Total pages in book: 121
Estimated words: 113812 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 569(@200wpm)___ 455(@250wpm)___ 379(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 113812 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 569(@200wpm)___ 455(@250wpm)___ 379(@300wpm)
“Excited to be down there again.”
Beckett makes me smile even more. He’s pure joy, enthusiasm, and raw energy wrapped up in that little frame of his. “A full week this time?” There’s a pause in the conversation that has me adjusting the phone against my ear. “Tagger?”
“I’m here, babe, but I really can’t wait to be there with you.”
The little delays in responses make me wonder if I called at a bad time. “I can let you go if you’re busy.”
“I’m sorry. I have a meeting.”
My brain always shifts to the East Coast time zone when we talk. I know what time it is for him more than my own sometimes. “At eight o’clock at night?”
“My days have been busy, so I’ve taken care of stuff after hours.”
A chorus of crickets have gotten louder, so I plug my other ear. “Sounds like you’re ready to work a ranch. No days off, from sunrise to sunset, and no food delivery, which might be one of the saddest parts.”
“Tell me you ate today, Pris.”
“I ate today.”
“But did you really?”
Honestly, I haven’t been thinking about food much since he’s been gone. Sure, I make dinner with my dad, but it’s nothing special or noteworthy. “I’m about to. That counts, right?”
“I don’t know how you’re fueling yourself, but you need to. That’s hard work you’re doing day in and day out. Why aren’t you eating?”
“I like to stay busy so my mind doesn’t wander as much.”
The pause is long enough for me to walk out the back of the barn to catch the last of the sunset. I don’t fill in the space. I don’t have interesting things going on in my life. I’m just living day-to-day, trying not to focus on the hole left in my heart.
“Babe?” he says, his voice quieter as someone else might hear. “I’ll be there soon. You be ready for me, okay?”
“I’m ready,” I reply, more than ready to see him again.
“I love you.”
“I love you, too.” I tuck the phone in my back pocket and return to my final duties to wrap up for the night. When I walk toward the house, I see my brother over on the pasture’s fence. His eyes are aimed at the sunset, so he doesn’t see me coming.
I have stopped anyway, not sure if I’m ready to approach him. I dust my hands off and shove them in my front pockets. Better to go straight through the pain than linger around the edges. I mosey up next to him, setting my foot on the lower rail and resting my arms on the upper.
The sun dips just below the trees, but there’s still enough to expose the fissures in our relationship. “Visiting twice in a month?” I ask like it’s normal to see Baylor on the ranch. “What brings you by?”
Tilting his head down, he angles it sideways to look at me. “I’ve been a shitty brother to you, Pris.” Hearing that name feels wrong from his mouth, which is ironic since he’s the one who dubbed me Pristine to begin with. I don’t correct him, but moving forward, we need to agree on leaving it for only my boyfriend to say.
“I deserved better.” I can hear Lauralee’s words about giving him space and time to share his truths. I know he has some buried in there. Though it doesn’t mean I can’t still be mad at him for abandoning me.
“You did.” He turns to face me. “Did Tagger talk to you?”
“About?”
“We talked.”
I find relief that their relationship is intact. I know they both need their friendship. “He hasn’t mentioned it, but I’m glad to hear it.”
He nods and looks across the property. As if he has something he wants to get off his chest, he takes a breath, then exhales slowly. “I’m sorry.” I straighten my back, gobsmacked by those two little words. I try to close my mouth from catching flies when his eyes find mine again. “I’m sorry I left you to deal with the mess.”
“Why did you leave? You didn’t even say goodbye. You didn’t respond to my texts.” The buildup of years of frustration and hurt floats to the surface now that he’s brought up this topic. “Did you think the occasional text or photo of you living your best life was serving anything other than what you selfishly needed? You didn’t ask about me? You didn’t care.”
“I cared. I care about you.”
I hate that it’s so easy to make me cry. This conversation should have been had years ago instead of being repressed. My emotions were put on hold, waiting for him and Griff to act like I existed. Although a big part of my heart is waiting for Tagger to fill, hearing those four words seems to be all it takes to start feeling whole again.