Page 10 of Saltwater Cowboy

My heart ached even more than before, the pain settling deeper with every memory woven into the fabric of my past.

Frustrated, I rummaged through the suitcase, desperate to find something—anything—that didn’t remind me of Thad. My fingers finally landed on a pair of worn-out leggings and an oversized college t-shirt. Good enough. Without a second thought, I grabbed my toiletries case and headed to the bathroom, needing a moment to breathe—or cry.

I tucked away the toiletries I didn’t need into the cabinet, then rummaged through a drawer in search of the bath bombs Blythe had mentioned. My fingers skimmed over neatly folded towels and spare toothpaste, but the bath bombs were nowhere to be found.

There was a slight knock on the bedroom door. “Auntie?”

Wren.

I crossed the room and pulled open the door, only to find my favorite little human standing there, a triumphant smile on her face and a bath bomb clutched in her tiny hand.

“Mommy said she forgot to put this in your bathroom.” Wrenny sniffed the purple ball in her hand before holding it out to me. “I don’t know what smell it is.”

I took it from her and inhaled. “I think it’s lavender.”

She scrunched up her nose. “I don’t know what that is. It smells like the perfume Grammy wears.” Then, as if struck by a brilliant idea, she perked up. “Do you want one of my Mickey ones instead? It smells better.”

I stifled a laugh. “I like how this one smells, but thank you. That’s very sweet of you, Wrenny.”

“Okay!” She spun toward the door, then glanced back. “Is Thad coming?”

The question hit me like a punch to the stomach. My breath stalled, my mouth suddenly dry. “No.”

“Cool! Then I get to spend more time with you.” And just like that, she was gone in a flash, leaving me standing there with my heart in my throat.

The sweet relief the bath provided was next-level. Was I still a shell of a person? Absolutely. But the warm water and the soothing scent of lavender wrapped around me, loosening the tension I’d been carrying all day. And the second I sank into the heat, the dam broke. The tears I’d fought so hard to hold back finally spilled over, each one carrying a weight I could no longer bear.

Blythe would never judge me—I knew that. But the thought of facing my closest friends, of admitting that the man I had spent years defending was exactly who they always said he was? That felt unbearable. From our very first date, they warned me.

Thad is selfish.

He’s an asshole.

He doesn’t care about anyone but himself.

And every time, I had an excuse. Every time, I smoothed over his rough edges and made him seem softer than he was.

Now, I had to look them in the eyes and say they were right. That, after all the years I spent believing in him, he told me, without hesitation, that I wasn’t worth following across the country.

As if everything else wasn’t enough, this just added insult to injury.

HARD TO LOVE

I studied my reflection in the mirror. My blue eyes were bloodshot and glassy; my skin was blotchy from crying. My nose was stuffy, and I could feel the weight of the jet lag crashing over me. Between the emotional wreckage of this morning and the exhaustion, I was done. There was no way I was going to go downstairs and pretend everything was fine. No way could I sit at a dinner table and smile, acting like nothing had changed. Once the floodgates had opened, there was no shutting them.

The depression was settling in, a heavy, suffocating weight. I felt small. Unworthy. Unworthy of love. Happiness. Joy.

I pulled on the clothes that held no memories, no reminders of the past, and opened the bedroom door. Charlie was just closing the door to the room next to their bedroom.

We locked eyes.

“Hey,” he said, his voice softer than usual.

“Hi.”

“Wren mentioned Thad’s not coming. You gonna be alright?”

I shrugged, the motion small and defeated. “Maybe.”