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Heblinks several times as tears fill his eyes.
“No.No.No.”Hesays the word over and over as if it will change things. “Don’tyou love me?”
“Yes, with all my being.”
“Don’tyou want to marry me?”
“Morethan anything,Evan.”
Hepushes the ring against my chest. “Thentake it back.”
Ishake my head. “Ican’t.”Thewords are soundless, my voice lost.
“Isit because ofLuke?”
Ishake my head. “It’sbecauseIlove you, and this has been coming from the beginning.Iwas just too afraid to accept it.Iwant you to stay.Ineed you to love me, but we can’t do that if we’re not together.”
Angerflares on his face.Hethrusts his finger toward the window. “Ican love you from anywhere!Fromeverywhere!Youthink my love will fade just because we’re in different states?”
Hedoesn’t understand.Whywould he?Hecan’t see whatIsee.Hedoesn’t understand how life is hard, and love requires work and time together.Igently push his hand, which is pinching the ring between his fingers, toward his chest.Icry as words fail me.Icry as the cold dread weaves its tendrils around and through me.
“I’mnot enough?Youdon’t trust me?Helpme understand!” he implores.
ButIcan’t. “I’lllove you forever,Evan.Always.”
Hebolts to his feet, grabbing his clothes and boots. “Seemsto me, your love only reaches as far as across town.Anyfurther, and it’s not enough!”
Ican’t see him for the tears marring my vision.Iwipe at my eyes, but they fill faster.
“No…”
“Ihope when you wake up missing me afterI’mgone, you remember how it wasyourdecision to break us apart.Notmine!” he yells.
Oliviastarts crying in the next room.
Evanthrows open the bedroom door and storms out.Olivia’scries get louder, and they shake me to my soul.Theyare the sound of my heart crying out for the painIhave givenEvan.
Hewill never be back.I’veruined everything to keep it from happening later, as if it would hurt less.Itwon’t.Nothingcould hurt as much as breaking his heart.
* * *
LUKE
Istand under the warm spray and mentally catalog the photosItook today.Everythingwas turning green, and the flowers were in full bloom.Isaw more wildlife today too.Thereare so many photos thatI’vehad to organize them.Idon’t enjoy that part of the process, but it’s a necessary task ifI’mgoing to start selling them.Lastweek,IsentEliseLogansome of my photos.She’sthe one who turned me on to the idea of creating a website and selling prints.Ispent one evening looking at all of the options for photos, from mounting to canvas prints.Thatled me to checking out other photographers’ websites.They’retypically pretty modern and clean, soIthinkIcan manage to build my own site.
Itis the first thingI’vebeen excited about in a long time, andIbelieve it is the first thing thatIwant to do just for me.Ihave always believedIwould be a rancher like my father, but the idea of making a living from my photography is almost too good to imagine.
Beforemy head begins swimming with questions about what would happen to the ranch ifIchose to leave behind the lifeI’vealways known,Ishut off the water and grab a towel.Irun it over my hair to keep it from dripping, and then secure it around my waist.WhenIwalk into the kitchen to grab a soda from the fridge,IseeEvansitting on my sectional.It’sdark except for the dimly lit lanternIhave sitting next to the television.Heprobably doesn’t even noticeI’mbehind him.
ItisSunday, soI’mcurious why he’s not at the house withRachel.
“Hey, little brother.”
Evanturns, and it’s then thatIsee the bottle ofJackIkeep on top of the refrigerator.It’sopen and sitting next to a shot glass on the coffee table.
“Hey,” he mutters before pouring and downing a shot of whiskey.
Ijoin him and sit down on the sectional. “What’swith the shots?”
