Page 99 of Mountain Daddy (Mountain Men #2)

Luther

The sun is setting by the time I get out of my truck.

I’ve been sitting here, truck backed into the dark garage, engine off, staring at nothing for… hours.

Her tears.

The way she cried.

Her voice as she said you promised .

I press my hand to my chest.

I did promise.

And I meant it. When I said it, when I told her this wouldn’t end badly, I meant it.

But I was wrong.

My boots are loud in the silent garage.

I was so fucking wrong.

Opening the door, I step into my house.

My empty house.

I keep walking.

I walk down the hall, through the main room, and out the back door onto the deck.

I can’t be in there.

Not yet.

Not with Kendra’s energy lingering in the corners.

“Crawl to me.”

“Take your top off.”

“Does that feel good?”

“I didn’t ask what you wanted.”

I close my eyes.

I never asked her what she wanted.

And that was my fatal mistake.

I never asked.

If I’d asked… If that day, before pancakes… If I’d asked her and she’d told me, we could have stopped it then.

It.

Us.

I tip my head back and breathe.

What’s that bullshit saying?

It’s better to have loved and lost…

I don’t think so.

Whoever said that is full of shit.

Whoever said that never really loved someone.

Because if they had, they’d know that there’s bliss in the ignorance of not knowing what you can’t have.

There’s bliss in the lack of hope.

Because for a few weeks… I hoped.

For a few weeks, I pretended she was mine.

For a few weeks…

I breathe.

I wish I’d never…

I breathe again.

Met her.

Seen her.

Touched her.

Tasted her.

Known her.

I try to breathe.

My throat is so tight I have to open my mouth to pull in air.

And with my eyes closed, the thin mountain air feels heavy around me.

I suck in a breath.

And I lean into the pain.

I feel it.

I deserve to feel it.

And as my heartbeat slows, I admit that I’m the one full of shit.

I wouldn’t give up my memories of her for all the ignorance in the world.

Because if I can’t have her, at least I can still have those.