“Jacob?”
He didn’t turn, but his shoulders tightened at her approach. “Poppy, what are you doing here so early?”
“Couldn’t sleep,” she admitted. She drew a steadying breath, the scent of fresh milk and earth grounding her resolve. “Actually, I came to talk.”
“Talk?” He turned. The wariness in his stance told Poppy this conversation would not be easy.
“About us,” she said, her pulse quickening as she closed the distance between them, mindful of the cows that observed them with mild interest. “I feel like there’s a chasm between us, Jacob. One I don’t know how to cross.”
“Poppy…” His voice was a low rumble of warning.
“Please, hear me out.” She pleaded, her hands instinctively reaching for him before she caught herself and let them fall. “I care for you. But sometimes I fear that no matter what I do, it’ll never be enough. That your heart... is somewhere I can’t reach.”
Jacob’s jaw clenched, and he turned away, busying himself with the task at hand. “I’m not sure what you want from me. I’ve got nothing left to give, Poppy. The war…It took everything.”
“Everything except your life, Jacob. You’re still here, and I believe there’s a reason for that.” Poppy’s voice trembled.
“Is this what you want?!” Jacob exploded suddenly. “To dig up past horrors I’ve spent years trying to bury?”
“Isn’t it exhausting?” She matched his intensity, her own frustrations bubbling to the surface. “Carrying all that pain alone? I just want to help you carry it, Jacob. To share the weight.”
“Share the weight?” His laugh was hollow, bitter. “You think love is some kind of magic cure? It’s not that simple!”
“Then teach me, Jacob!” Poppy’s eyes blazed with the same fiery defiance that mirrored her hair. “Show me how to be there for you, because right now, I feel like I’m grasping at shadows in the dark.”
“Maybe that’s all we are,” he snapped, the words slicing through the tension-charged air. “Shadows of who we once were. You can’t save me, Poppy. And I won’t drag you into my darkness.”
“Then what are we doing?” Her voice cracked, and she wrapped her arms around herself. “What am I to you?”
Jacob’s face contorted, and for a moment, she thought he might reach out to her. But then he turned his back once more, leaving her standing alone.
“Surviving,” he said simply, the word hanging heavy between them, a finality that echoed in the empty spaces of the barn.
Poppy bit back the sob that threatened to escape, retreating with quiet dignity. As she left the barn, the rift between them felt wider than ever. But within her, a small flame of hope flickered.
*****
Poppy approached the fence where Jacob stood alone. His posture was rigid.
“Jacob,” she said softly.
He didn’t turn to look at her, but his body tensed. The air between them was thick with unspoken words and stifled emotions.
“Where do we go from here?” Poppy asked.
Jacob’s hands clenched around the wooden fence, knuckles bleached white. “I don’t know, Poppy,” he admitted. “I wish I did.”
With a sigh that seemed drawn from the very depths of his soul, Jacob turned to face her. In the dimming light, his dark eyes were wells of sorrow.
“Every time I close my eyes, I see it all again…the battlefields, the smoke, the blood.” His voice broke. “And Luke... my brother. He was there one moment, alive, and then—”
Poppy watched as Jacob’s facade crumbled, the stoic soldier giving way to the grieving twin.
“He should’ve been the one to live, not me,” Jacob confessed. “It was supposed to be me. I was the reckless one, always taking chances. But it was Lucas who was shot. And now, every breath I take feels like I’m stealing it from him.”
The weight of his admission hung heavy in the air. Jacob looked lost, a man out of step with time, haunted by a ghost only he could see.
“Is that why you keep everyone at arm’s length? Because you think you don’t deserve happiness after what happened?” Poppy’s voice was gentle, probing the wounds that time had failed to heal.
