Page 97 of Dandelions and Smoke

With new eyes and a chilling heaviness, I think about the woman I met at the cafe.

About Jasenia.

I think about what it must have felt like to be trapped in a darkness so overwhelming that, in that moment, she couldn’t see another way forward. Not because she didn’t love Scout and Chief. Not because they weren’t enough. But because whatever pain she was carrying, the loss of her unborn child, the changes in her mind and body, the weight of whatever struggles she was facing, had become something she didn’t know how to survive.

I don’t think I’ll ever fully understand what it feels like to reach that place, to believe the pain is bigger than the possibility of tomorrow, but I know that for some people, that kind of suffering is real.

“You said she was also struggling with postpartum depression at the time?” I ask quietly, trying to understand, to get the whole picture.

He nods.

What I know about Jasenia begins to come into focus: the woman I met at the cafe, the mother she was, and the battle she had been fighting inside herself.

The battle she might still be fighting.

“Could she still be? Struggling with it, I mean. Is that something that goes away? I know grief doesn’t.”

He doesn’t answer. Instead, he scrubs a hand over his face.

My thoughts explode into a dozen different directions, each one demanding to be followed as I try to process the pain she must have felt, how traumatizing all of it must have been for Chief, the possibility that it’s something that she’s still experiencing, the guilt he must have been drowning in, thinking it was somehow his fault. All of it hits me at once, leaving me feeling completely gutted.

“My God,” I rasp. “Garrett, I am so sorry.”

My heart aches as I reach for him, placing my hand on his cheek. “Even if you had been the worst husband in the world, which I don’t believe you were, you didn’t deserve to carry all of that. You didn’t deserve to spend all this time blaming yourself for something you couldn’t control.”

“I know that,” he murmurs, leaning into my touch. “At least I do now. You helped me see that while I wasn’t all I could be, and definitely not perfect, her choices have always been her own. I can take accountability for my part, but I’m not responsible for people’s thoughts, feelings, or actions.”

He closes his eyes and takes a beat, letting his words settle over us. “I still want the best for her. I want her to find happiness, but I won’t keep letting her stop me from finding it too.”

Tears spring to my eyes. After all this man has survived, I can’t help but marvel at the way he still chooses love, the way he still believes in happiness. It fills me with a hope I’ve never allowed myself to feel before. My heart swells with a quiet determination to fight for this, and to also choose us, no matter what stands in our way.

“So where does our road to happiness start? What comes first?”

His eyes brighten, and he tilts his forehead to mine. Pulling away, he places a soft kiss on my lips before answering the question.

“Getting custody of Scout,” he says, searching my face.

“If you’re looking for any indication that that’s not what I want for you, for us, then you’re going to be very disappointed.”

He kisses me again, and this time a familiar flutter settles low in my stomach but is quickly halted when the door opens and Blake steps outside, his head searching left and right until his eyes meet mine.

I smile at my brother as he walks toward us while Chief finishes answering my question.

“My lawyer, Katie, says we’ll ask the court to place custody with me and establish appropriate parenting time for her. I’m not trying to take him away from his mother, but she’s left me with no other options. These are the conditions she’s created.”

We talk for a while longer, the three of us. Chief explains the bullet points to Blake about everything that’s happening and will happen moving forward.

“You know,” Blake says, grabbing the back of his neck. “I’m sure it’s a nice place you’ve got at the fire station, but if you ever need a place to stay that has more room, ours is open and has an extra room.”

Chief’s brows dip, and he swallows before clearing his throat and nodding. “Thank you.”

Soon, we move on to topics that have nothing to do with life-altering choices and more to do with ranch life and who would be the better bull rider.

Me, obviously.

My body melts into the swing as I lay back with a laugh that’s unrestricted. I stretch my arms out and, taking a deep breath, listen to the men I love. It’s nice, and it’s the first time the three of us have had an opportunity to hang out like this. I suppose even men, as stubborn as these two, can come together when they find something to agree on.

“So.” I grin at my brother after Chief has gone inside, retiring for the night. “Do you like him now?”