HESTIA
Lottie’s cabin was beautiful.
Like a snapshot of her relationship with Cole, it was clearly built with so much care and love that the whole place sang with it, from the kitchen, paint matched to Lottie’s favourite shade of pale, powder blue-grey, to the wraparound deck complete with a hand-made rocking chair – yet another gift from Cole.
‘Hestia,’ Bailey called, walking over as Cole lifted Lottie’s case into the back of his truck, scooping her up into a kiss before she could climb in. ‘I forgot to say. One of the guys at the Livingston Peak rodeo, Bill, he’s an old friend of mine. If you need extra help getting round the back near the chutes, or if Jesse doesn’t pick up, try him.’
I nodded, exhaling.
‘You all right, cowpoke?’ she asked, checking under the brim of my hat.
‘Yeah, I guess. I just want to get there, you know?’
The truth was that nerves had churned up my guts since I’d woken up at 5 a.m. with jet lag kicking in, my body clock rejecting the time difference. The only thing that had calmed it was heading down to the barn, a walk so ingrained in my subconscious that I knew each step before I’d made it, heading straight for Luci’s stall. Her greeting had been as sweet and heart-healing as ever; she had searched my pockets for treats and been rewarded with an apple I’d brought from the kitchen. I’d brushed her down, a fine haze of her fire-red hairs drifting across the shafts of sunlight that glanced across the wall, her head resting against my back.
‘Know what I do before a competition, when all the stress kicks in and I’m wondering if I’ve got the stomach for it?’ Bailey said, smiling as I looked up at her in hope. ‘Either distract myself by talking about shit that has nothing to do with rodeo, something totally different. Or, maybe when you get closer, just focus on visualizing the thing you want. For me, that’s racing over the line, everything feeling just right, hearing my time and knowing I’ve made it into first. For you . . . well. Whatever you want that to be.’
But as Lottie and I waved goodbye to them both and got onto the highway heading north, I just couldn’t picture it. I couldn’t see how I would get Jesse to trust me again, especially in terms of what he thought Cal and I had done. Hadn’t I told him often enough how fucked up I was, told him I’d moved away to protect him from it?
‘You want to listen to some music?’ Lottie asked. Her voice was light, but I could hear the concern leaking through from underneath.
‘Sure,’ I said, shifting into a more comfortable position. ‘But distract me, please, before my brain takes me over the fucking edge.’
She paused for a moment, selecting a radio station and keeping it on low.
‘Cal’s not all bad, is he?’ she said, smiling as I turned to her, incredulous.
‘What? Where didthatcome from?’ I asked, trying to make sense of how she’d landed there.
‘You said distract you, and I am,’ she continued, a familiar glint in her eye as she turned back to the road. ‘But he’s not actually a bad guy, is he?’
I blinked, simultaneously wondering what she was up to, but suddenly plunged back into the complexity of his chaos, our chaos.
‘No,’ I said slowly, thinking of how we’d left things – the lack of animosity, in the end, despite everything. ‘He’s not. It’s us, as a couple. Together we’re toxic. We always were, I think.’
Lottie shot me a sympathetic look.
‘I don’t know, the early days were pretty good, right?’ she replied. ‘The ones at uni, anyway. He was always a bit of a loose cannon, but you guys had fun together, I remember it.’
I nodded, suddenly smiling as I remembered one particular night out where Cal had commandeered a battle of the bands night at the student union bar, belting out Linkin Park bangers and dragging me up on stage with him. Together we’d screamed at the crowd and they’d joined in, eventually blowing one of the speakers.
‘Yeah, we had some good times,’ I admitted. ‘Although I guess . . . with context, and what I know now . . . what they should look like, what love actually feels like . . . It just wasn’t healthy.’
I stopped, my mind drifting back to Jesse again.
Lottie bit her lip, glancing at me briefly.
‘What?’ I said, curiosity thoroughly awoken. ‘What’s happened?’
She shook her head to dismiss it, but as she smiled, I knew she wasn’t going to tell me. Yet.
‘Nothing,’ she said. ‘I was just thinking about that time both of our parents came to visit in second year – remember? How we decided exactly what wedidn’twant from a relationship after that.’
I almost winced, remembering all too well. My stepfather’s barely withheld disdain as he met Cal; the disappointment in my mum’s face as she took in my building tattoo sleeve; the way Cal had looped his arm around my shoulders at dinner.
‘Did I tell you what my mum said to me after that visit?’ I asked quietly, suspecting I’d hidden it away at the time – ashamed to admit just how broken my family was, not thinking anyone would understand.
‘I don’t think so,’ she replied, real concern winding through her expression now.
