Page 22 of The Cost of Forgetting You

When he pulls back, a sad smile tugs at his lips, exposing the places he’s chewed them raw. “Part of me thinks you can.”

I don’t want my mind to go there, but it does. Imagining this same conversation a year from now, maybe five, in which I’m the one mourning someone who cannot be replaced. Reality snaps back into place like a rubber band. I step away, praying all the while that the memory of his skin against mine will fade quickly.

“I can’t.” My head shakes back and forth of its own volition. The tears are there, pressing against my eyes. I fight hard to blink them back. “But I loved your mom. I wish you’d told me.”

“Kinda hard to do when you blocked my number.”

I grit my teeth. “You could’ve found a way if you’d wanted to.”

We stand there watching one another. I wonder if he feels as exposed as I do, with all these secrets flying between us. Because now I know he tried to call. He had to, to realize he was blocked. Was it after the party that night? Or once I moved?

But I also showed my hand to him. And I can see in his eyes that he knows it. There was want in my words. Need. The two things I’m supposed to be keeping at a distance.

The standoff lasts a beat too long, with each of us willing the other to rip their confession wide open. But I’m not doing it. And apparently neither is he.

I finally let out a sigh, releasing the tension between us. “I came to talk to you about Roberta.”

His eyes are the pale gray of a rain cloud. That ball cap taps against his thigh. “Listen, I meant what I said before. Things are manageable right now, but they’re going to get hard. You’ll need her.”

I hear the unspoken and me that he wants to add. For both our sakes, I’m glad he didn’t.

Bile that tastes suspiciously like shame gets stuck in the back of my throat. I swallow it. “Roberta told me you’re the one who was going to pay for her. But that was before you knew I was coming back, and I can’t… I can’t afford her.”

“What”—a cocky smile brightens his face—“not servicing enough customers?”

“Don’t deflect with humor.” I plant my bare foot firmly on the ground. Grass be damned, I need to feel it. To anchor myself to something when I feel so beyond control. “I’m serious, Tru. We—I—will find another way. A more affordable option. But me owing you isn’t it.”

Hurt flashes in his eyes, that impish grin faltering.

My lungs ache with a deep inhale. The scent of his farm and the river and the magnolia blooms—it’s home. But it’s also pain. Something I’m realizing Tru knows more about than I thought.

“Listen, I know you’re doing this for your mom, but you’ve paid your debt, okay?” I swipe my arms, palms out. “You’re free.”

I half expect him to argue. To quip something smart. But he just stands there, stoic as his grandfather behind the pulpit, watching me. Sunlight hollows his tanned cheeks, casting shadows over his angular features. It touches him reverently, like it’s in on the secret. Truett Parker is someone who’s easy to adore.

I should know. It only makes it that much harder when he lets you down.

When he doesn’t object, doesn’t comment, I hum my agreement for both of us. Scooping up my soiled shoe, I give that patty a wide berth and start the long trek back to the house. I’m a good twenty feet away when I pause and turn, finding Tru exactly where I left him.

“One last thing.” I jab a thumb over my shoulder. “You don’t need to mow the lawn anymore.”

His gaze lifts from the hat in his hands. “Let me guess. You can do it on your own?”

I nod. A curt, jerky motion. “That’s right.”

A cow saunters over to the fence, swings her head over the top, and nuzzles his shoulder. Her dark black fur turns almost brown where the sun hits her flank. She’s petite compared to the others, with eyes like saucers of chocolate. Without releasing my gaze, Truett reaches back to scratch her neck. “I tell you what, Delilah. Roberta stays. I’m paying for her. There’s no getting around it.”

“Tru—”

He makes a noise low in his throat, two degrees shy of a growl, to let me know he wasn’t finished. “You won’t owe me a dime. I’m doing it for him. Not my mom, and not you.” The deep melody of his voice breaks. “I love Henry.”

My mouth snaps shut. A solemn hush falls over the field, as if even the wind is holding its breath for what comes next.

One strong, dusty hand combs back his hair before he replaces the cap on his head. “As far as the mowing goes, I’d love to see you try.” Warmth returns to his gaze as he scans my body, measuring me up but also lingering too long on the curve of my hips, the swell of my chest. When he finally meets my own stare, there’s a spark there that fills me with a delicious warmth, even from this distance. “Always nice to have some new entertainment around here.”

He takes a step in my direction, then another. Faster than I ever could, he closes the distance between us until he’s a breath away. A heartbreak within reach.

His chin dips, gaze darkening. “If you really want to pay me back, spend some time with me.” A grin curves those perfect lips, framed by a day’s worth of stubble. “We can play in the river like when we were kids.” One eyebrow quirks on the word play, sending all the heat in my cheeks due south. “Or I could cook you dinner.”

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