Page 66 of Lost Trust

It’s the truth. I’ve only known the Storm family for a couple of days, but I trust them.

That isn’t what scares me. I’m actually worried about how much I’ll miss him.

“Call as often as you need to, dear.”

“I feel ridiculous,” I admit.

“You feel like his mother.”

My throat tightens. “Thank you for doing this.”

“It’s my pleasure. Now go take care of what you need to take care of so you can come back to us.”

I nod even though she can’t see me. “I will.”

We say goodbye, and I slip my phone into my purse.

For a few seconds, I just stand there.

I step out of the noisy airport and into the taxi line. The crowds are pushing. Horns are blaring. It’s the familiar rush of people in a hurry to get somewhere.

This used to be home.

I spent the last five years trying to build a life here because it was what Blaze wanted.

The fancy condo. The car. The boring routine. It was all him.

There wasn’t anything wrong with it as long as Ryder was happy and we were a family.

That might be the hardest part.

Because in the end, it wasn’t enough. For either of us.

I think about Wildhaven. The wide-open land. The horses. The rodeo academy.

Ryder running around with dirt on his boots and a grin on his face.

I think about the way he looked at me when we talked about moving there.

Like I had just told him Christmas was coming early.

And for the first time, I let myself really consider what I’m doing. I’m not running away. I’m not making some reckless decision because things got hard. That’s what Blaze did.

I’m choosing something better. For Ryder. And for me.

I want him to have a childhood filled with sunshine and horses and scraped knees. I want him to know what it’s like to belong somewhere. To have people who know his name and love him simply because he’s Ryder.

I want him to grow up without a care in the world instead of watching me worry over bills and schedules and whether we’re going to make it through another year in a life that feels too small.

And maybe I want some of that for myself too.

I want more than survival. I want a life I actually love. One I wake up excited to live.

Like I used to.

The thought should terrify me.

Instead, for the first time since I made the decision, it feels like relief.