No pressure.
No expectations.
Just the sound of the horses shifting, the occasional snort, the steady rhythm of breathing, and the quiet weight of something we can’t fix but don’t have to carry alone.
One beer turns into two, then three for them, while I stop at one, already knowing I’ll have to drive back.
Time loses shape as we sit beside Jude.
And then, finally…
“I used to call or text him every week. I can’t anymore.”
Jude’s voice cuts through the quiet, flat and hollow.
My chest tightens.
“Yeah,” I say softly. “That part sucks too. I’m so sorry, Jude.”
Because I know. God, I know how that feels.
The silence that follows is different. Heavier, but real.
I lift my almost empty beer bottle slightly, staring into the faint light flickering through the stable.
“Fuck death.”
For a second, neither of them moves.
Then Dex lifts his bottle and clinks it against mine.
“Fuck cancer.”
We both look at Jude.
After a pause, he lifts his own beer.
“Fuck young people dying.”
He taps his bottle against ours.
And we drink to that.
CHAPTER 26
Alexis
A week has passed since that first kiss, and Mason stayed with us for two days, crashing on the couch like he belonged there all along.
I loved having him here. The apartment felt fuller somehow, lighter, and the way he and Dex clicked so easily still surprises me. They’ve been texting and calling ever since, like they’ve known each other longer than a handful of days.
It does something to me, seeing that. The way Dex, and the Hawthornes, didn’t hesitate, didn’t question it, just folded Mason into their lives like family. Like that’s simply who they are.
It’s Friday, and Dex gave us both the day off. Somehow, he managed to call in an old waitress to cover the weekend just so he could take me out on what he called a proper date. His words, not mine.
I still don’t know where he’s taking me. The only thing he told me is that we’re going on his bike, so I dress for that. Jeans that hug just right, a soft pink top with fringes along theshoulders that catch the light when I move, tiny flecks of glitter woven through the fabric like it’s holding onto pieces of sunset.
I throw my leather jacket over it, worn and familiar, and pull on my boots to match. My bangs are braided back, simple and out of my face, and I keep my makeup light. Nothing too much. Just enough.
