My chest heaves as we both stare into each other’s eyes.
“I—” I don’t know what to say. I assaulted him, and the last time he kissed me, I slapped him. Now I’m leaping into his arms? Shit. What am I doing? “I’m sorry,” I say quickly and slide down. “I don’t know what the hell that was. I can’t believe . . .”
He sighs while looking around. “I couldn’t—I mean.” He runs his hands over his face. “I can’t.” Another pause. “I can’t do this.”
“I know. I don’t know what I was thinking,” I try to explain. “Tonight was just so much, and I’m clearly not thinking straight.”
He takes a step back and puts his hand up for me to stop. “That’s not what I can’t do.”
I’m confused. “What can’t you do?”
“Pretend. I can’t do this with you. You know why.”
“Know what?”
“Ask me why again, Presley,” he demands. “Ask me why she isn’t my wife. Ask me why I didn’t propose to her!”
My heart races, and my mouth goes dry. He steps toe to toe with me. His deep blue eyes, light brown hair, and scruff take my breath away. Zachary Hennington has always been the man who ties my stomach in knots. “Why?” The word falls from my lips before I can stop it.
The wind whips my hair around and the chill in the air causes goose bumps. “Because when you came back, I knew. I knew that I could never look at another woman like I do you. Every time I close my eyes, I see you. I’ve always seen you, Presley.”
“But you’re still with her.”
“No,” he says. “Not anymore. It’s not fair to her, even if you tell me you don’t feel the same. Even if I walk away tonight knowing there’s not a chance in hell of us ever being something . . . I’ll wait for you.”
My lips part and my stomach squeezes. “But—” I grapple with what he said. “You and her . . .”
He runs his hand across my cheek. “It’s over. I’m going to end things with her as soon as it’s not the middle of the night. She’s not the girl I want.”
“Zach,” I say hesitantly. “You don’t know me anymore. I’m damaged. I’ve been through hell, and I’m not even a piece of the girl you knew. I mean, if you don’t want to be with her because she’s, well, her—fine. But not because of me.”
“I don’t want you to say anything. Just know that I mean what I said.” His fingers fall as he leans in and kisses my forehead. “It’s not because of you, Presley. It’s because it’s always been you.”
He turns and walks away. Leaving me more torn up than the last time he left me. Now it’s my choice. And I have no earthly idea what to do.
“M OM.” I HEAR CAYDEN SAY from my door.
“What’s wrong?”
“Can I lie with you?”
It’s the second night this week he’s found his way to my room. “Of course.” I lift the covers and he climbs in.
Cayden rests as I brush his hair back. Cayden suffered with night terrors, and the only way to get him to sleep was to lie in his bed until he finally passed out. Todd could never soothe him for long enough, so I was the one who ended up cuddling with him. When they were little, I used to wish their time away, I wanted them to talk, walk, and feed themselves. Now, I would give anything to have those moments again.
His breathing evens out. “I miss him,” he says in a hushed tone.
“Who?” I ask, even though I’m fully aware of who he means.
“Dad.”
“I know you do.”
I’ve been trying so hard to rid myself of the anger that festers inside me. Knowing that we could’ve avoided this pain makes it damn near impossible to let go. It’s so hard to reconcile. There were no warning signs that this was what he was planning or even considering. I look back on the period of time when he was out of work, and I blame myself for being so oblivious. I should’ve known. I was his wife, his partner . . . I wrestle with my guilt every day.
“Was he sick?”
And this is the part I hate.
“No, not that we knew of.” I dance around with half-truths. I would say that to some extent he had to be sick. But that’s not what Cayden is asking me.
He turns over and faces me. His big green eyes are so full of innocence—innocence that I’m trying so desperately to save. The world is full of ugly truths; children shouldn’t have to be burdened with them.
“I want to go back home,” he says with tears in his eyes. “I miss my friends and my room. I miss Aunt Angie.”
“I wish we could. I really do.” I kiss his head. “I miss her too. But this is our home now. You have to focus on the good things about Bell Buckle.” I’m preaching to the choir.
“I like my horse.”
“See?” I smile.
“I like Uncle Cooper and Wyatt. He’s really funny.”
“He’s something all right.” We both laugh. “He’s been my friend since I was a baby. Did you know that?”
Cayden’s eyes widen. “He knew you when you were young?”
“Hey,” I chide. “I’m still young.”