice trembling. “Because there isn’t time, Dylan. This is an all-or-nothing life. So do us both a favor and admit you made a mistake. Sell the horses and go back to your real life, because I’m done here.”
I think Dylan will argue. Tell me I’m wrong. Beg me to stay. But he doesn’t. He stays silent, irritation rippling from him with the same force as my own.
That silence is the final answer I need. I turn on my heels and stride away. Down the stairs, through the kitchen. Out of the back door, across the driveway. Into my trailer. Only when the door is closed and locked do I lean against the wall and let the first sob shudder through my body. Then the next and the next.
Tears blur my vision. I trusted him. I let myself believe this was different, that he was different. How could I have been so stupid? I should have known better. I should have kept my walls up, should have protected myself, protected Madison. But instead, I let myself fall. Not just for this life on Oakwood Ranch, but for Dylan too. I opened myself for him. Let him in. And now it’s all slipping through my fingers like it was never real to begin with.
Fucked up again, Iz!
I bite the inside of my cheek. I cannot keep messing up my life. I have to think about Madison. It’s that thought that forces me forward. I move on autopilot, opening cupboards, throwing clothes for both of us into bags. I’ll get my trailer moved next week, but for now, I just need a few things.And then I need off this ranch.
For one gut-wrenching moment, I think about waking up tomorrow in a place that isn’t Oakwood Ranch. This isn’t just about leaving Dylan. Fresh tears spill down my cheeks, the pain of all I’m leaving behind.I think about not being the one to feedQuicksilver. I think about not being here for the horses I love as much as the work.
The guilt is fierce, but I swallow it back and fire off a message to Travis, asking him to take on more hours and days. Dylan can sort out the finer details with him, but I won’t leave without making sure these horses will be cared for. Until Dylan can find a buyer for them, anyway.
I pull my shoulders back and wipe my tears. Mad has to be my focus right now. My parents were right—Madison needs more than this. I shove the last of my things into the suitcase. Dylan hasn’t been the only one to make mistakes and pretend this is working.
My six weeks are up. It’s time to move on.
THIRTY-SEVEN
DYLAN
As the alarm drags me into consciousness, I find myself reaching instinctively for Izzy. Wanting to pull her close, feel her skin against mine.Except she’s not here. It’s been two weeks since our fight. Two weeks since she left the ranch. But I can’t stop reaching for her.
The argument replays over and over in my head. She didn’t even give me a chance to explain. Football was everything to me. Surely she can see that. Surely I get one goddamn minute to consider if there’s a way to have both—the ranch and football. The offer from Coach Allen… it’s big. Not just a slot on the coaching team, but a pathway to take over from him one day. A future in football again. Don’t I get to even think about that?
I groan and turn onto my back. However much I might be frustrated with the way Izzy reacted, I can’t really blame her. Mama told me about the offer days before that night. I should’ve said something. But when I’m with Izzy, it’s like something slots into place. Like I’m not a man with shattered dreams or a past I can’t rewrite—but someone with a future. Something I can build.
Still, she left. Packed up and disappeared like none of it meant anything to her. Like the long nights in my bed, the tension, the heat, the connection I thought we had—meantnothing. Like Oakwood Ranch and these horses meant nothing. That part stings in a way I didn’t expect. Because if she could walk away so easily, maybe I was the only one who thought this was something real.
I drag myself out of bed, throw on my clothes, and push a hand through my hair before heading downstairs. The smell of coffee draws me into the kitchen. Mama’s already dressed for the day in business slacks and a crisp blouse, packing her laptop into her bag.
“Morning, Dylan. Sleep OK?” she asks, eyeing me like she already knows the answer.
“Fine,” I reply, stepping to the counter and pouring myself a coffee. “You heading out somewhere?” I ask.
“New York. I told you yesterday.” She raises a concerned eyebrow.
I nod, remembering something about a sports brand that wants Jake and Chase to appear together in an ad. “Right. The ad thing.”
“We’ll be back late tonight.”
“You want a ride to the airport?”
She shakes her head. “Jake will be here any second. He wants to drop Buck off anyway.”
There’s a pause. Heavy with meaning. The same one that’s been hanging between us since she got back from Florida. The unspoken question: What am I going to do about Coach Allen’s offer? About the ranch?
Coach told me to stop by his office before the season started if I wanted to have a conversation about a future with the Stormhawks. Two weeks have slipped away and I haven’t gone. The truth is, I can’t think about it, and yet it’s all I do think about.
The ranch isn’t the same without Izzy, but there’s something solid here. I know these horses now. The way Logan won’t eatunless you talk to him. How Willow noses the latch of the gate when she wants out. The way Fury’s ears no longer pin back the moment I step into his paddock. And Quicksilver? He’s taken to the lead rein like a pro. Sometimes, when I’m working with him, I catch myself imagining more—converting the patch of back scrubland into an actual training arena. Installing a round pen for lunge rope work for when the foals are old enough. Then I pull back because those thoughts sound like the thoughts of a rancher and I haven’t decided anything yet.
Outside, an engine rumbles. Jake’s here.
“Season starts this weekend,” Mama pushes, like I don’t already know.
“Yeah, I know,” I mutter.
