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Clutching the leather cinch, I utter too tightly, “Sure.”
She steps into the stall, and leans an elbow up on Biscuit’s rump, watching me resume unbuckling and unwinding the rest of the straps. “How serious is this thing between you and Marcus?”
I swallow the dread thickening my throat.
Not even two days ago, I was on my knees for the man, tied up and vulnerable, with an undeniable desire to ease whatever had him so pent-up. In the barn, Marcus’s burdens became mine to bear, and I did so willingly, savoring how good it felt to relinquish all control to him.
But today I need answers.
“Why do you ask?”
“Look, I like you, Heather, I really do. But surely you understand how much Marcus means to me.” She slides the saddle pad off Biscuit’s sweat-drenched back while I grab a brush for her matted fur. “I know as well as you what the media says about him, but the truth is our family has been through a lot, and I don’t want to see him hurt.”
Lying awake all night, I ran through every scenario I could think of to gain the intel I need without giving Turner what he wants. I can’t trust him. I know it in my gut, but still, I kept coming back to reality.
I care about Marcus, and Idon’twant to hurt him. But what I want no longer matters. I knew what I came to this island to do, and there’s too much at stake to forfeit it for a fantasy with a man who was never mine to have in the first place.
I fall silent, unable to offer the reassurance she’s searching for, and eventually, she asks, “When are you leaving?”
“Soon.”
Penelope considers this for a moment. “Have you told him?”
I smooth the brush down Biscuit’s fur, focusing on the softsnickof each stroke, but I’m close to the breaking point, and I need to get away from her before I let my emotions derail me completely.
“I genuinely appreciate you playing matchmaker here, Pen, but I think it’s best we just leave well enough alone.”
She watches her fingers glide through a few strands of Biscuit’s tail, twirling them idly. “Actually, I was going to say that I think it would be best if you ended your relationship once you leave Topica Bay.”
The brush freezes as I slowly digest what she’s said.
I close my eyes, begging myself not to fold. To stay strong in my mission to find the answers I need. But hearing the woman I’ve come to consider a friend say she doesn’t want us to be together stings.
Why? I don’t fucking know. Probably because even though I know it’s what needs to happen, I didn’t expect her to give me a realistic answer. Somehow, through all this mess, I needed her to give me an insane solution. One that would somehow give us all a happy ending.
Placing a hand on my shoulder, she says, “Save yourselves the heartache, Heather.”
That’s impossible when my heart’s aching already.
“And what about us? Should we just pretend we were never friends?”
I shrug out of her hold, and Biscuit shifts, sensing the hostility bubbling up inside me.
Don’t you see?my inner-child hollers.This is how you get hurt.
“We’re still friends, Heather.” She turns to me, and the hurt pinching her face guts me. “Why do you think I’m saying this to you? I’ve been through this hell. I’ve desired something I couldn’t have, and I don’t want either of you to suffer.”
I just want her to stop.Stoppouring salt into the wound.Stopmaking sense.Stopthickening the layers of everything I’m questioning like, what’s motivating her encourage me to forget about him.
Sweat breaks across my forehead by the time I drop the brush into an empty stall bucket, and then collect the saddle.
“Maybe you can answer a question for me,” I say, meeting her worried gaze. “At the bonfire, Ernesto told me Marcus wasn’t who I believed him to be. What does that mean?”
Penelope slowly shakes her head. “I can’t answer that.”
My nails dig into the worn leather saddle. I’ve never felt more hopeless than I do right now. I don’t want to take Turner up on his offer, but with Penelope pushing me out, how the hell am I supposed to get the answers I need?
I exit Biscuit’s stall, but Penelope quickly follows to block me. She takes the saddle out of my arms with a frown marring her pretty face. “I’m sorry, Heather.”
