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“I did the right thing last night,” I whisper to Bella as I brush out her mane. “She was drunk, or tipsy, or whatever. Either way, too much alcohol was involved,” I ramble. “But maybe she got the wrong idea? Maybe she thinks I was pushing her away?”
Bella doesn’t say anything, but I keep going. She’s always been a good sounding board.
“I told her I liked her, so there shouldn’t be any confusion.”
The horse shakes her head once, and I swear she’s giving me some side-eye.
“Well, I told her I didn’t hate her,” I say, thinking back to our conversation last night. “I said it was the opposite of hate, which everyone knows is love. I basically confessed my feelings for her last night, and still, she’s avoiding me.”
Bella stomps her right front hoof down, giving me a stern look.
“You think I need to go talk to her,” I state, knowing she’s right.
I chuckle at my crazy ass, in here chatting up horses. What’s more, is that I’m about to take her advice, too.
Ten minutes later, I’m dragging myself through the back door of my house, slipping off my shoes before peering around the corner of the hallway. No Gwen, but I do hear her in the kitchen. My eyes dart from the entryway to the dining room to the bathroom door. I know I should just get this awkward interaction over with, but I need more time. I’m a coward, I know, but I opt for the shower first. It’ll give me space to think about how to approach this.
After washing everything twice, including my hair, I decide I’ve wasted enough time. I’m no closer to figuring out what I’m going to do, I just know I have to go face the music.
I throw on my favorite pair of worn Wranglers and a t-shirt, taking a deep breath before heading into the kitchen.
Gwen flits between the stove and the sink, getting dinner ready. She looks at me over her shoulder, giving me a nod. That’s it. Normally, she would be trying to get me to talk to her or humming under her breath while she worked. Today, she just stares at the countertop or straight ahead and she seems so… sad.
I fucking hate it.
I can’t stand to see her like this, but I don’t know how to fix it. I want her so badly, more than I’ve ever wanted anything before in my life, but I know how much she wants to be a mom, how much she loves kids. I’ll never be able to give her that. If I have her, I know I would never be able to let her go. I need to be smart about this and put her wants first, even if my heart breaks at the thought of never seeing her again.
“Are you hungover?” I ask, and she startles at my words.Great start, idiot.
“No.”
“Are you sure?” I say for some reason. Gwen rolls her eyes.
“Yep.”
It seems our roles are reversed.
How do I get out of this mess? I hate having her be so distant with me. I hate knowing that I hurt her last night when I thought I was doing what was best.
Doesn’t she get that all I want to do is take care of her?
How could she?My subconscious asks.You’ve been keeping her at arms length all summer. She’s not a mind reader.
She finishes the last of the dishes from dinner, and I know she’s going to leave and lock herself away in her room for the rest of the night. I can’t have that.
“About last night,” I start, but she cuts me off.
“We don’t have to talk about that,” she snaps. I grind my teeth together.
She’s so damn stubborn.
God, I love her.
“You were drunk,” I try again, earning me a snort.
“I was tipsy, and like I said, we don’t need to talk about this.”
She takes off down the hallway toward her room, and I hurry to follow after her.
