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“A serious one. I think of you often and hope that you’ve found contentment at least. I know the two of us weren’t a good match. You were older and sophisticated. I was too young and naive. It was bound to end badly.”
He responded with a scowl. “Don’t be ridiculous. You were perfect.”
She gaped at him. “We divorced, Farris. That’s the opposite of perfection. Most people would call it a monumental failure.”
“India. You know the breakup was my fault. I see no point in rehashing old history.”
She stared at him blankly. Her brain was blank, as well. “Your fault?”
Farris jumped down from the table. “Come on,” he said curtly. “It’s getting dark.”
He was right. The winter days were short. Soon, the sun would disappear behind the jagged peaks of the mountains in the distance.
Joining Farris on the horse this time was much harder. Not the physical part. He brought the stallion to the table, so India was easily able to mount.
But sliding her arms around him felt unbearably intimate. Why had she ever agreed to this ride? Touching Farris, even as a necessity, was an assault on all the walls she had carefully built around her emotions. Being so close to him exposed all the lies she had told herself. That she was better off without him. That she no longer had feelings for him.
His hand brushed her thigh as he shifted in the saddle. “You okay back there?” he asked. The breeze had picked up.
“I’m fine.”
Farris kicked his heels, and the horse took off. India leaned into Farris’s back, her cheek resting at his spine. His body was a shield against the icy air.
Tears formed in her eyes and froze on her lashes. It was only the wind making her eyes water. She had shed too many tears five years ago over Farris Quinn. Never again.
