Eventually, we walked out of the barn holding hands, and we went into the house for some lunch. I cooked for him, if sandwiches counted, and he helped me finish up a few more things around the farm that had to get done that day.
I didn’t bring up the fact that he’d said he loved me, but I couldn’t stop thinking about it. My heart kept telling me to say it back, but my brain kept saying it would be a mistake. I hadn’t wanted him to tell me, feeling it was cruel. It would just make the wound deeper when he left. That was why I didn’t want to say it back.
We talked as we worked, but not about love specifically. Neither of us wanted to face that head on, so we talked around it.
“I would never forgive myself if I didn’t at least ask,” Carter said, walking at my side through the chicken house. “Could you ever consider moving to Los Angeles?”
“It’s a beautiful idea but it can never happen.”
“You wouldn’t have to give up the farm,” he added quickly. “We could find someone to manage it.”
“I don’t want someone else to manage it,” I said simply. “This farm is my baby, and I’ll never give it up willingly.”
Carter nodded, understanding. “That’s the answer I expected. But like I said, I had to ask.”
“You could stay,” I said. “I could lock you in my basement and never let you leave.”
Carter grinned, remembering what he’d said to me when I saved him from the rain. “I thought you said tools like me go in the shed.”
I shrugged. “You’ve graduated from shed to basement.”
“I’m honored.” He shook his head and looked up at the uncaring sky. “But I have a business to run too. I could visit you, though.”
I nodded and swallowed the bitter taste in my mouth. “You could… but it wouldn’t be enough. Not for me.”
He sighed. “So what are we doing?”
“We’re saying goodbye.”
“I can stay in town for a few more days before I get a vote of no confidence from the Allory board,” he said. “We can make the most of it.”
We cleaned up and we cooked dinner together. Carter wasn’t much of a chef but he followed instructions well enough to make the mashed potatoes. I cooked a couple of steaks in my cast iron pan, which used to belong to my grandmother.
The food was amazing, and it was made infinitely better with Carter’s company. But every time I started feeling happy, I remembered this couldn’t last, and I got sad again. I tried to compartmentalize my feelings, keeping the sadness in a box while trying to enjoy myself with Carter in the short amount of time we had left together. It was a bit of a mixed bag.
After dinner, we crawled into bed and cuddled up together. That led to sex, which led to more cuddling. A deep note of despair chimed inside me as we lay beside one another.
“Carter, if this is ending, I can’t do this for another few days,” I said, not looking up at him. “It’s too much for me. I think it’s best if this is our last night together.”
Carter was silent but his galloping heartbeat filled my ear. He rubbed his hand up and down my back. “If that’s what you want.”
“I think it will be easier to have a clean break like that,” I said.
“Okay, sure. I understand.”
“Please be gone before I wake up,” I told him. “I can’t say goodbye. I’ll literally die.”
Carter pulled me closer and I wrapped my body around his, wanting to feel close to him even as I was pushing him away. “If you think that’s best,” he said quietly.
He kissed the top of my head. I cried myself to sleep on his chest.
In the morning, I woke up alone.
CHAPTER 32
CARTER
Breakfast at Honeyrose that morning was a depressing affair, although only for me. Other lodgers had been trickling in over the week, and now Mrs. Presley’s breakfast table was full of life. She was in her element, serving food from all kinds of platters. Eggs, pancakes, bacon, and sausage links. Also toast, bagels, and muffins, with butter, cream cheese, and jam. She told me all the baked goods came from a nearby bakery, but she had cooked the rest. All of it was amazing, but to me, it tasted like ashes.
