Page 61 of Since Day One

“She thought you’d already told me,” I muttered as he stared at his half eaten food.

“Why would she even bring that up?” he growled in frustration.

“We were just casually talking about how close you and Ruger are, and she mentioned it,” I hesitantly replied.

“It wasn’t her place,” he snarled, his fingers tightening around the plate.

“She thought I already knew. It’s not her fault,” I replied, my voice quivering. This had been the wrong choice; being mad at him or just ignoring it altogether would’ve been the way to go, but I thought this had been the mature thing to do. The right thing to do.

Gunnar stood up so rapidly the chair flipped over behind him, and he disappeared into the house, leaving me completely alone. I stared at the dying embers, biting back the tears that were ready to crash down my cheeks. Telling him this shouldn’t have driven a wedge between us—that’s what would’ve happened if I’d kept it a secret and let it fester. I thought this was the right choice. But apparently, ignoring it would’ve been the best route to go.

Not this.

Not like this. I slowly rose to my feet and picked Gunnar’s chair back up, eventually making my way into the lodge and disposing of my plate and utensils. My family’s eyes were on me as I made my way out of the kitchen and into the sitting room. Jesse was lounging on the enormous leather sectional with Ruger, talking quietly in front of the crackling stone fireplace. But there was no sign of Gunnar.

Quietly walking away from the living room, I made my way up the stairs toward his home. When I made it to the top landing, I glanced at the row of boots and found all of them there. So, I knocked and waited.

Nothing. No footsteps on the other side of the door, not a sound.

I knocked again. “Gunnar?” I asked through the wood that separated us. Once again, I was met with silence. A painful silence that was feeling as empty and broken as I was.

Defeated, I shoved my hands in my pockets and made my way back down the stairs. Slowly, hoping that if I took long enough, Gunnar would open the door. As I rounded the corner and emerged at the bottom, I froze.

Staring at me was the man himself.

He glared at me, one foot on the bottom stair, with a bottle of whiskey in his hand. “What the hell are you doing?”

Everything in me broke for a second time in one day. Man, this day just wouldn’t end. The choice to tell him immediately had made him mad. He was so angry at me, and all I’d tried to do was make sure the little time we had left held no pain.

My mouth opened and closed like a fish out of water several times, but I was unable to speak. He shook his head, disappointed.

“You think you can just go wherever you’d like now?” he snarled.

The tears I’d been shutting out slipped silently over the brims. “I just wanted to talk,” I managed to stutter out.

“I don’t,” he snapped and stomped up the three stairs to where I was standing. His breath was already rank with alcohol as he hovered over me.

I shrank back against the wall. “I-I-I’m really s-s-sorry,” I squeaked in fear. He just stared at me with cold, blank eyes.

“I didn’t mean to make you mad,” I whispered, and then ran down the last few stairs, my vision blurry as I attempted to control the waterworks that seemed to be a frequent companion lately.

My shoulder crashed against another body as I rushed toward the door, but I didn’t bother to look at who it was. Mumbling an apology, I grabbed the doorknob and twisted, cold air rushing over me as I heard Jesse shout at Gunnar. “What did you do?”

The door slammed shut behind me. I didn’t watch where I was going, didn’t care who was around as I clutched my chest and aimlessly ran.

My feet took me to the arena. Why, I wasn’t sure, but I threw open the door and stumbled in out of the cold and snow. Dusting off the small flakes that were clinging to my coat, I stared at the empty and dark space around me. So hollow, so quiet. The roof overhead groaned with the breeze every so often as I tugged my coat a little tighter around my body and wandered further into the building.

Obviously, it was a painful topic for him to talk about, that I could relate to. But my intent had not been to make him upset, only to let him know I knew, and hopefully open that gate for a discussion. If he hadn’t wanted to talk about it, I would’ve understood that too.

Making my way up the bleachers, I sat down in the corner and huddled against the metal frame. The cold bit me to my core—the arena wasn’t as warm as usual, but I knew why. I tucked my chin against my chest, considering returning to the bunkhouse. But that would lead to a bombardment of questions, especially since everyone had been asleep last night and hadn’t had the chance to ask me anything yet.

“I’m so sorry, Gunnar,” I whispered to no one, and curled into my corner, dozing off into a fretful, unrestful sleep that I wasn’t even sure I could count as sleep.

Chapter 22

Overhead fluorescent lights flashed on, pulling me from my corner, and I sat up as hoofbeats and low chatter entered the arena. Rob and Carsen brought in several horses, leading them into different sections on the hot walker without noticing that I was there. Quietly, I sent a text to Kurt to let him know about Emily and stepped down carefully from the bleachers, not wanting to be here when Gunnar showed up. The lodge would hopefully be empty by now with a little bit of leftover breakfast available.

I slipped onto the ground, walking silently as Rob and Carsen loaded the last horse. They turned around to head back to the open garage door that I was making a beeline for, lost in conversation so they didn’t notice me. Just as they went to pass through, Gunnar appeared around the corner on Luke and stopped. He greeted the two hands with a simple grunt. From where I stood, I easily saw the heavy, dark bags under his eyes as he dismounted.

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