Page 88 of Hats off to Love

Eventually the canter slows to a walk. I know he’s there, and he knows I know, too. I wasn’t expecting to see him yet, thought this conversation would take place later at his house and I’d have more time to think, but apparently not. Now here we are on a secluded part of the property, under the trees where the stream runs through it.

Standing, I shake off the dirt from the skirt of my dress and turn to face him.

He’s wearing dark brown slacks, a black belt with black shoes, and a pressed white button-down with the top undone and his sleeves rolled up. He’s so handsome I have a visceral reaction to seeing him, and my whole body sags in relief. My muscles and bones relax, my heart thumps hard with recognition, and my soul shouts, Mate!

Only, I’m not sure if I’m his. At least not anymore.

Did I screw this up?

I watch as he slides off the horse and loosely ties the reins to a low-hanging branch of a nearby tree. He turns to face me, and his ever-present scowl is locked in place. My stomach falls, and I suck in air through my nose to try to calm my breaking heart. It is over. We’re back here, in this place where we started, where he looks at me as if I’m gum stuck on the bottom of his shoe.

My chin quivers. I’m trying so hard to keep my feelings hidden away, but I’m failing, and he’s going to see it. He comes to stand in front of me and just studies my face. The tension is so thick between us I could cut it with a knife, and I blurt out the first thing I can think of.

“How did you know I was here?” It’s a place where we’ve had a few moments and a lot of bad.

His scowl turns wary as he pulls his phone from his pocket and holds it up.

“Oh,” I say, remembering he somehow added a tracker to me.

“It’s not like that,” he says. His voice sounds so good it’s like the angels are singing just for me. “I was in the security house and saw on the monitors when you arrived. This told me where to find you.” He shrugs one shoulder.

“It’s okay,” I tell him, and it is. I don’t mind him knowing how to find me. I mean really, it’s smart. At least one person in this world should know.

He runs his hand over his face, lets out a sharp exhale, and then steps away from me. He shoves his phone back in his pocket and starts pacing. My heart trips over itself watching him try to come up with the words he wants to say to me when it should be me saying all the words. Then he stops, turns, and looks devastatingly vulnerable. The scowl is gone, and he’s giving me his true self. He looks miserable, and I want to stop whatever he’s about to say before it has a chance to be released into the air. I don’t want him to be miserable, and I move toward him.

“I saw you that day . . . here in the woods,” he says.

I stop walking, inhale quickly, and wrap my arms around myself.

“Well, not at first, and I guess technically I didn’t see you at all, but after a while, I knew it was you who was there. I didn’t realize it at the time.” He glances at his feet and then back at me. “There’s this feeling I get whenever you are near me. It’s strange to describe because it doesn’t make any sense, but you calm me. Without even realizing it’s happening, my muscles seem to un-bunch, the noise in my head dulls, and I feel like I can breathe deeper. Of course, that day I didn’t know what was happening to me, just knew I felt safe to be me and I wasn’t alone. That’s the feeling I always get, since that day, and only with you. When we actually did meet on the porch, despite all the horrible things that had happened and what I’d gone through with losing my father, when my eyes landed on you, my world shifted.”

“That is not what I took away from you that day.” I could add more, but it’s irrelevant now, and I don’t want to hurt him or make him feel bad.

“And that’s unfortunate.” He gives me a sad smile. “I told myself I was being ridiculous. I was fifteen and you were thirteen, and then I turned sixteen and you fourteen. I know two years doesn’t seem like a big deal now, but then it was. I was driving, playing sports with my friends, doing the things teenage boys do, and yet I couldn’t stop thinking about the fourteen-year-old middle school girl who was friends with my sister, who didn’t want to spend time with me. I was angry with myself and angry with you.” The corner of his mouth tips up just a little bit more, his sad smile now also mournful. “Sometimes, it’s easier to direct anger at something or someone else than to admit you’re just angry with yourself about something or someone you can never have.”

“But that wasn’t true.” I shake my head.

“At the time, I didn’t see things that way. I’m not making an excuse, just trying to explain more of why things were the way they were between us.”

I think back to the boy I knew and then to the man I know now, glimpses of him over the years as he grew into this person who seemed so large when I saw him next to others, but next to me, he was always just Stokes—untouchable, unflappable, uninterested in me. I think that’s what really got to me year after year. There he was, living his life, becoming more, and I’ve felt exactly the same.

“At the beginning of all of this, you asked me several times why I wanted to do it, why I wanted to make you my ‘fake girlfriend,’” he says with finger quotes, “and I never answered you. The truth is, I didn’t know how to move us out of the place we had found ourselves in. I couldn’t think of anything that would make you see me differently. So, although the LuVu Tea article was irritating and inconvenient, it was also a blessing in disguise. This idea sprung up to force you to spend time with me, so you could see I’m not the man you’ve made me out to be.”

“I’m glad you did.” I take a step forward and look up at him. “I love the man I’ve discovered you to be.”

His eyes widen a little, turning glassy, and then he rubs his hand over his face. My poor sweet man. We’re still a few steps apart, and as much as I want to close this distance between us and take him in my arms, it’s now or never. I need to eat crow and explain my part in this, too.

“Stokes, all of this is my fault.” He drops his hand and looks down at me as I speak. “We wouldn’t even be here having to go through this if I had just been honest with you at the Derby. I did hear you talking to Christopher, and I thought you were talking about me. I was so shattered and wrecked at that moment that I couldn’t see the forest for the trees. I should have asked you, not assumed the worst, and I’m so sorry I didn’t.”

“I knew it,” he says, shaking his head and letting out a deep breath. “The way your mood flipped that day, I had no idea what was going on, but I should have known. It’s the only thing that makes sense.”

“Birdie stopped by the shop this morning. I didn’t know you had dinner with her, not that you have to tell me everything you do, but I couldn’t come up with anyone else the ‘she’ could be but me. To my knowledge, I was the one you were spending your time with.”

“I’m sorry, Rosie.”

“No, I’m sorry. You’ve been nothing but amazing to me these last two months, and I hate that I didn’t give you the benefit of the doubt and I hurt you.” My eyes fill and overflow with tears.

Upon seeing them fall, he’s done with the distance between us and wraps me in his arms. His head drops to mine like it always does, and he breathes me in as if I can set everything right in his world.