Page 110 of Saltwater Cowboy

I closed my eyes, trying to hold it together, but it was too much. The weight of those words—too much—had haunted me for so long. It was why I had hesitated to share my dream with anyone, why I had kept my idea of the dried flowers to myself for so long. I was afraid that I’d be too much for anyone to handle. That it wouldn’t be enough. That I wasn’t enough.

“Thad made me feel like I was a project,” I whispered, my voice cracking. “Like I was something he had to fix. He said I was always moving on to the next thing, that I’d never be able to stick with anything. And it broke me, Wells. Because I thought maybe he was right. I thought I was just some mess of ideas that couldn’t figure it out.”

Wells was silent for a long moment, but when he spoke again, it was with such conviction that I almost believed him. “He didn’t understand you, Rose. And I do. I see what you’re doing. You’re figuring it out. You’re building something that’s uniquely yours, and you’ve got the heart and the strength to see it through.”

I shook my head, pulling away just slightly, though I didn’t want to. “But I was afraid, Wells. I was afraid to even tell you about the flowers. Afraid you’d think it was silly for wanting to make something out of it.”

“You’re not silly,” he said simply, his voice soft but steady. “You’re brave for taking a chance on something you care about. You’re real. And that’s what matters.”

I exhaled slowly, feeling the weight in my chest begin to lift, just a little. It was hard to believe what he was saying, but somehow, with the way he was looking at me, I wanted to believe it.

I swallowed hard, wiping my eyes again. “I just—sometimes I don’t know who I am without all of this. Without him. Without the things he made me feel.”

“Then you get to figure that out,” Wells said, pulling me back into his chest, his arms wrapping around me as if to protect me from the world outside. “But you don’t have to do it alone.”

I rested my head against his chest again, listening to the steady beat of his heart beneath me, and for the first time in what felt like forever, I felt like maybe I was starting to believe it. That I wasn’t too much. That I could be exactly who I was meant to be and maybe that was enough.

“I don’t have to be afraid anymore, do I?” I whispered. The words more for myself than for him.

“No, you don’t,” he said softly. “You don’t have to be afraid of anything.”

I let his words settle deep inside me, and for the first time in a long while, I allowed myself to believe them. I wasn’t broken. I wasn’t too much. I was enough.

I held onto Wells, letting his warmth and comfort fill the spaces I had left hollow. The scent of him—earthy and familiar—was like a steadying force against the storm of thoughts racing through my mind. For a moment, I allowed myself to stop thinking, to just exist in the silence between us, with only the quiet hum of the night outside and the soft rise and fall of his chest beneath my ear.

But the relief didn’t last long. It couldn’t. Because, as much as I wanted to let go of the past, as much as I wanted to believe that I was enough, the weight of everything still lingered like a shadow I couldn’t shake off.

Thad’s words echoed in my head, his voice sharp and condescending. You’re hard to love. I had tried so hard to prove him wrong, to show him that I was worth it, but now I knew better. He wasn’t the problem. I was. Or so I had believed for so long.

I pulled back slightly, enough to look at Wells, though I didn’t want to leave the comfort of his arms. “You really don’t think I’m crazy?” I asked, the insecurity creeping back into my voice.

Wells’s eyes softened, and he tilted his head to meet my gaze, his hands gently cupping my face. “You’re real, Rose. You feel everything deeply, and you’re passionate about the things you love. That’s beautiful.”

My chest tightened, and I had to swallow against the lump in my throat. “I don’t know if I can believe that yet,” I whispered. “But I want to. I want to believe that I’m not just this mess of ideas and dreams that never come true. I want to believe that what I’m doing—what I’m starting with the flowers—is enough.”

Wells smiled, that soft, reassuring smile that seemed to ease the turmoil inside me, even if just a little. “What you’re doing is already enough. It’s a part of who you are, Rose. You’re figuring it out, one step at a time. That’s all any of us can do.”

I closed my eyes and let out a shaky breath, trying to calm my racing heart. “But what if I fail?” I asked, the fear creeping back into my chest. “What if I’m not cut out for it? What if it all falls apart?”

“Then you try again,” he said, his voice steady. “And if it still doesn’t work out, then you pivot. You don’t give up. And you don’t let anyone—especially not Thad—tell you that you’re not worthy of chasing your dreams.”

His words felt like a balm to my soul, soothing the scars I had hidden away. I couldn’t help but lean into him again, my forehead resting against his chest as I closed my eyes, trying to steady my breathing.

“You really mean that, don’t you?” I asked, my voice barely more than a whisper.

“I do,” he said simply, his fingers running through my hair. “I see you, Rose. All of you. And I don’t need you to be anything other than who you are. You don’t have to prove anything to me.”

I let his words sink into my skin, and for the first time in a long time, I felt like maybe I was enough. That the pieces of myself that I had been so afraid to share were worth something. That I wasn’t too much, or too broken, or too anything. I was just me.

“I’m sorry for holding all of that inside for so long,” I said softly, pulling away just enough to look up at him. “I should have trusted you. I should have let you in sooner.”

“You don’t have to apologize,” Wells said, brushing a strand of hair from my face. “We all carry our baggage, Rose. But we don’t have to carry it alone. You don’t have to carry it alone. You have so many people who love you—who would be willing to help you carry that baggage.”

I nodded, feeling the weight of his words settle into my chest. I had spent so long trying to do everything on my own, trying to prove that I didn’t need anyone. But in this moment, with Wells holding me, I realized that I wasn’t supposed to do it all alone.

“I don’t want to carry everything by myself.” I admitted, my voice trembling slightly.

“You won’t have to,” Wells promised softly. “I’m here for you.”