“By late afternoon. It’s a bit of a drive.” He smiles at me and leans down to kiss me on the cheek. “I’ll see you for dinner tonight.”
I nod, unable to get myself to verbally lie to him. But I can’t resist sitting up and tugging him towards me. I kiss him deeply, trying to infuse it with everything I feel for him.
“You’re making it really difficult to leave, Win,” he growls. He kisses me again, his lips parting mine for an instant, and then he pulls away. “But if I bail on my dad, he’ll never let me hear the end of it.”
“That’s okay.” I stroke his hair back from his forehead. It’s another one of the things I love about him, how good of a son he is. How dedicated he is to those he cares about. “Have a good time, and say hi to your parents for me.”
I know that his parents will likely hate me after what I’m about to do. I didn’t expect that part of this to hurt so much. I didn’t expect that I’d start to love Jonah’s family as well. Meg is going to be so disappointed in me.
Jonah leaves the room and after a few minutes, I hear him start the Jeep and pull out of the driveway. As soon as he’s gone, I fling the covers off and leap out of bed. I have a lot to do.
I start by telephoning every taxi company in Bozeman until I find one that is available to come here and pick me up in a few hours. It’s going to cost me an arm and a leg, but it will be worth it. I can’t ask Candice or anyone else to drive me because they’ll just try and talk me out of this. I know that leaving without saying goodbye is going to hurt everyone at the rescue, and Candice especially. But I can’t risk it.
I just hope that they’ll forgive me eventually. Jonah, too. And Rosie. I won’t be able to say goodbye to the horse that was quickly becoming mine, and it makes my heart ache. We’d come so far together—from anxious, nervous messes to being able to stand firm and tall on our own. I was supposed to have more lessons on her this week. I had plans to learn how to trot and canter, to trail ride, and possibly try out some barrel racing.
I rub my face, and try to swallow down the tears that rise to the surface. But for once, I fail at pretending everything is okay. I fail at pushing down my emotions and smiling. And I guessit doesn’t matter. I’m all alone. There’s no one here I need to pretend to be happy or strong for.
So as I pack my bags, I let myself cry. I cry for the woman I’ve become over these last few months. I’m prouder of her than I thought was possible. I came to Star Mountain broken and unsure of who I was, and the weeks and months here healed me. Jonah was a large part of it but it was also Candice and Jenny and everyone else at the barn. The horses. The town.
I also cry for Jonah. For the heartbreak I’ll be leaving him with. For the love I have to leave behind.
And I cry out of fear too. Fear of going back to my parents’ house. Fear of what they’re going to want me to do now that they have me back. I have no plans of staying forever. I’ll keep the rest of my trust fund safe from them, and won’t let them access it no matter how much they pressure me. I’ll get out when I can. Even if it’s years in the future. They’ll forget about Jonah eventually, I tell myself.
I finish zipping up my suitcases, which barely close. I get dressed, wearing jeans and my pink boots—a small sign of rebellion against my mother. One that she’s sure to take exception to but I can’t get myself to care. I need to do this with a bit of myself intact.
Then, I sit down at the kitchen table with a sheet of paper and a pen. With shaking hands, I write Jonah a letter, and pray that it will be enough.
43
JONAH
The first thingI notice when I get home from seeing my dad is that the house is dark and even the Christmas lights are off. I was out later than I thought I would be, as it took us a while to get all the wood put away into the garage, and I stayed and chatted with my mom a bit afterwards. Maybe Winnie went to the Wilson’s for dinner.
I unlock the door, and flick on the lights. It’s cold, like she hasn’t been home for hours. I wander into the bedroom and my heart stops. The closet doors are open, and the shelves and rails are bare. The nightstand is empty, too. Gone are her skincare products and jewelry, her piles of scarves and brightly colored sweaters. Her collection of jeans. Her pink boots.
My first thought is that someone kidnapped her. But as I race into the kitchen, a white piece of paper on the dining table catches my eyes, and I realize how irrational that thought is. If someone kidnapped her they wouldn’t have packed up all her clothing.
I don’t have to open the paper to know what it says.
She left.
Still, I unfold it, my hands shaking.
The words knock me a step back, and I’m forced to sit down.
Dear Jonah,
The first thing I need you to know is that I love you. The second thing is that I never wanted to leave. I wanted to be married to you forever.
But if I don’t divorce you and go back to Alabama with my parents, they’re going to drag your name through the mud. They threatened to spin lies about how we got married. They’ll say you coerced me and took advantage of me for money—that you abused me. They’ll drag your family into it, too.
I can’t let them do that. Not when it could ruin your music career before it even starts, and not when your family finally has some space to heal after your mom’s cancer.
I know you’ll be angry with me for doing this. I know you’ll think I should have stayed and that we could have fought them together. But I can’t ask you to do anymore for me than you already have. I can’t ask you to risk your career, and your family’s happiness and peace, just for me.
You’ve protected me enough.
It’s time that I protected you.
