I step forward. ‘Noah—’
Gray’s stormy eyes shoot up to me and rage flickers in them. ‘I told you this was no place for him. Look what you’ve done.’
Look what you’ve done.
Noah blubbers, his words muddled by his uncontrollable sobbing and from how he presses his face into his father’s chest. One glance at his wound again tears me apart, my heart cracking at the pain he must be in, my chest caving in as the air suddenly feels thicker, heavier, harder to breathe down.
Gray’s right. Noah ran because ofme.
He got hurt because ofme.
BecauseIshouted at him.
Lightning strikes my mind in that very moment—a quick flash of Honey leaving my truck cab over nine years ago. Leaving me because she didn’t want to be dragged along my rocky path, because I was too broken, too fucked-up.
Words of her, Gray, and my father whirl around my mind, the pressure in my head increasing.
How humiliating it is that I tried to convince myself Honey still looking for a place to buy wasn’t a bad sign—of course she doesn’t want to bring her son up here forever. I’m a novelty, fun for Noah to be around for now, but it won’t last. He needs someone stable, someone that knows how to love properly.
How could I possibly be that?
Because no matter how many kisses Honey presses to my scars, no matter how many pictures we draw over thebad memories in the house, I’ll always be the same broken Sawyer Nash.
My footsteps backward begin slowly, the crisp snow crumbling beneath my feet. Gray hefts Noah up into his arms to carry him, turning away from me as he does so, and I take it as my chance to run. My eyes snap onto the other end of the ranch, where it would be in the dark, and fear drives me, filling my bones with fire. Every pound of my feet against the snowy ground begins to drown out the agonising thoughts tumbling about my mind.
When I reach the turn in the road, three figures catch my attention from the corner of my eye, yet I don’t cease my pace or change my direction back to them. I can’t face her disappointment. Can’t be there to witness the realisation dawning on her face of who I’ve always been when she sees what I’ve caused.
‘Sawyer!’ Honey calls after me, pleading.
But I don’t look back. Just keep racing through the snow.
Because I know this ranch like the back of my hand. I know all the best places to hide, to escape through. To run away from the crippling fear, the numbing pain, and heavy reminders that I’ll never be good enough that wait behind for me.
35
Honey
Stay at the ranch as long as you need.
I keep reading Sawyer’s text, the only word I’ve heard from him since he left a few days ago on Christmas night, running off into the darkness even as I called after him. Leaving me here without explanation, without his love. No matter how many messages or calls I send his way, that’s all I have from him.
The finality of the text haunts me. Stay here as long as we need, until we’re ready to move on—that’s when he’ll come back. Once we’re gone. No plans to live with us for any longer.
I just don’t understand what happened. One minute, Sawyer and Gray are clearing up the table, leaving my mom, Avery and me to chat lightly as Noah listens, resting his head on his fists as he looks like he’s a few minutes from dozing off. I tell him he can go play with his toys, hoping it might perk him up a bit as I know Gray willwant to spend a little more time with him before he falls asleep.
And then I’m out on the ranch, snowflakes flurrying against me, the bitter wind biting at my skin, as I watch Sawyer run off into the distance. I wonder if this was how he felt when I left him all those years ago—if his heart cracked as profoundly, if the stab of betrayal wedged itself as deeply in his stomach as it did mine.
If this is just karma for being the one to run first.
For thinking I could prove the universe wrong when it said we weren’t meant to be.
‘We’re all packed and ready to go.’ Gray waltzes through the archway with his suitcase in tow and carrying Avery’s duffel bag as she follows. I stash my phone in my pocket where I’m sat on the couch and let out a silent sigh of relief. As nice as it’s been for Noah to have his dad here, the tension in the air since Sawyer left has been darn stifling.
I’m not sure I believe Gray’s relaying of the events either. He probably saw this tall, strong, loving man with the kindest of hearts and the ability to make everyone smile bonding with his son in a way he never has and wanted to spin him into something bad. A rough and ready bull-riding cowboy known for his wicked grin and heartbreaker antics who has become completely devoted to taking care of me and Noah, when Gray could never commit to that.
But that’s what brings me back to the text—if he cared so much, why did he run? Why hasn’t he come back? Aren’t we enough to keep him here?
I was going to tell Noah about us this week.