“I hope I like the second option better.”
“Prove her wrong.” He drops the words like a challenge. “She’s been hurt before? Who hasn’t. Don’t hurt her. Show her what it feels like to be the center of your world. She doesn’t trust you? Earn it. Give her all the time and space she needs, but don’t give up. If she’s worth it, you’ll put in the work. And if it’s meant to be, she’ll come around.”
He makes it sound so simple.
“What if I do all that and she still won’t give me a chance?”
He shrugs. “You walk away knowing you did everything you could.”
“She could break my heart.”Could?She already has.
“Real love does that.”
When Ryan’s ex left, the light in his eyes went out for years. It wasn’t until Val came back that he truly started living again. Am I destined to years of self-torment just because I went and fell in love with Rosalie Masters?
I sigh. “How do you get over it?”
“You just do.” He puts his gloves back on. “Because the alternative is giving up. And as shitty as you feel right now, and as pointless as the future seems, there are brighter days ahead. I promise. Real love does that, too.”
23
ROSALIE
It’s beena week since my secret sabbatical on the Wilder Ranch, and everything is back to normal. I have my routine. Work. Lunch at the diner. Afternoons and evenings at home with Edward. A few hours before bed with my book and a glass of wine. Sleep and repeat.
My days are predictable.
The only men in my life are fictional.
Jackson hasn’t tried to contact me once.
It’s as if last week never happened, and I should be happy. I should be relieved. But instead, I’m fucking miserable, and it’s all Jackson Wilder’s fault.
I can’t get him out of my mind, and believe me, I’ve tried. Each day after clocking out of work, I have to keep my car from turning toward the ranch. Every night when I’m alone in bed, I have to stop myself from remembering his voice, his touch, his scent. With each book I read, I picture him as the hero—regardless of how the author describes the leading man. My mind must be broken because I can’t conjure anyone but him.
Even though I don’t want to, I miss him.
I miss him more than I have a right to.
But I have to push through this. I have to re-engage with my regular routines so the memories of him fade, just like they did when we hooked up a year ago.
Which is why I am forcing myself to leave the house tonight and meet up with my friends for our weekly gathering. I love book club, but half the members are related to the man I’m trying to forget. To make matters worse, this week’s meeting is being held at Val and Ryan’s house, just a short drive from Jackson’s cabin on the family’s property.
I’m hyperaware of my surroundings as I pass under the Wilder Valley branded archway and enter the ranch. I can’t decide whether I’m hoping to cross paths with Jackson or dreading the possibility. Maybe both. Anxiety tightens my grip on the steering wheel as I turn toward Val’s.
I pull up and park behind the row of vehicles lining the long driveway, and find myself looking for a certain someone. Which is ridiculous! He won’t be here. He has no reason to be. And he won’t be looking for me, not after the way I pushed him away.
Everyone is already gathered on the screened porch, conversation and laughter spilling out as I walk toward the house. The sound eases my nerves. I can do this. Everything is fine. No one knows about the mess inside my head. No one knows about Jackson and me.
“Rosalie! So good to see you.” Val comes over to give me a hug as I join the group. “We missed you!”
I step out of her embrace, appreciative of her warm welcome.
“It’s good to be back.”
“How was your vacation?” Bernadette comes closer, a fancy cocktail in hand and a wide smile on her face. “I haven’t been to San Diego in years. I need to get back for a visit.”
“Yeah.” Maeve joins our little circle and her brows lift as she directs her stare in my direction. “How was yourvacation?”
