Page 19 of Promised Cowboy

She doesn’t say anything, but I can feel her watching me from the kitchen doorway as I scrub the same pot three times over. I hear Wyatt’s voice from the other room, soft and low as he coos to the baby. I should feel safe here. I should feel rooted.

Instead, all I feel is like I’m waiting for a shoe to drop. For someone to ask me what the hell I’m doing.

Because I don’t have an answer.

* * *

Later that afternoon, I open my laptop.

It takes less than five minutes to find it — the job posting I bookmarked months ago and never went back to. Senior marketing strategist. Big-name company. Out-of-state. Remote start, in-office preferred after relocation.

I stare at it for too long.

It doesn’t spark anything.

Not excitement. Not ambition.

Just… an exit.

Which feels like the safest thing in the world right now.

I click the application link.

I don’t finish it.

But I keep it open.

That night, I lie awake in bed and go through every excuse in my head.

It’s too soon.

This isn’t what I came home for.

He’s just a childhood crush I never got over.

I don’t want to give up everything I built.

I’m just tired. Burnt out. Vulnerable.

But none of it feels true.

What feels true is that I’ve never felt more seen than I did lying in his arms.

What feels true is that I’m scared — not of him, but of what it means to want something so badly when I thought I’d already made peace with not having it.

* * *

The next morning, I find Wyatt in the barn.

“Hey,” I say quietly. “You got a second?”

He wipes his hands on a towel and nods. “Sure. Everything okay?”

I nod, then shake my head. “I think I need to head back.”

He looks at me for a long second. “You sure?”

No.