“Why the fuck did you need to know!?” I fire back, “If you weren’t so determined to mess with me, you wouldn’t have said anything in the first place.”
He scrubs at the back of his neck. “Shit, I’msorry, bro.”
I grunt and shake my head. “Just keep your mouth closed, yeah?”
“Got it.” He mimics closing a zip over his lips and throwing away the key. “Are you two like… ya know?”
“I don’t know,” I open the door, the chilly mountain air sweeping in through the house.
“I’m happy for you,” Remy says, stepping out onto the porch, “Even if the way you started was all the way fucked up.”
“Shut up.” I shake my head.
“Well, it was,” He shrugs, “Like I knew you had a stick up your ass, bro, but a contract to get married!?” His laugh is boisterous. “Can’t believe pops would do that though.”
“Yeah, me neither.” I move to close the door. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”
Once he’s out of sight, I completely shut and lock the door, returning to the living room where Niamh is perusing the bookshelf tucked into the corner. I doubt there’s anything of interest there for her, it’s all books on agriculture and town history, a collection my mom started back when she was still alive. She’d often curl up in the chair right by the fireplace, a book in her lap and a hot chocolate resting on the arm.
“Are you okay?” I pause at the couch, leaning against it to watch her.
“I want to be,” She flicks her blue eyes to me, “Some days are harder than others, and then some days, I think I’m okay and then feel like I’ve been hit by a truck.”
“It takes time,” I assure her. “There is no rush.”
She nods gently, “I guess.”
Dropping her hand from the weathered spines, she turns to me and then closes the gap, coming to a stop in front of me, an inch between us. She looks over my face with an intensity she’s never shown before. “You’ve made it easier.” She whispers.
My throat works on a swallow, and I force myself to keep still so I don’t reach for her.
“I tried to pretend you didn’t, but tonight made me realize I had been lying to myself. And part of me feels guilty for letting myself feel something other than sadness, but I also know my dad would turn in his grave if he knew how the last year has been for me.”
“Life isn’t meant to be easy, sweetheart.” My fingers curl into the palms of my hands. “It’s meant to be messy. Unpredictable.”
Her eyes drop to my lips. “Thank you.”
“What for?”
“Making me feel something more.”
The world stops spinning for a moment as she presses up onto her toes and then so fucking gently, as soft as the whisper of a butterfly wing, presses her lips to the corner of my mouth.
The kiss is chaste, but it lasts. I still feel the tingle of it long after she’s left the room.
Chapter 23
I take my coffee out onto the porch the following morning. It’s still early, and the sun has barely risen, so I drag a blanket with me to curl up on the hanging chair. Horses are already being moved out into the pastures, so many of them I lost count after the seventeenth one. Roman is out there too. I catch glimpses of him on the back of Pippin, despite his still very broken ribs.
Every now and then, he looks toward me, his eyes under the shadow of his hat, and each time my stomach does this weird little somersault.
Too easy.
Too easy would it be to fall into him, to lose myself in him. To let him take everything that feels entirely tooheavy on my shoulders. But I am scared, and no amount of repeating my father’s words helps.
I’ve never been in love; I’ve never even looked for it. It hurts though, that much I know. I saw my dad after mom took off. I see Linda with her husband and how much pain it’s causing, knowing he’s ill and will one day leave her.
Say you need me.
