I wait, pulse thudding. I’ve chased solutions for months—called Monty so many times he stopped sugarcoating the truth—but I should’ve known she’d find a way.
She always does, even when I don’t ask her to.
“Go on,” I say quietly.
“It will involve us working together permanently.” I close my eyes, dread settling over me. “Hear me out. I have resources that can help buy out the liens under the Carter name, because the longer we sit on it, the closer it gets to being accessible to Horizon.
All you have to do is agree to a permanent partnership, and we can save this place,” she explains, and I’m not sure what to say to that.
A permanent partnership means being attached to Sloane for the rest of my life—and beyond that.
The number of times we’ve fought comes flashing back to my mind, and she may claim she isn’t vindictive, but what if it gets to a point where she is? What if I end up being the vindictive one?
The thought scares me more than losing the land ever did.
There are too many questions racing through my head, but I’m not stupid either. I know this land is on borrowed time because of these liens, making every decision more stressful and painfully time sensitive.
I wish it weren’t the case, but the reality is that Sloane is offering to save this place, and it also means tying her to me for the rest of her life.
I don’t want to force her to be part of my life when all I’ve done is cause her grief. I don’t want to be the reason she’s tied to a ranch from all the way in Austin.
I want her to live the life she chooses. At the end of the day, I know my feelings for her have grown deeper than I care to admit out loud.
I want her to be happy, and loving her means letting her make the decision, even if it costs me a large piece of my own happiness.
Even if it leaves me standing here alone.
But I don’t say any of that.
I say nothing at all.
And I realize that saying nothing is just as bad as saying the wrong thing. She sighs deeply, nodding in defeat. My silence is all the confirmation she needs for me to let her walk away.
I watch as her face visibly shifts, as she blinks back tears and her bottom lip trembles. My heart aches as I watch her crumble, but I can’t be the one to make that decision for her. I can’t force those words out.
She turns on her heel and walks up the stairs, stopping at the door to face me one last time.
“You know, just once, I wish you’d choose your happiness. Not a legacy or a ranch you think you’re owed because your last name is on the sign—but your happiness,” she says before turning back to the door and walking inside.
I sigh deeply and press my head to the bed of my truck. I squeeze my eyes shut as I feel my own tears working their way up. Damn it, I haven’t cried in God knows how long, but she’s right.
I wish I’d choose my own happiness too.
Perhaps it’s time I finally do.
twenty-three
Sloane
Iwas sure this plan would work, and I was even more sure Gage would be behind it. I thought that because we’d finally learned how to work together, things would be different—even if there was no future for us.
Based on his lack of response, it feels like nothing matters to him right now—not even the ranch. I don’t understand what happened to him—or why he’s giving up so easily when this place is his whole damn life.
I want him to dig his heels in. I want him to choose us. But that’s too much to ask. I see that now.
The decision came easier once I accepted that if Gage wasn’t willing to hold the line for the ranch, then maybe I couldn’t save it the right way.
I textRoger and tell him I’m heading back to Austin. If he wants to meet at headquarters, we can sort out the details there.
