Page 52 of Rewrite Our Story

I expect her to leave the moment I put the truck in park in the driveway. She doesn’t. It’s even worse, she stays and turns her body to face mine.

I don’t look at her. Ican’tlook at her. If I do, I might tell her she could keep on lying if it just meant I could have one more happy moment with her. If even for a few seconds we could pretend that shit hasn’t gone up in flames between us.

“Cade,” she whispers, my name coming out like a plea on her lips.

My hand brushes over my mouth as I still avoid looking at her. “What?” I bite.

“I’m sorry.”

“You’re going to have to elaborate on what.”

“Forget I said anything,” she responds, pushing the door open and hopping down onto the concrete.

I open the door, clearly unable to just fucking let things go with her. “Say what you want to say, Mare!” I yell.

She stops in the driveway, spinning on the heels of her cowboy boots to look at me. “I think I’d rather not. You just called me a coward and told me you didn’t want to be near me. It was stupid of me to say anything after.”

I lied. I do think she’s being a coward, but I always want to be near her. That’s the fucking problem. “What are you sorry for, Goldie?” I press.

There’s a lot of distance between us, but when our eyes connect it feels like we’re chest to chest. “I’m sorry for making things complicated for you,” she finally answers.

Her words catch me off guard. They weren’t what I was expecting. I figured she’d apologize for acting like she didn’t remember, or maybe even for stopping our kiss. I wasn’t expecting this. “Complicated?”

“Yes, complicated. I shouldn’t have kissed you, Cade. It hasn’t been long since your mom and god, I know I should’ve been strong and resisted you because the last thing you need is for me to make things more complicated for you. So I’m sorry.”

I’m so stunned by her words that I don’t speak. Her denying us is complicated. In fact, the only thing that is clear and makes sense in this fucked up world I’m living in right now is her.

But clearly she doesn’t see it that way. And I’m not going to sit here and try to convince her otherwise. With a resigned sigh, I turn away, not wanting to exchange another single word with her.

I’m tired of speaking. I’m tired in general. And I know that crawling into my bed alone tonight will mean another sleepless night without her by my side.

Turning around, I angrily yank the hat off my head and shove it into her chest.

She looks at me confused, two tiny creases forming on her forehead. “Call us complicated all you fucking want if that’s what makes you feel better. But stop pretending that, at times like this, we aren’t exactly what we need for one another. It’s always been that way.”

I leave her standing there, my hat clutched to her chest as I get in my truck.

She knows how I feel. What I want. It’s up to her to decide how to proceed.

28

MARE - PRESENT

The sun peeksthrough my window, bringing attention to the fact that I spent almost all night writing. I slept for a few hours before waking up and feeling the need to keep writing.

Inspiration hit the moment I stepped into my bedroom and inspected the hat Cade handed me in the driveway. I was about to get rid of it somewhere when something caught my eye.

It was a photo tucked inside the seam of the ball cap.

I peek over at the photo and hat sitting next to me at my desk. They’d been next to me the entire night as words flew from my fingertips. Because of them, I suddenly felt inspired.

And it was Cade Jennings—even when he’s furious with me—who was the inspiration for my words.

I pick up the photo, holding it out carefully in front of me.

It’s a picture of me.

I’d forgotten all about the photo. He’d taken it one of the many nights we’d escaped to our special spot, and I never saw it again.

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