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“And also worth about a quarter of a million dollars.”

I nearly choked. “Are you fucking kidding me? For these things?”

“They’re also nearly impossible to get these days,” Oscar continued. “Which means he would have never left them behind if he didn’t plan to come back.”

I frowned. “What do you mean?”

“Well, the brand shut down over a decade ago, which makes those jeans vintage and super rare—”

I rolled my eyes. “Not about the pants. What do you mean about Richard?”

Oscar sighed. “No one with any taste or love of fashion would abandon an original pair of Dussaults. He’s planning to come back. Trust me. It may pain me to do so, but if there’s anything I have to give Richard credit for, it’s his fashion sense.”

My heart beat as wildly as hummingbird wings. I’d assumed Richard had left without a word because he was done with me—done with this place. Now Oscar was giving me hope. “You think he’s coming back?”

I could practically hear him shrug. “The question you need to be asking is, ‘Are you going to let him get away?’”

The answer was immediate and obvious. Of course I’m not.

I realized, though, that was my heart talking. My head wasn’t so sure. I fell back onto the bed, still staring at his clothes in the closet. The ridiculously expensive jeans, the garishly colorful shirts, the wholly inappropriate shoes. “Maybe I should. Maybe he’d be happier.”

“I thought you said he was happy there. With you.” There was no judgment in Oscar’s voice.

I snorted. “I thought you and I would be happy together once too, and look how that worked out.”

Oscar let out a long breath. “First, because of your delicate emotional state, I’m going to ignore any insinuation in your previous statement that Richard and I are alike in any way. Second, you know damn well why you and I didn’t work out. Lord knows you remind me often enough when I have what you so unflatteringly refer to as my maudlin moments.” He sniffed delicately.

“Yeah, because I’d never have been happy living in the city, and you shine too bright to ever be happy living on a ranch. You always did.”

Oscar sighed like I was being obtuse. “No, Boone. It was because we wanted different things in life.”

I didn’t see any distinction between our answers. “That’s what I said.”

He laughed, but there was a wistful edge to it. “We never would have worked together because you wanted the ranch more than you wanted me. And I wanted to make a life in the city more than I wanted you.”

I winced. “Way to be brutally honest.”

I could practically hear Oscar roll his eyes through the phone. “Way to miss the point of what I’m trying to tell you. It wasn’t geography that made us break up, Boone. I shine bright in the city because I’m doing what matters most to me. If being together had mattered most to both of us, we would’ve found a way to make it work.”

“Oh.” I frowned.

“We didn’t want it enough. But if you want it with Richard, and he wants it too… you’ll find a way to make it happen.”

He made it sound so easy when it wasn’t. “So what happens if I convince Richard to give us a shot and he ends up changing his mind? You’re the one who said he could never commit to anything.”

“Well, true. But I’m also the one who said he was lazy and entitled and would be packing his bags after two days of shoveling shit. Turns out, according to you, I was wrong. So maybe I don’t actually know Richard all that well after all, and you shouldn’t be listening to me when it comes to what Richard will or won’t do.”

He had a point. The Richard I’d gotten to know over the past few weeks wasn’t anything like the man Oscar had initially described.

“Trust me, I, more than anyone, am surprised to find myself in the position of asking you this question, but I feel that I must. Are you in love with Richard?”

It was a question I’d been avoiding. It seemed impossible to be in love with someone after knowing them for such a short time. There was so much about Richard that I didn’t know. But I wanted to know it. I wanted to know all of him. Richard was color and life and joy. When I pictured a future without him, everything seemed gray and meaningless.

“I think I might be,” I admitted.

“Then why aren’t you packing?” Oscar asked gently.

My throat tightened. “Because I’m busy panicking. What if he doesn’t love me?”

“But what if he does? Someone once told me, ‘Keep putting your heart out there, and eventually, the right person will grab it and keep it safe for you.’ So put your heart out there, Boone.”

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