“Not survive,” I continue when they are quiet. “Not exist.Butlive. There’s a difference, and I didn’t understand it until you walked into my life as if you belonged there. I spent a long time breathing without air in my lungs. Smiling without feeling it. Waking up without any reason to care whether the sun rose or not. I thought that was it for me. All I deserved. A half-life. A quiet, colorless stretch of days I’d endure until they finally ran out. And then there was you…”
“Teagan, I—” My voice catches, and I pause, surveying the crowd again. “I can’t… I can’t do this without you seeing me. Without… you hearing me.”
“That was horrible,” I mutter, mostly to myself, unable to shake today’s run from my thoughts.
The clatter of hooves echoes through the arena. Daisy stutters around the second barrel, dragging her front hooves through the dirt. It’s not her fault. Not really. My mind has been everywhere but where it needed to be, twisting with a dozen things I can’t control—the heat, the crowd. Easton.
I grit my teeth, guiding Daisy through the last turn. Forcing my eyes forward, I keep Daisy moving. We cross the finish line, slow, uneven, the buzzer sounding in my ears like a verdict. I can barely bring myself to look at the board as I dismount. My boots hit the dirt without the familiar thud, nothing like the satisfaction it usually brings.Today, there’s no pride. Just exhaustion, frustration, and the empty ache of failure.
Knox walks back to the trailer with me and puts the ramp down for Daisy. She steps in without protest, tail flicking once, as if she knows this isn’t her fault, either. I follow behind, brushing the sweat from my forehead. Knox gives me a sympatheticlook and mutters, “Let’s get her secured. We need to get back to the arena anyway.”
I know he’s right, though it stings. I tie Daisy’s lead rope with extra care, triple-checking every knot and latch. She snorts once and stamps, impatient to be done with me. I give her a soft scratch on the neck and whisper, “You did fine, girl. My focus just… wandered.”
Knox shakes his head, stepping back toward his own horse. “Come on. We’ve got a bronco to watch before you lose your mind over a twenty-five-second run.”
We start walking toward the arena again, and the roar of the crowd carries across the parking lot before we even make it to the gate. It’s loud, but not just the usual excited buzz of spectators. There’s a voice, a man’s voice, muffled as it cuts through the noise.
I glance at Knox, his eyebrows raised in question. “Do you hear that?”
I swallow hard, nodding slowly. “Yeah… but, what is it?”
The voice booms again over the arena loudspeakers, growing clearer as we approach. “Actually… I have a lot of apologizing to do tonight. Not just for interrupting your night, but also for being an idiot. Most of all, I need to apologize to the woman who taught me how to live again?—”
I stop dead in my tracks, my heart thudding so hard I’m certain Knox can hear it. My stomach flips, and my legs feel like they’ve turned to lead. That voice…
“Easton…” I barely murmur.
“Not survive. Not exist. But live. There’s a difference, and I didn’t understand it until you walked into my life as if you belonged there. I spent a long time breathing without air in my lungs. Smiling without feeling it. Waking up without any reason to care whether the sun rose or not. I thought that was it for me. All I deserved. A half-life. A quiet, colorless stretch of days I’d endure until they finally ran out. And then there was you…”
The crowd is cheering wildly, unaware of the storm brewing inside me. I take a hesitant step forward, then another. My boots crunch over gravel and concrete. My heart is dragging me faster than my legs can carry me, pulling me into the arena itself. I weave between spectators, between the barriers, until I reach the barricade that separates the event floor from the stands. And then I see him.Easton. Standing in the middle of the arena, microphone in hand.
“Teagan. I—” He chokes on his words for a moment, jaw tightening, eyes wide and scanning the crowd. “I can’t… I can’t do this without you seeing me. Without… you hearing me.” Our eyes meet, and it’s like a thunderclap inside my chest. Time fractures, and all the noise disappears. Nothing exists except him.
“You didn’t ask permission. You didn’t tiptoe around the wreckage of a man I’d become. You just stood there, steady and unafraid, like you couldn’t see the broken pieces scattered at my feet. Or maybe you saw them and chose me anyway.”
A shiver runs up my spine, anticipation and fear curling in my stomach. I step closer to the railing, nervously wrapping my fingers around it until my knuckles go white.
“I know I hurt you. I know I let my fear make choices for me. And I know I don’t deserve your forgiveness just because I’m standing here with a microphone and a confession. But I needed you to know the truth. I was a coward, Teagan. I see that now. I should’ve told you sooner. I am so sorry for hurting you. I… I’ll never—ever—break your trust again. I can’t… I can’t bear the thought of losing you.”
The words come slower now, deliberate, as he walks across the arena. “I will spend the rest of my life earning back what I broke, if that’s what it takes. I will stand on your porch every night and apologize until you believe me. I will wait as long as you need, because you are worth every second of it.”
His hands grip the railing beneath as he looks up at me. His eyes lock on mine, and I see every second he’s missed, every mile between us, and every stupid, selfish decision condensed into one desperate look.
“You showed me that my heart was still capable of beating for something other than a memory. You’re the one I think about when my day begins. You’re the one I reach for in thedark. You’re the one my soul recognizes before my mind can catch up. I don’t want a life that doesn’t have you in it.”
I lean over the barricade, tears welling unbidden, streaming down my cheeks, and my lower lip trembling. A small, broken smile forms as the reality of him standing here finally hits me. My hands curl even tighter around the metal.
“You never asked me to be anything other than who I am. This is who I am. A man born from grief who was made to love you. And I do, wildfire. I love you. I’m sorry…” His voice falls to just above a whisper as he finishes, barely carrying over the arena noise.
I stare down at him, my heart pounding and voice nearly inaudible. “What did you say?”
“I’m sorry,” he repeats, more firmly this time, his eyes never leaving mine.
I shake my head, smiling through the tears. “No… before that.”
He swallows hard, takes a slow breath, and it’s like he’s finally releasing every ounce of tension he’s ever carried. “I love you, wildfire.”
My knees nearly buckle, and my tears stream freely as I whisper, “I love you, too, city boy.”
