Page 132 of Buck ’Em Cowgirl

I wasn’t sure what reaction I expected, but neither of them spoke. Not for a long while.

Dalton finally broke the tension. “I don’t know what happened.”

“Me either,” I admitted. The words felt hollow, meaningless. “ I can see her car every goddamn day at her house, and it tortures me.”

Dad rubbed his jaw. Dalton shifted in his seat, looking between us.

“You should go there,” he said finally.

I looked down at the floor. “I did.”

“What?” my dad shouted from his seat, and I held up a hand.

“Calm down, old man. I went over there the other night to see her. I couldn’t handle the fact that the only contact any of you had was with Harleigh.”

“And?” Dalton asked.

I exhaled through my nose, jaw tight. “I went to Fable’s. She wasn’t the one who answered the door. It was Harleigh.”

Dad tensed, his brow knitting. “What the hell was Harleigh doing there?”

“Protecting her,” I said simply. “She wouldn’t let me in.”

I paused, and they waited.

“She said Fable couldn’t see me. That she wasn’t okay. The way she said it . . . like it was final, like she was doing me a favor by not slamming the door in my face.”

Dalton shifted forward. “Was she hurt?”

“I asked that,” I murmured. “I asked if she was sick, if something happened. Harleigh, she stood there with her arms crossed.”

Dad shook his head. “Jesus.”

“I told her I almost died. That Fable didn’t even show up. I wanted to know why.”

Dalton didn’t speak. Neither did Dad.

“She said maybe Fable broke in ways I didn’t see. That I wasn’t the only one who got hurt.”

I swallowed hard, that porch light still burned into my memory. “She said Fable’s not well. That she wasn’t going to tell me why, because it wasn’t her place to say.”

Dad muttered something under his breath. I ignored it.

“I told her Fable was my business. That she loved me.” My voice dropped. “I know she does.”

There was a pause, then I added, “She told me not to call. Not to text. Said when Fable was ready, she’d come to me.” I pressed a hand to the back of my neck. “I stood there like a fucking idiot, trying to find some reason to believe it wasn’t happening.” I looked between them. “I’m going to respect that. As much as it fucking kills me, I’m giving her space.”

Dad started to say something, but I cut him off with a shake of my head.

“No. I mean it. She’s not okay, and I’m not gonna be the guy banging down her door when she’s trying to breathe. If this is what she needs right now, then fine. I’ll wait. I’m not chasing her.”

Dalton nodded slowly, like he understood. “You still love her?”

I let out a humorless laugh. “What kind of question is that? Of course I do. Sometimes loving someone means stepping back, not barging in.”

Every bone in my body screamed to do the opposite, but I wasn’t going to. Not this time. Not when she’d already told me without telling me: she wasn’t ready.

“She’s got to come back when she wants to. Not because I showed up again.”