Iwasa happy, positive person, or at least I tried to be, but I’d been pushing back the tide for months and… it was hard. And competent? No. Heck, no. I was doing my best, but my beautiful, historical home was crumbling to literal dust.
I was lonely. I was tired. And I really,reallydidn’t understand why Webb didn’t like me.
Against my will, I burst into tears—and not the quiet, dignified kind, but chest-heaving, the kind of gut-wrenching sobs that had been building up for months. I freakinghatedit but couldn’t stop.
“I never lied to you!” I cried. “But I do lie. I lie all the time. To myself. To my mom. To everyone. I wanted to have a fairy-tale adventure for my mom’s sake, but I’m not doing a very good job at adventuring, and now my horse is falling down… I meanhouse.I don’t have a horse… and now I probably never will! And I’m destroying history, and I was socold,and I don’t think anyone in this town likes me very much.”
“What? No.” Webb scowled, his eyes a little panicky. “That’s not true.Hush.”
I wanted to hush. I was trying to hush. But the harder I tried, the more difficult it became.
“It is true!” I blurted. “It really is. Everyone’s polite and all, but… they’re still mad at me for what happened with Aiden. Your family never says hi to me anymore, and n-nobody seems to know my name, and I don’tknowhow to make pie like youruncle Drew, and tonight, my living room…” I broke off with a shake of my head.
Too pitiful. I wasnottelling that story.
“Look,” I said. “I have no idea what you mean with deeds and con artists, and if you want my land, you can have it. All of it. Just… please go away and leave me alone, okay? I won’t bother you anymore.”
And I meant it, too. After this, I was done trying to convince him to like me. It was time to stop wishing things were different and direct my energy to good things instead.
No more attempting to explain myself.
No more daydreaming we were friends and staring across the fields.
No more sheep-carrying fantasies…
Or, like, hardly any.
“Ah, fuck.” Webb stepped back from the table, and for a single beat of time, he looked horrified and helpless in the face of my tears. Then he resolutely grabbed a stack of slightly damp cocktail napkins from the table and began scrubbing my eyes.
“Okay, hush now,” he murmured. “You’re okay. I’ve got you. Let me do this.”
The irony was not lost on me. I’d really wanted someone to say things like that to me tonight. I’d just imagined it being a good bit sexier.
And exponentially less awkward.
“Let go!” I tried to squirm away, but he cupped the back of my head gently and force-dried me like I was a child.
“No, no, let me fix it. Everything’s fine. Here, blow.” He held the soggy napkins to my nose.
“No way.” I whacked him in the stomach. “I am not going to blow you, ever.” I mentally replayed my words and felt my face get hotter when I hadn’t thought that was possible. “Just please go away, Webb.”
Leave me to my humiliation.
“Y’okay over there?” the bartender yelled.
Webb waved him off. “Yeah, Van, we’re good. We’re excellent. Luke’s just… upset about the game.”
After a shocked beat, the bartender moaned, “Ah, shit. Luke’s a Montreal fan?”
Someone behind Webb cheered. “Hell, yeah! You might be a flatlander, but I knew I liked the look of you, Willams! Olé!”
I pulled the cuffs of my sweater down over my hands, pressed them to my damp eyes, and wished the world would start making sense.
“I’m sorry,” Webb said, sounding sincere. “I scared you, didn’t I? I wasn’t trying to bully you. I would never actually hurt you. I’m not… I was just…” He nodded at the seat across from me. “Can I sit down and explain?”
“Now you want to sit?” I sniffed. “The time to ask that was probably before you attacked my face with paper products.” But after a beat, I relented. “Fine. Suit yourself.”
He slid into the booth. “I’m sorry,” he said again. “I may be a bit more inebriated than I thought. I’m not thinking… straight.” He grimaced, then added darkly, “Atall.”
