I nodded. Sad how it had ended. “Working for him had been my dream. He’s one of the best horse racing trainers in the business, but the realitywasn’t quite as fulfilling.”
“Why?” he snapped. “Aside from Dreamy, what the fuck happened over there?”
“Nothing.” His knuckles went white as he gripped the counter tighter. “I was the only female groom amongst an established group of male grooms, and they ostracized me from day one. I was isolated and Declan made me feel seen.”
“And you married him?”
It was a fact, and it felt stupid now. I was so alone and sad that his empty charm fooled me.
“He showered me with compliments, gave me time, talked to me and basically charmed me out of my panties.” Wilder’s nostrils flared, but I carried on. “When he proposed after only three months of dating I said yes. And it was like he changed overnight. He became controlling, overbearing and generally dislikeable.
“How the hell did he control you, Brownie? Did he hurt you in any way?” He pushed off the counter and took three long strides. His hand fisted at his sides, gripping onto his temper. “If he did, I’ll fucking end him.”
“He didn’t,” I insisted. “He wouldn’t dare. And I know marrying him in the first place was stupid, but I’m not so much of an idiot to stay with someone violent.”
Taking a sip of my coffee, the bitterness clung to my tongue, strong, scalding, and just sharp enough to keep me grounded as I watched the log he’d placed catch. Flames curling up its sides like fingers, amber heat licking toward the chimney, the crackle sounding far too peaceful for the storm between us. From the outside looking in, the scene would appear normal. A man and a woman chatting in front of the fire. Both drinking coffee while they discussed their day and maybe what to have for dinner. It wasn’t that, though. It was anything but that. It was two people dancing around unjustified anger because all they were to each other was sex.
“What did he do?” Broad shoulders heaved as long lashes shuttered the mahogany colored windows to his soul. Beseeching and concerned.
I took a seat on the small sofa, curling my legs under me, and looked up at him. He was so different to Declan, and not just in his stature. Taller, broader, stronger. His darkhair with golden hints of the sun, always on the point of needing to be trimmed, fell into his eyes and I could see the boy he used to be. Handsome with a cute, crooked grin that charmed the girls. The perennial joker who hid his own grief in case it made him seem weak.
“He used to tell me how to wear my hair, what to eat, and suggested I had a baby to make my life seem worthwhile. He had this way of making everything sound like he cared. ‘Tallulah, you’d look much prettier if…’ ‘Tallulah, successful women don’t…’, ‘Tallulah, people will take you more seriously if…’.
Told me my opinions didn’t matter, that I didn’t understand the ‘real world’ of racing. Made me question every instinct I had.” My voice cracked. “By the end, I didn’t trust myself to make any decisions. Even stealing Dreamy felt like maybe I was wrong, that I was being too emotional like he always said. I stopped recognizing myself in the mirror. Stopped trusting my own voice.”
A fire of disbelief burned behind his eyes. “Tell me you’re joking. About the baby thing at least.”
“No.” The air thinned as I recalled the feelings of being trapped. Like I was suffocating. My marriage was like a pillow over my face, with Declan pushing down on it. “He said it would give me purpose. Of course I didn’t agree. I knew already that I wasn’t staying in the marriage. The final straw was Dreamy.”
“Dreamy?” Wilder dropped down onto the winged armchair that he was far too big for. It had been my Grandma's, my dad’s mom, and I’d always loved it. When I came here my brother brought it over in his truck. Funny because I’d never taken it to Kentucky with me. Never considered it.
“He was Dreamy’s jockey and was on him when he lost it in the starting gate.”
“Figures he’s a jockey since he’s so damn short,” he muttered. “Was it his fault? That Dreamy lost it.”
“I don’t know, but he didn’t help the situation. He used his whip on him.” My throat tightened and my pulse drummed rapidly at the memory of watching it all play out from a distance. The pain and anxiety at seeing my beautiful boy struggling with whatever it was scaring him. “Dreamy wasbucking and frothing and Declan did nothing to help him. He kept using his whip and forcing him into the gate when it was clear that was his greatest fear.”
“Bastard.” Wilder’s grip tightened on his mug. “What happened after you got him back to the yard?”
That was the final nail in the coffin of my marriage. “Bernard locked him in his stall, even closing the top half of the stable door, and told me under no circumstances was I to let him out. Declan backed him up and said it was the only way for Dreamy to learn.” I recalled the black days where I begged for him to be allowed out. “It was an awful time and Declan was…” I twisted my lips to one side contemplating what exactly Declan was. “He was hateful and told me not to interfere in something I knew nothing about.”
“And so, you stole him.” The soft smile made my stomach flip like I was on a roller coaster. It was full of admiration, and I basked in its light. Wilder always brought fun and joy to any room entered, but when his attention was centered on you it was like being bathed in sunshine. Warm and tender and sometimes it made it difficult to remember it was just sex between us.
“I stole him and left Declan divorce papers on his nightstand.” It sounded nonchalant because that was how I felt about it. I was stupid to have married him in the first place. Stupid, lonely and naïve. Now I had no feelings about it other than it happened, and I couldn’t change the past. All I could do was make sure the future was better. “I left and swore I’d never let anyone make me doubt myself again.”
Wilder breathed in slowly, eyes assessing, his stare making my skin heated. Wondering what he was thinking because we never spoke about the deep stuff. What our day had been like, what did we eat for dinner, what sexual position we were going to try that night. Never what he was thinking. Him talking about his mom had only been that one time.
“He gone?”
“I hope so, but with him I have no idea.”
Standing he walked to me, his stride loose limbs and casual. Reaching out he cupped my chin. Mahogany flecked with amber considered me, full lips tipping up at the edges.
“I know you can handle it, but he comes back, and you need me, I’mhere. Okay?” Leaning down he gave me a soft kiss at the corner of my mouth. “I have game night to get to, but I’ll come back later.” He raised an eyebrow in question.
“Yeah,” I breathed out, hugging my mug to my chest. “I’ll be here.”
He was silent as he washed his mug, left it on the drainer and then walked out, only pausing to scratch the top of my head with his fingertips.
