Hunter
Early May
Mollsissad.Ican’t say I blame her.
I’ve been debating texting Theo more. I’ve also been debating whether I should swing by the diner and talk to Luca. If Theo is still talking to him, maybe I didn’t ruin anything.
The whole interaction in the barn that day has played nonstop in my head since it happened. I can’t stop thinking about the way his voice cracked, about the way his eyes welled up and spilled over. The hurt and desolation in his voice nearly took me to my knees.
I wanted to go after him, stop him from leaving. I couldn’t. Not because I didn’t want to,but because it was clear I was the last person he wanted to talk to. I don’t blame him for that. I just wish I had done things differently.
After dismounting, I lead Molls to her stall before untacking her and hanging her saddle by the door.
Grabbing the brush from the hook, I step up beside her, holding my hand out so she can boop my palm.
I start brushing her coat. It’s second nature, routine, and it keeps me calm, grounded.
“Do you think I should text him?”
Molls sniffs, her ears twitching.
Super helpful.
Seems she doesn’t really care what I do as long as I keep brushing her.
My thoughts go back to Theo. They always do when I’m in here, which is a real shame because this barn used to be my peace. Being with Molls was my peace. Now it’s just a reminder of all the ways I fucked up.
When I’m done brushing Molls, I leave her to go into the feed room.
When I slip through the door, Molls lets out an excited nicker. She knows she’s getting a treat, and she’s fully convinced I won’t disappoint her. To be fair, I haven’t before. Wish I had that same streak with people—with Theo.
Opening the dented lid to the bin, I reach in, grabbing two alfalfa cubes before shutting it and heading back to Molls.
She’s got her head over the railing, ears pricked and neck outstretched, and I smile despite myself.
Her lips brush my palm as I hold it out to her, and just like I half expected, she takes them both at once.
I laugh, rolling my eyes. “Greedy girl.”
I watch her for a while, waiting until she’s got them both chewed before taking my phone out and snapping a quick photo of her. She’s always so pretty after being brushed.
Before I can think too hard about it, I send the photo to Theo and shove my phone back into my pocket.
By the time I’ve finished my chores for the morning, I’m sweating. It’s getting warmer, and even the morning air is sticky and gross. Wiping my brow with my forearm, I sigh, then head into the house after kicking my boots off on the porch.
We have a guest today. An older woman who’s traveling across the state to visit her new grandson. She’s here for today and tonight and is leaving tomorrow morning, but she’s been nice company for Mom. They’re talking in the kitchen when I walk inside, so instead of bothering them, I go upstairs and slip into my bedroom.
I’ve been putting off looking at my phone, mostly because I’m worried that Theo has left me on read, or worse, not looked at my message at all. But when I slide it out of my pocket and sit down on the edge of my bed with it, I see he has—not only once, but twice.
My heart skips a beat as I tap on the notification. The two messages were sent forty-five minutes apart, and the last one came in just a few minutes ago.
Theo
Oh what a pretty girl. I miss her so much.
How are you?
Something inside me settles a little. Not just because he texted me back, but because he asked how I am. He made a choice to text later on when he didn’t hear from me.
