Page 81 of Came the Closest

That’s What We Are

Colton

The rest of the night, I did my best to let go.

Let go of the gnawing feeling that Indi has an ugly side of her past that she’s hiding. Let go of my fears over Milo’s future; dancing with him until he couldn’t dance any longer. Let go of proper wedding etiquette when we, the Del Rays and the Bryants, traipsed down to the beach in our wedding attire.

Let go of the fear that has kept me from good and truly committing to Cheyenne for too many years.

I can’t do that without showing her how badly I want her in my life. Not as a friend, not even as my best friend, but as the woman I will love for the rest of my days. I need to prove I can be the man who doesn’t run when life hurts but rides it out even when he’s scared.

I have to take a risk that will alter my life irrevocably.

I let myself out onto the back deck of the lake house after Milo and the girls are in bed. My skin is still cool from the night swim, and my damp hair chills me as I hold my phone to my ear. My elbows rest on the railing, and my heart thuds loudly against my ribcage.

Travis answers on the second ring. “Please, for the love of all things good and holy, do not tell me you threw it all away by getting trashed at your brother’s wedding.”

“No.” In fact, I’m more sober than I’ve ever been, not just in relation to alcohol. “Far from it.”

“Oh no.” Even across the phone line and thousands of miles between here and California, I sense his apprehension. “Colton, it’s, what? Eleven your time?”

“Just past, yes.”

“Then you shouldn’t make any deci—”

“I’m done, Trav.”

On his end of the call, I hear city traffic and Meredith asking him who it is. Here, cicadas sing in the backyard and music drifts in from downtown on a southern breeze. I vaguely register the click of the sliding door behind me, but I don’t turn.

Heaviness lifts from my shoulders, letting relief trickle through my tired body. I’m tired from the day, certainly, but I’ve been fighting a much greater tiredness for a long time now. One that sinks well below the surface.

My body is tired of being relentlessly pushed and prodded and thrown from the backs of beasts. My mind is tired of the games that come with being a professional athlete, the constant ups and downs of winning and losing. My soul is tired of jumping from woman to woman and place to place, never having a safe haven to land in.

“Colton,” Travis says slowly, drawing my name out. “I don’t wear hearing aids because I’m only forty, but I think I might need them.”

“I second that statement,” Meredith hollers from somewhere in the background.

“You don’t need hearing aids,” I tell him.

“Colt—”

“That is the fourth time you’ve said my name in the span of two minutes. I think we’ve established who I am.”

Travis makes a strangled sound. “No, we haven’t. The Colton I know is a two-time world champion bull rider who is on a hiatus. Not…” His voice drops to a disbelieving whisper. “Not quitting.”

“Not quitting,” I agree. “Retiring.”

“You can’t—”

“I can,” I say firmly, “and I did. We’ll talk soon.”

I hang up before he can launch into a chastising spiel—one that would end with asking me to ride in Fort Worth next weekend. I do mean it; I’ll talk to him when I have more to say. Travis has been with me for the better part of my career, since the day he took a chance on that misfit teenage boy, and I’ll do right by him.

But I also have to do right by Cheyenne and Milo.

By myself.

I stare at the abyss of dark water, phone still in hand. Its screen illuminates the inky night, and my thumb rests a millimeter from the power button. I’m frozen, though, so I don’t press it. I don’t brush at the tear that crests my eye, or the one that rolls down to my chin. I feel everything and I feel nothing.

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