Of course I am.
It’s hard to sleep when your secrets detonate like landmines over the dinner table and your entire identity is currently being rented out to a man who thinks you’re a musically gifted eco-warrior.
The door to our room creaked open sometime after midnight.I didn’t move, just lay there, still as a corpse, while Dylan tiptoed in, opened and closed the bathroom door, then climbed into bed beside me.His arm wrapped over my waist, familiar and gentle, and he curled up like he knew exactly who he was sleeping next to.
It almost broke me to not pull away.To not create the space I so desperately needed.
But if distance is my currency, control is my religion.When I’m stripped down to the bone, those two things are all I have left.
So, I stayed still, pretending I was asleep while drowning in the shame of all the things I was not.
Now, I slide out from under Dylan’s arm as carefully as I can, grabthe first shirt, pair of shorts and shoes I can find, and ease out the door before I overthink it.
The sky hasn’t committed to morning yet, but the station’s already humming as I walk down the path that leads away from the cabins.A couple of stock hands are saddling horses, tossing hay bales onto the tray of a ute.Radios crackle.Boots stomp.Dogs bark in the distance.
It’s clear they all belong.Everyone has a place, a rhythm, a job to do.No email reminders.No peak hour commute.No filters.Just purpose and dust and sun-split mornings.
‘Hey.’
I spin.
And there he is.Holding the reins of the horse he’s leading like it’s another extension of him, like the universe birthed him out of the dirt.
‘Hey,’ I say back, quieter than I’d intended.
Luke eyes me warily.‘I see chaos still follows you around.’
I roll my eyes, so I don’t have to meet his ridiculous blue gaze.‘You didn’t have to be such a dick to Dylan at dinner.’
‘Says the girl who stormed out.’
‘You were being rude.’
‘You don’t get to play the victim here, Jamie.’
I clench my jaw.‘Why are you even here?’
‘I could ask you the same thing.’
‘Ella invited me.’
‘Should’ve guessed.’
The air is thick between us, the tension taut and stupidly charged.
I fold my arms, more to keep my heart from falling out of my chest than anything else.I don’t want to feel anything for this man.But God help me, it feels like my heart is cracking open anyway.
Luke shifts a little closer – one step – and it feels like gravity bending.Then, his voice is a scalpel.‘When were you going to tell me about the pregnancy?’
Everything stills.
‘What?’The word is barely air.
He steps forward slowly, eyes like shards of ice.‘You thought I wouldn’t find out?’
My stomach drops so fast I feel sick.‘Who told you?’When he doesn’t answer, I square my shoulders.‘It wasn’t your choice, Luke.’
His jaw tightens.‘Of course it wasn’t.None of this was ever my choice.’
