“Come on, Mel. If you believe it, if you’re so damn convinced I don’t deserve your faith, look me in the eye and tell me.”
So she swallowed and forced her gaze to meet those green eyes, dark with the storm of whatever emotions she didn’t want from him.
“I don’t believe in you.” It was similar to ripping off a Band-Aid—actually, a lot more similar to breaking her arm when she was ten. Snap. A moment of disbelief, and then a blast of pain. Once the pain hit, it was so overpowering she could say anything. Because nothing could match that initial searing stab. “I don’t think you’ll make it through the winter. I think you’ll run away and leave someone else to clean up your mess. It won’t be me.”
She wanted to look away, to close her eyes. Well. Really, if she was talking about wanting, she wanted to rewind and tell him she loved him, but the easy thing had never been the right thing in her life. So she couldn’t possibly give into it, give into him.
“Huh.” His throat worked, but he said nothing else. He didn’t need to say anything else—the hurt and pain was all over his face, and the only thing that kept her tears from falling was sheer force of will.
Which meant this was exactly right, because if her sheer force of will was back, then she’d done exactly what needed to be done.
“I’m going to get my things,” she said, surprised that her voice was still cracked and shaky. Why should she be any of those things when she knew she was doing the right thing? She knew, she absolutely knew she was.
But her legs were weak as she walked to his room, as were her hands when she grabbed her bag that she’d only minimally unpacked in the past few days. Because this had always been temporary. He had always been temporary. The aching wound in her chest was just…just…disappointment she had to hurt him in the process.
But he’d thank her eventually. He would. He’d see she was right.
I fell in love with you. She could barely breathe through the pain of that. She couldn’t think about that. The way his hands, calloused and rough, had held her face in place, like so many times before. The way he’d looked at her and said it as if it were true.
But it wasn’t. It wasn’t true. She blinked at the tears and grabbed what belongings she could immediately see and pretty much gave up on the rest. She had to get out. Get out before the feelings swamped her and she lost her sense of right. Lost herself.
She stepped out into the kitchen to find it empty and breathed a sigh of relief. She could leave without any more threats to herself.
But when she walked outside, he was on the porch, looking over at the llama stables, the mountains in the distance. For a blinding second of pain and fear, she saw something that was theirs.
But it wasn’t. She had Shaw. Not this. Not him.
“Good-bye, Dan,” she forced herself to say. Closure would be good. For both of them. Good-bye. And this was the end. The end.
“I won’t play the Tyler role in this.”
She stopped her quick strides to the stairs, to escape. She didn’t want to look back at him, but she glimpsed him out of her peripheral vision: arms crossed over his chest, silhouetted by sun and mountains.
“Regardless of what you think, I’m not going anywhere. I won’t run away from you.” With every sentence, he took a step toward her, and she could feel his anger and his hurt like it was a living force pushing against her.
And with it came something else. Something he’d misplaced, because he couldn’t love her. No one loved her so much she felt it. So this was…not that.
“I will be in this town, in Georgia’s diner, in Felicity’s store, and when I see you, it won’t be a polite hello and a how are you doing. I’m not going to fade into the fucking background. You think I’ll be like Tyler and give you space? Fuck no. Give up on life like your dad? Not me, Mel Shaw. You will see me in this town, season after season, year after year, and eventually you’ll have to face the truth.”
She didn’t want to hear this. She wouldn’t. But his words followed her all the way to Caleb’s truck.
“You made a mistake. You were wrong. There will be no one to blame—not your family, not this town, not your damn bank account. There will be nothing and no one to blame but yourself.”
She climbed into the driver’s seat, shaking, the tears starting to fall, but it wasn’t just hurt. She might not believe most of what came out of his mouth this evening, but she couldn’t dispute that last sentence. Not even a little.
There will be nothing and no one to blame but yourself.
Truer words. She shoved the truck into reverse and peeled out of Dan’s gravel drive, ignoring the fact that her truck was still there. It didn’t matter.
No, she had no one to blame but herself, but at least this was her choice and not something thrust upon her. At least it was really hers.