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“I’ve kept it inside for so long, it just feels so good to let it out. I’m sorry.” I wipe at his shirt where my mascara has smeared on his shoulder.
“Don’t apologize. I’m sorry I never knew . . . I had my head so far up my own ass that I didn’t see how bad Dean’s drinking had gotten.”
We both sit in silence, holding each other as the fire crackles. It feels like a weight has been lifted from my body—like a decade’s worth of tension has been released.
“I felt so much guilt that I’d been thinking about leaving him when he was struggling. I snapped at you earlier about how you don’t bail on someone when they need you, yet that’s exactly what I would have done to Dean.”
“Hey, look at me.” Ranger pulls back, his palms gently cradling my face. “You didn’t. You can’t sacrifice yourself to try to save someone who doesn’t want to be saved. You did try, and you gave everything to him. You aren’t the reason he drank. You aren’t the reason he isn’t with us. You did everything you could to stick by him, to love him, and to protect your baby. Life is a fucked-up shit show sometimes, and I can’t explain it—none of us can—but all I know is you are the most amazing, kind, loyal woman I’ve ever met, and you gave Dean the best life. He was robbed of so much by his family, andyoushowed him what true love meant. You showed him what second and third chances meant. I guarantee you that if he could come back and say one thing to you, it would be ‘thank you.’ I can’t tell you how many times over the years, he’d say:I don’t know what the fuck I did to get her, but I can tell you that I won the lottery in life the day Dahlia walked into mine.”
My lip trembles, and my eyes fill with tears again as a sob breaks through my chest. I fall into Ranger’s arms, letting out the remaining guilt I’ve let eat at me over the years. He leans back, cradling me against his chest as the warmth of the fire and the exhaustion of crying lulls my body to sleep.
8
RANGER
Ihold Dolly in my arms for as long as I can. The sun has long set and the fire burns low. I scoop her up, holding her against me as I walk down the narrow hallway toward the bedroom. I lay her down gently, tucking her in and taking a seat on the edge of the bed as she stirs.
“Shh.” Her eyes flutter open slightly, but I’m not sure she’s actually awake. Her hand darts out to reach for me. “I’m still here,” I say softly as I brush her hair out of her face. After a minute or so, her hand loses its grip and slowly grows limp as sleep overtakes her again.
I sit on the edge of the bed, watching her for several more minutes, my heart aching for her. I had no idea she felt so alone toward the end of her marriage with Dean. To be fair, I was off doing my own thing at that point. I had excused myself from our little trio more and more after they got married. I understood that they needed space.
I stand up slowly, quietly walking out of the bedroom and closing the door behind me. I head to the bathroom across the hall to finally take a shower. I didn’t even grab a second pair of pants or any clothes to change into before rushing up the mountains. I reach into the shower, turning on the water and allowing it to warm up as I strip out of my jeans and flannel. I take my time in the shower, letting the steam billow around me as I close my eyes.
When we were teenagers, we would come up to Dolly’s family cabin. The cabin is small: just one main room, a tiny kitchen, an even smaller bathroom, and a bedroom. It’s not like those big multifamily cabins you usually see for rent up in the Rocky Mountains. My family has one of those cabins, but for some reason, we never wanted to hang out there. It was outside Estes Park and felt too big, too touristy. Usually, we came up here to sneak beer, and I’d bring whatever girl I was seeing at the time. It was mostly innocent fun. Dean, Decker, and I would grab our fishing poles and head out to do some trout fishing. I remember those days like they were yesterday. You never would’ve known that just a few short years later, our world would be ripped apart.
I think about Dolly and me, and what life could be for us, but doubt still plagues my mind. How could I have been so oblivious to how much she was hurting before? I worry that she still needs to heal, that maybe I’m not ready to be the man she needs . . . maybe I never will be. My mind drifts back to that kiss from earlier—the way her body melted against mine, the way her tongue lazily stroked mine like we’d done that a thousand times before. I don’t know why I did it; I guess it was to calm her down, but also because I couldn’t take it any longer. My cock bobs between my thighs, but I grit my teeth, willing myself not to satisfy that urge. There are too many conflicting emotions right now, too many doubts. I hate that I feel so much guilt for loving her, and I’m not sure how to not let that guilt ruin it. How can you give someone your heart fully when you feel guilt for loving them?
I shut off the shower, done with trying to solve this problem. I need sleep. My body and my mind are both exhausted. I dry off, pulling on my boxer briefs and deciding I’ll just have to sleep in them for tonight. I walk down the hall toward a closet where there are extra pillows and blankets. I grab what I need and trudge to the couch. Within seconds of my head hitting the pillow, I’m already asleep.
* * *
“Ahem.”
I squint, blinking my eyes rapidly as they adjust to the room.
Where the hell am I?
I rub my eyes, sunlight streaming through the curtains across the room. I sit up onto my elbows, and that’s when I remember I drove up to Dolly’s cabin.
“Morning.”
I glance over to my right, where she’s leaning against the small kitchen island, a cup of coffee perched at her lips, which are curled into a smile.
“Mornin’,” my voice is gravelly.
“You sleep okay?” She nods toward my body, and I follow her gaze.
“Oh shit, sorry.” I lunge forward for the blanket I must have kicked off during the night. My mostly-naked body is sprawled across the couch, my half-hard cock on prominent display.
“I’m not complaining about the view.”
“Not very gentlemanly of me.” I laugh as I sit up, tossing the blanket over my lap and realizing I left the rest of my clothes in the bathroom last night.
“There’s fresh coffee.” She motions toward the pot on the counter with her head. “I’d offer to bring you a cup, but my hands are full.” She gives me a flirty little smile as she cradles her mug.
“Not a problem,” I say, standing up with the blanket. I wrap it tightly around my waist, folding the end into the waistband. I walk toward her, stopping in front of her to look down into her big blue eyes. “Did you sleep okay?”
“I did. Thanks for putting me to bed. At least, I assume you did, because I don’t recall putting myself to bed.”
