Page 169 of We Redeemed the Rain

“Real love grows in spite of pain and fear.”

Could I have that? I was too afraid to even hope.

Jesse took a cleansing breath, his voice gaining strength. “I came out here to kick your ass into gear though. If you love Bea, you need to prove it by doing the first right thing. You need a proper diagnosis, coping methods, and healing therapy in order to live well. And you need to be honest about how deep you truly hurt. My guess is you’ve been masking it your entire life.”

I nodded, quietly submitting to his advice.

“I know it’s easier said than done. I’m not discounting the mountain you’d have to climb in order to do those things, but if Bea is worth it to you, you’ll at least try.”

I nodded again, helpless to do much else. There was so much to consider, I didn’t even know where to begin.

“She called me, by the way.”

My gaze snapped back to his face. “She did?”

“Of course she did, she’s worried sick. Why aren’t you calling her back and answering her texts?”

I swallowed against the lump in my throat. “I—was plannin’ on callin’ her.”

Jesse grew suddenly angry with me. “Cut the crap, Tag. We’re standing here, in the dead of night, talking honestly. I don’t want your load of bullshit.”

“I haven’t called because I can’t answer her questions! She’s gonna ask me questions I have no idea how to answer. I want her to know everything, but I can’t eventhinkabout what happened to me without feelin’ like I’m gonna die from the way my heart races.”

“Then call and tell her exactly that.”

I shook my head.

“Fine. Shake your head. But I’ll say this, if you aren’t willing to put yourself out there for her, you’ll be alone forever. You have every right to play the victim card if you want, but you also have the option to take a step towards healing and step toward a future that doesn’tmake you want to drink your existence away. That woman is gone for you, and you’d be an idiot to let her slip away because you’re afraid oftrying. If it were me in your shoes, I’d fight tooth and nail—pain be damned.”

He backed toward the truck. “But I’ll shut up now. I think I made my point plenty clear.” He waved across the trench with the toe of his boot, his shadow skittering over the gravel and dirt. “I’d offer to help you finish this, but love made me a father. I need to get back to my son.”

Gravel crunched beneath his feet again. When the truck door opened, I called after him. “Jesse.”

He turned.

“Thank you.”

He nodded once and disappeared.

Once again, I found myself writing through the night, working on my story, and writing out my thoughts that needed escape.

Jesse’s pep talk lit a fire under me. I realized I not only needed help, I wanted it. Even just learning some coping strategies could provide me with a better future.

If Laurel could heal, maybe I could too.

The next morning, I took Jesse’s advice and looked up an old friend.

Miss Simone.

She was a soul who had fought for me once. And I had no doubt she would again.

Her in-home office was a two and a half hour drive. I was desperate enough to not care about the lost time; I was useless on the ranch right now, anyway.

I stepped up to her olive green door and dropped the bronze knocker against hot metal.

Tap, tap, tap.

PART FOUR

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