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“You were right to try and leave this morning.”
Each one of his words sliced through me, my throat was getting tight, this time, it wasn’t his smoke choking me. It was fear. Fear that I let myself believe I could have something good. Fear that this wasn’t real, like my heart wanted it to be. Fear that my soul would never heal from this.
I could hear it in his voice. He made a mistake. He lost me in the process of battling his demons. He lost his grip on reality.
“You didn’t hurt me,” I assured.
“I could’ve killed you,” he snapped.
“Do you want to talk about it?”
He looked at me then, and it felt like the wind was knocked out of me. There, in the gray smoke of his eyes, was pain. Torment. Anguish. Agony.
“I am so fucking sorry, baby,” he whispered, his voice thick with emotion.
“Can I touch you?” I breathed, tears stinging my eyes.
“Valerie…”
“Come inside,” I suggested. “You still have to make me dinner.”
Itwasafterdinner,which was surrounded in silence and calm smoke.
Denver made me an excellent meal, and I sat at the island, watching his every move. I studied the way his hands worked as he blended the ingredients together, the way his lips moved when he tested something, the way the tension in his shoulders left him as the process went on.
Denver was good in the kitchen. It was his sanctuary.
Watching him was like sitting in front of a masterpiece in an art museum. I would never grow bored.
Now, I was sitting on the front porch, in the swing Caleb likes to sit on. There was a blanket wrapped around my legs and I was staring out into the night, listening to the rustling of the trees, the sounds of wildlife in the distance. Denver was inside, doing something in his office. I don’t know what, but I didn’t want to bother him.
He went to a dark place today, and he needed to process that.
My eyes drifted to the gravel driveway.
Just this morning, he rode to me on his steed and kissed me.
Seems like it was ages ago. Days like today terrified me. They were life altering days.
My phone buzzed in my hands.
Mom FaceTime.
I answered, plastering a smile on my face. “Hi, Mom.”
My neck wasn’t red anymore, my skin back to normal. It was like it never happened. His hand wasn’t on my throat for long, maybe ten seconds at most. The boys were coming up to invite us to dinner at the bunk house at the right moment. Beau shoved Denver off me and Mags took care of him.
“Let’s cut the shit,” Jackie said, poking her face in the camera. “Where is he?”
“Jackie!” Mom scolded.
Jackie got beside my mom in the frame. “Don’t start. You’ve been wanting to see him all day.”
Mom’s green eyes rolled, but a smile played on her lips. They were in the living room on the couch. Mom had a purple silk wrap on her head today. Her skin was paler than normal but there was a light in her eyes I’d never seen before.
“I would like to meet the man driving my daughter crazy,” Mom said with a smile.
He was driving me crazy. This was crazy.
