To kiss you because it feels like I might lose my mind if I don’t.
Arden, my Sunflower, please, be brave.
Your Cowboy
As I fold up the letter, I look out my window at the inky black sky, the stars twinkling like they’re giggling at how much I’m pinning on this letter. No big deal, it just feels like my entire future and the woman I’ve fallen in love with is hanging in the balance.
Tomorrow, when I wake up before the sun, I’ll sneak into town and drop the letter into her mailbox. Hopefully, she’ll come to me. I’ve waited this long and can wait for a little while longer.
CHAPTER 10
ARDEN
I’ve felt off all day and I don’t like it. I know why I feel this way. It’s all because of how things ended with Ford last night. It was beyond awkward and I’m a little embarrassed about how I acted.
I’m the one who insisted about our dates being friend dates.
While unlocking the front door, I scoff at the notion. Friend. Okay. Mom is working the night shift right now which means she’s probably sleeping for a little while longer. Her sleep schedule means we don’t see each other much when she’s working nights. We definitely rarely eat together.
When our schedules are a little better aligned, we see a lot more of each other.
Considering the crisis I’m navigating, one I’m the architect of,I’m glad I don’t have to face her tonight. I can crawl into bed and wallow in the self-pity I’ve been trying to ignore all day.
Why did I even think he was going to kiss me?
Friends.
I insisted we’re friends. Those words came out of my mouth. Even if they felt like a lie and tasted like ash. After dropping my keys on the table, I notice the small pile of mail and pick it up. If mom got to it first, there won’t be a bill I can slip away from the stack. When I get to the last envelope, I pause. It just has my name on it.
No stamp.
Arden Mathis
That’s it.
My hands start to shake, my body knowing the truth before I’m willing to admit it to myself. As much as I want to rip open the envelope, it feels like going too fast will break this moment’s fragile existence.
Because I can’t be holding a letter from Ford.
Maybe it’s just a coincidence. It was awkward last night between us. He had to feel it too. This could be his way of reaching out, one he’s more comfortable with.
Okay, keep telling yourself lies.
I hold myself perfectly still as I read Ford’s words. His handwriting stands up and is straight forward, without any fuss. Kind of like the man.
But his words?
They’re beautiful. Not complicated. Honest.
Achingly so.
Arden, my Sunflower, please, be brave.
Your Cowboy
Those words hit me right in the middle of my chest. I race over them again and again; they pick up steam. Even when my eyes slam shut, the words remain, challenging me, begging me.
I can hear it; those words he’s whispering to me.
