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Out of all that’s passed between us tonight, hearing that I’ve disappointed her is the thing that weighs me down the most. I could fucking kick myself for making her feel that way.

Hattie: NO, I DON’T THINK IT’S THAT. NOT ANYMORE…

I frown at my phone and wait for her to explain.

She’s typing for a while—or typing and deleting for a while—and the longer it takes, the tighter my stomach knots.

Hattie: IT’S THE DIFFERENCE BETWEEN GIVING AND TAKING.

My chin notches back.

Me: I don’t understand.

Hattie:

I huff out a breath.

Me: An arched brow emoji?? That’s not helping.

Hattie:

I’LL EXPLAIN.

I wait, rereading her statement.

IT’S THE DIFFERENCE BETWEEN GIVING AND TAKING.

IT’S THE DIFFERENCE BETWEEN GIVING AND TAKING.

And I don’t love the lump that’s settling in my gut.

Hattie: IT’S THE DIFFERENCE BETWEEN AN OFFER AND AN ASK, BECK. IF I ASKED YOU TO MARRY ME, YOU’D SAY YES. BUT WHEN I OFFERED TO GIVE YOU A WAY TO KEEP YOUR FARM, YOU SAID NO.

Hattie: YOU CAN GIVE OTHER PEOPLE WHAT THEY WANT, BUT YOU CAN’T ACCEPT FROM OTHERS WHAT YOU WANT.

Sweat breaks out across my back.

Hattie: ESPECIALLY SOMETHING BIG.

I flinch.

Me: I don’t think that’s true.

I fire off the denial, even though this prickling all over my skin says that maybe it is true.

Hattie: HA!

I scowl at the phone, but before I can retort, she texts again.

Hattie: WHAT ABOUT THE FIRST TIME WE FOOLED AROUND? IN THE STORE SHED? YOU GAVE ME A SWEET HAND JOB AND THEN TRIED TO DEMURE WHEN I OFFERED THE SAME TO YOU.

A cough punches through my throat.

Shit.

That was a good afternoon.

But she’s right.