Page 46 of Revelry (Cowgirls Do It Better #2)

Tate

“Harriet, pop that gum one more time and I swear to God, I’ll fire you!” I raged.

There was silence as my words registered. Then I heard the distinctive plop of the gum into the trash can and I pushed out a shaky, relieved breath.

My OCD was at an all-time high, anger hopping along for the ride and I knew why. I hadn’t had a Gertrude fix in weeks. And it was all my own fault.

But in my defense, she had poked at a particularly sore wound that hadn’t healed even after almost twenty years and a fuck ton of therapy.

I was like an animal nursing an injured paw, lashing out when someone tried to look at it.

The victim of my wrath had been the one woman I never wanted to turn it on.

I hadn’t seen her since. Our text chat hadn’t pinged with continuous messages. I hadn’t heard her caterwauling next door or anything through the bedroom wall. I hadn’t even seen her at the ranch, but she could be avoiding me, she knew my schedule now.

The second I had a moment to cool down, everything I said flooded into me.

The cruel way I’d spoken to her, snapping at her out of guilt over ignoring my brother.

I hated that I had all these feelings and pain when it was my father who caused all this.

I hated myself for bringing up Gertrude’s father.

The situations were completely different, and I had no right to remind her of her own trauma while I struggled to cope with mine.

Her parting words had haunted me. They weren’t cruel but lined with pity that made bitterness burn my throat.

Because she was right. I’d always thought I wanted to be left alone, hadn’t wanted to let people into my life for fear of being hurt, used or abandoned.

But the last few months with Gertrude, and the friendships I’d made in town, had been the best of my life.

It had been hard without her, harder than I thought it would be.

I figured things would just go back to normal and life would be the way it was before.

I tried to tell myself that life before Gertrude was fine, it was good, it was what I wanted.

Except it turns out that life with Gertrude was a hell of a lot brighter than life without her.

I just wanted to talk to her.

Christmas and New Year had come and gone, and I’d have liked to spend them with her.

Our crappy Christmas tree was officially dead.

But I couldn’t bring myself to take it down.

The memories of us laughing, the lights reflecting off her joyful face, the sheer pleasure that she brought into my life, chasing away bad memories and then the mind-blowing sex that followed haunted me.

“Are you okay, Dr. Wilder?” Harriet peered at me around the door frame, like she was too scared to come in. I was a dick for shouting at her, my temper was quicker than normal at the moment, especially for all my OCD triggers.

“Yes, apologies, Harriet. It’s been a tough week.”

She nodded. “What about last week?”

I bit my cheek. “That was also a tough week.”

“And the week before, was that tough too?”

I nodded, clenching my teeth.

“Yah, that’s a lot of tough weeks, Dr. Wilder. Maybe you should speak to someone about that?” She was too afraid of me to reprimand me for my behavior, but this was the closest she would get.

I nodded. “You’re right, Harriet. It won’t happen again.”

She smiled a little, like she was proud of herself and I was kind of proud of her too for telling me, without telling me, to get over my shit and stop taking it out on her.

She was right. I needed to speak to someone. I took out my phone and messaged Neil to see if he was free for a last-minute appointment. He replied that he had some time tomorrow, so I took the slot.

“I’m heading out, Harriet. You can go too,” I called, getting my bag and shutting down my computer. I was only sitting here sulking, not exactly saving the world.

“Yah? You sure?”

I chuckled to myself at the wonder in her voice. “Yah, Harriet, yah.”

“You’re the coolest, Dr. Wilder.”

I said goodnight and then went home. As I pulled onto the cul-de-sac, I spotted the lights on in Gertrude’s house.

I parked on the driveway and hovered outside, one leg over the hedge separating our driveways, indecision flitting inside me.

I wanted to see her and apologize but other than saying sorry, I wasn’t sure what else I wanted to say to her.

Seeing Neil tomorrow would ground me and give me the chance to work through some of my issues, I would wait until then.

Storing my shoes and bag, I headed into the pristine kitchen, opened the fridge and pulled out the last remaining container of her ice cream.

I grabbed the lone spoon in the rack and popped the Tupperware tub open.

It was two thirds empty and I was trying like hell to make it last as long as possible, to savor it like I should have savored her.

I had one mouthful, closing my eyes as her creativity flared to life over my tongue, my tastebuds tantalized by her love.

I wasn’t kidding when I said you could taste the love in her ice cream, it was my favorite flavor.

I had another mouthful and then with a reluctant, mournful sigh, I returned the container to the freezer.

I estimated that I had another five days’ worth before I ran out.

I didn’t even want to contemplate living without it.

Living without her.

The thought stopped me cold. I couldn’t imagine her not being in my life, but I also couldn’t think like that.

Whatever it was between us, it wouldn’t work out.

I thought I’d made progress with my OCD but I was wrong, I’d spiraled ever since seeing my father again and my fight with Gertrude.

I wouldn’t trap someone into being with me while I was like this and I certainly couldn’t contemplate raising a child with all my idiosyncrasies.

I would never want them to feel the way I did growing up, unloved and unwanted because I couldn’t control my impulses.

Gertrude was destined to have a family, full of wild children with wild curls. I’d seen her interacting with kids at the fair and loved how she indulged them. How she would indulge our children if we had them, the image pushing its way into my brain and refusing to leave.

Ugh, this was all pointless to think about and would only make me sad.

I worked out until I could barely lift my arms and then went to shower before bed.

I stood under the spray, squeezing shower gel onto my hands and thinking about when we showered together.

I missed our shower chats and sitting on the toilet lid while she babbled away about anything and everything, listening to her chatter.

I hadn’t wanted her to fix her shower really. I just panicked over how deep my feelings for her had grown and how much I’d grown to rely on her. It scared me that I was relying on someone again, someone who could hurt me and abuse my care, like my mom had.

But I’d witnessed relationships recently, the friendships I had made with the guys, Kat and Jack, and my relationship with Gertrude.

None of these showed any evidence of an unhealthy attachment or reliance on the other.

It was an even trade, we all looked after each other and were there for each other.

It wasn’t a burden or a requirement, it was freely given because we wanted to.

I lay awake that night, listening with bated breath for any sound through the wall behind me.

Any sign of her, a breath, a sigh, anything.

But it was silent. I gave in and knocked one knuckle against the wall, hoping she’d hear me and respond but after waiting an endless amount of time, I decided she didn’t want to talk to me. I didn’t blame her.

I was heartbroken that I’d lost my best friend and, I feared, the only woman to ever steal my heart.

*

“What was the reason you wanted to see me?” Neil asked the next day when I sat down in his office.

I fiddled with the cuff on my shirt, mulling over my words and unsure how to put them together.

Neil had always been patient with me, knowing I would choose my words and release them when I was ready.

Except for some reason they wouldn’t come.

I stood up and paced, then went to the window and looked out over Main Street.

There she was.

Looking both sweet and sexy in her oversized purple sweatshirt, tucked into light blue jeans and her lilac cowgirl boots decorated her feet.

She was outside the art gallery Cathy owned and staring into it with a curious expression on her face.

I couldn’t say how long she stood there, or how long I watched her ebony curls blowing gently in the breeze.

After a while, I realized Neil had come to look out the window with me. He shook his head.

“You blew it, didn’t you?”

I looked back to Gertrude and nodded, not able to voice it.

“Self-sabotage will destroy your life,” Neil spoke softly.

His words hit their mark and my shoulders slumped in as I stared longingly at Gertrude then watched her walk away, back to her pink Beetle parked down the street. I was exhausted, and emotional, my words shaky when I said, “I don’t want to do that anymore.”

“Come with me,” Neil replied, pushing away from the window and grabbing his keys.

My brow furrowed in confusion. “What?”

Neil sighed. “Just come with me.”

I trudged after him, resigned over whatever was going to happen next.

He was probably going to take me somewhere and break up with me as a patient.

Somewhere public so I couldn’t lose my temper or make a scene.

I followed him downstairs and out the back of the building to a Dodge truck.

Neil held the passenger door open for me. “Get in.”

“Where are you taking me?”

“Into the woods,” he replied without missing a beat.

I grimaced. “Maybe I should tell someone where I’m going in case—”

“In case I decide to murder you and bury the body?”

I clicked my fingers three times. “Yeah, that.”