“I told myself it was different this time,” he says. “That you weren’t going to do what Laney did. That you actually wanted to be here, wanted this life, wanted—” He turns to face me, and the pain in his eyes makes my chest cave in. “But you’ve had one foot out the door the whole time, haven’t you? You were just waiting for something better to come along.”
“That’s not fair.”
“From where I’m standing, it looks exactly like that. It looks like you were keeping your options open, stringing me along while you decided if Copper Creek was good enough for you. If I was good enough for you.”
“That’s not what I was doing.”
“Then what were you doing?” he demands. “Because I’d really love to understand how someone who supposedly cares about me could hide something this big for two weeks.”
“I was scared,” I blurt. “I was terrified, Wyatt. Because this job offer is everything I was raised to want. Everything my mother spent her whole life preparing me for. And turning it down means admitting that everything she believed, everything she taught me, was wrong. It means choosing a life that doesn’t make sense on paper, has no guarantees, that requires me to trust something I’ve never trusted before.”
“Trust what?”
“That I’m enough. That this whole thing is enough. That I can build a life here without screwing it up.”
He’s quiet for a moment, his jaw tight. “And what have you decided? Are you taking the job?”
“I don’t know.”
“You don’t know?” He laughs, but there’s no humor in it. “You’ve had two weeks, Eleanor. Two weeks to think about it, and you still… don’t know.”
“It’s not that simple.”
“It is that simple. Either you want this life, or you don’t. Either you want us, or you don’t.” He crosses his arms. “I told you from the beginning I don’t do casual. I can’t give my heart to someone who’s gonna leave. And you said you understood. You said you were falling for me. You said, ‘I’m in it.’”
“I meant all of it.”
“Then how can you not know? How can you stand there and tell me you’re still deciding whether to move to another continent?”
I don’t have an answer, because he’s right. If I really wanted this, if I really wanted him, the choice should be obvious. So why isn’t it?
“I think you should go,” he says quietly.
“Wyatt—”
“I need space, Eleanor. Time to think. And you?” He shakes his head. “You need to make a decision. A real decision. Not because of me or the bar or anyone else. You need to figure out what you actually want.”
“And if I choose to stay?”
“Well, then we’ll talk. But right now…” He shakes his head again. “Right now, I can’t look at you without seeing two weeks of lies. And I need that to stop hurting before I can think clearly.”
I stand there for a moment, wanting to argue, explain, make him understand. But I can’t, because he’s not wrong. And even I don’t understand. I kept it from him. I lied. And no explanation will change that.
“I’m so sorry,” I say, “for not telling you sooner.”
“I know you are.”
But he doesn’t say it’s okay, because it’s not.
I pick up my purse and walk out the door. I pause at the threshold.
“I do love you,” I say without turning around. “I know I’ve never said it before, but I do. I just don’t know if that’s enough.”
I don’t wait for a response. I just walk to my car and drive away, leaving him standing in the door of his cabin.
CHAPTER 19
The drive back to The Rusty Spur is a blur. I’m crying, and it’s the ugly crying, with the gasping sobs that make it hard to see the road. I have to pull over twice to wipe my eyes, catch my breath, and stop my hands from shaking.
