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I blinked at the windshield because I couldn’t be seeing straight. Gage stood on the front steps of the school with Henrietta.
Seeing her was like a punch to the gut and a drink of fresh water after months in the desert. She was beautiful, even in the dim lighting. The light yellow dress she wore hugged her curves, and her hair fell down her back in soft curls. I wanted to kiss her, I wanted to hold her, I wanted to pool her hair in my hands and breathe in her scent I’d missed so damn much.
But I was hurt too, and that pain kept me sitting in the truck, staring at my brother and the woman I loved.
How long had Gage been talking with her? How long had he known her?
What were they doing here? Together?
Movement made me refocus my gaze, and I saw Gage walking toward me, quickly striding across the distance still in his work clothes. He reached my window and rolled his finger through the air.
My arm felt stiff and heavy as cement as I reached for the button and pushed it down. A fresh blast of cool spring air and Gage’s cologne came into the truck.
“What are you doing?” he asked, a slight smile on his face. “Get over there!”
“Gage, I’m gonna need a little more explanation than that. What the hell is going on?”
“I think Henrietta needs to be the one to explain that to you. Call me tomorrow. I’ll take you both out to eat somewhere better than the diner.”
Despite my protests, he walked to his car and pulled away, leaving just a red Jeep in the lot.
It was just Henrietta and me. She looked at me. I looked at her. She waited on the steps. I waited in the truck. But with my window rolled down, I felt more exposed than I had in the safety of my enclosed truck cab.
She tilted her head, a question in her eyes.Will you hear me out?
I had to. Because all the pain this woman had caused me had been from her absence, not her presence. With my body feeling different than my own, I pushed the door open, stepping down and feeling every bit of gravel under my boots.
I kept my eyes on her, silence, pain, distance filling the space between us, no matter how close I got. I stepped onto the porch with her, enveloped by the harsh glow and buzzing of the safety lights.
“Hi,” she whispered.
That little box I’d been keeping my pain in for the last two weeks? It completely shattered with that one word. “Hi,” I managed, my voice sounding strangled.
I watched her a second longer, not knowing how to ask the question on the tip of my tongue.
What are you doing here?
Instead, I asked something different. “Is that your car?”
She looked around like she’d forgotten completely how she’d arrived. When her gaze landed on the red vehicle, her eyes widened slightly in recognition. “I bought it today,” she said. “After I got to Dallas.”
“You bought a car?”
A small smile played along her lips. “It turns out my grandma didn’t want me to sacrifice the love of my life for her to stay at home.”
Those words... they assaulted my heart, pulverizing the already tender muscle. “She didn’t?”
Hen shook her head. “My grandma requested to move into a senior living center, and it’s great. She already has friends she’s beating at cards.” Hen smiled softly at the cracked cement beneath us. “And seeing those flowers you planted for me... I realized I wanted to grow something just as beautiful... with you.”
It was everything I’d ever wanted her to say, but my life was a mess. And her family was still in California. “Hen, I love you.”
She smiled up at me. “You do?”
It took all the strength I had to keep my hands at my sides. I wanted to hold her face and kiss her just to show her how much love I had for her. I only wanted her to be happy with the life she wanted to live. And she’d chosen one without me. “Of course I love you. I love you in a way I’ve never loved another woman. But you love your family. And even though I miss you like crazy, I can’t promise forever to someone who’d put me second. I barely made it through you turning me away the last time. I couldn’t make it through another.”
“I’m not going anywhere, Tyler,” she said stubbornly.
Didn’t she get it? We had our window. Our opening where my job wasn’t an issue. I’d offered to stay! But my savings were lower now. “I don’t have anything for you here!” My voice echoed off the bricks. “I don’t have a job. No one in construction will hire me with my reputation, and I don’t have the capital for my own business. I’m living with my parents now because I can’t kick out my renters. I have nothing, Hen.”