I dropped my head to my chest and took a few deep breaths, willing the fresh air to fill my lungs as I drew in a shaky breath.
I straightened and paced a few steps away along the edge of the plaza. Thankfully, most of the shops hadn’t opened yet, and there weren’t many people around to witness my crash-out. I needed to rein myself in.
This wasn’t personal, I needed to keep telling myself.
Even if it felt painfully personal.
After everything we’d been through together. After the way we’d…dammit.
It wasn’t about what we’d shared together. It couldn’t be about that.
Even if it felt like it was.
No. I’d shown her the problems with the proposal. The way it would impact the forest and the animals. She’d asked questions. Good ones. She’d listened, and I could have sworn she’d understood my point. That she’d understoodme.
Shit.It was way too personal.
I ran my hands through my hair and tugged hard at the roots. I couldn’t help but think of that asshole she’d been about to marry. The way he’d talked to her, the way he’d treated her like part of the deal. Nothing more than a means to an end.
And somehow, even knowing all of that, Jess was still willing to move forward with the very thing Trevor cared most about.
Because it sure as hell wasn’t her.
He didn’t care about her like I—fuck.
I kicked a stone, sending it skittering across the bricks, but it wasn’t enough. I wanted to punch something, rage against all of it, unleash the frustration that was brewing and threatening to consume me.
Summit barked, the puppy running alongside me, looking for attention. Instantly, I felt bad.
“Sorry, buddy.” I bent to scratch his ears. “I didn’t mean to scare you. I just?—”
“Preston?”
I turned at the voice to see Chase watching me. Before I straightened, I blew out a breath in an effort to pull myself together.
“You okay?” he asked when I turned to face him.
“Do I look okay?”
He stepped closer, coming to a stop beside me. “No.” He shook his head. “You seem a bit…”
“Upset?”
“I was going to say passionate.” Chase chuckled a little. “I know that wasn’t what you were hoping to hear,” he continued. “But she made her decision. You don’t have to agree with it, but you do need to respect it.”
“Do I?” I spat out and instantly regretted it. I was being an ass, and that wasn’t fair. “Sorry,” I added.
He nodded, as if he understood all the nuances of what Iwas feeling when he couldn’t possibly understand just how personal it all was.
“She’s not wrong,” he said after a moment. “Thereareways to make it work.”
“That’s not the point,” I said, some of the anger fading away.
“And what exactlyisthe point, Pres? Because I thought that’s exactly what we were trying to accomplish here.”
I opened my mouth and closed it again, because how exactly was I supposed to explain to him that it wasn’t about the development, the proposal, or rerouted trails? Not anymore.
I’d stood beside her when she needed me most, and that felt a whole hell of a lot bigger than I wanted to admit. It was hard to feel like she’d reached for me in her time of need and then walked right past me when it mattered.
