Page 85 of Paper Horses

Huffing, she said, “Because it was our anniversary and I wanted to go back to you and I couldn’t. My father had been up my ass about how I needed to get it together. And, well, I drank by myself in my suite and woke up the next morning with a pounding headache and threw up all morning.”

“You drank yourself into a stupor on our anniversary that year?”

“Yes,” she admitted, tucking her arms around her chest as if they could protect her from the memory.

“I sat in my room and drank an entire six-pack while I binged on pizza and listened to depressing songs that night.”

Her eyes jumped to mine.

“Been silently mourning that day for the past fifteen years, Olivia. I don’t go out. I stay on the couch with my beer and eat cold pizza and watch stupid movies.”

“Even when you were dating?”

I nodded and tugged her to me. “Even then. I told you, Olivia. You are the only one who has ever owned my heart, and it has broken more every year that we’ve been apart. That day is the only day I ever let it show.”

Her hand reached up to my cheek, caressing it as she said, “I drink merlot and stuff myself with cheese and crackers while I watch cheesy romance movies. It’s the only time I allow myself so many carbs and the only time I indulge in those kinds of movies.”

I took her hand and brought it to my lips. “For our next anniversary, it’s wine, beer, pizza, cheese and crackers, and cheesy romance movies that we will watch together.”

Her brows pulled together, and I recognized the flash of doubt, the worry that continued to hound her, but it disappeared as quickly as it had come, and she dragged my head down to kiss me.

“I love that idea,” she breathed, and I held her close, relishing the thought of celebrating us together instead of apart, like we had been for far too long.

The Brand was situated at the end of Main Street. By the time I’d dropped the packages off at the truck and walked Olivia down the street, music was pouring from it. With every step, her hesitation became more pronounced, her pace slowing, her mood shifting.

I stopped us at the side of the building, far enough from the entrance to avoid gossiping glances.

“What’s wrong?” I asked her, seeing the worry back in her eyes.

“Nothing. Let’s go in.” She moved, but I boxed her in, smoothing my hands up her arms.

“Olivia, you’re in your head again.”

Hazel irises fractured with splatters of gold widened and confirmed my suspicion.

“I’m not in my head.”

The thought hit me that I had done this to her. Pushing her out of her comfort zone, challenging the woman she’d become, ignoring the signs that it might be too much. Lost in the euphoria of having her back in my life.

“Fuck.” I scraped my hand through my hair. “Why didn’t you say something?”

“About what? And watch your language.”

I gave her a frown before saying, “About this.” I gestured to the bar and then back to her. “All of it. Pretending you’re excited to have drinks with my ex and her husband.”

“I never said I was excited.”

“You never said anything to make me think you weren’t okay with it, Olivia.” But I should have known. If she’d asked me to do the same thing, I would have done it and hated every minute of it…if I survived the night without punching someone.

Her sigh came out fractured as she lowered her eyes. “It’s not that.”

“Then what is it? Something I did?” Shit, I sounded like a desperate man, pleading that I hadn’t screwed something up.

She rested her head on the brick wall, bringing her sight to mine. “I’m not sure who I am now.”

Her words struck me, and I tried not to reel back.

“I’m trying to be her again, the girl you fell in love with, but she’s been gone so long.” Her eyes pleaded with me to understand as she continued. “I want parts of her back, but there are parts of my life now that I don’t want to lose. I love designer clothes and dresses that flatter my curves. I love heels that make me taller than small men with big egos. I love getting my nails done in pretty colors and having lattes with cute designs in the foam.” A tear slipped from her eye, and she brushed it away with her fingers. “But I like jeans and riding and being with you. I like who I am with you, Hudson.”