Page 3 of Protecting Her Secrets

“Skylar? Baby, we have to get up.”

My eyelids feel like sandpaper as I blink them open and sit up, throwing my legs off the side of the bed. I focus on the cheesy painting hanging on the wall to stop the world from spinning and then look down at my phone. It’s ten in the morning, but we didn’t get back to the hotel until five, where we proceeded tohave drunken sex until six, meaning we only got four hours of sleep—not enough to sober me up.

Spotting a bottle of water on the nightstand, I ignore the hotel’s note announcing the ten-dollar price tag should I choose to drink it and twist the cap off. My mouth is dry, and I feel like every ounce of hydration in my body has been sucked out. I chug all eight ounces, wishing there was another.

“Skylar, you gotta wake up.” I look over my shoulder, expecting to see blonde curls spread across the pillow and my girlfriend curled into a tight ball, her preferred sleeping position. But she’s not there. Maybe she’s already up and showering. I drag myself to my feet and shuffle to the bathroom, finding it empty as well.

She probably went downstairs to get us coffee and breakfast, but then I notice her luggage is gone. Even through my drunken fog, I know my worst fear has come true. She’s gone. My hangover takes a back seat to worry as I rush back to the bed and yank my phone free from the charger, finding a text from her. I don’t click on it right away, my thumb shaking as it hovers over the words I know will change my life forever.

Walker, if I could have one wish, it’d be to spend the rest of my life with you. But wishes are magic, and magic is pretend. There are no fairy godmothers or genies in bottles—there’s only cold, hard reality, and that reality has finally caught up with us. It may seem like I’m taking the easy way out, but trust me: you’re getting the better end of the deal. After this, you’ll hate me and want to move on, but I’ll spend the rest of my life loving you, knowing I’m the reason we can’t be together.

My phone vibrates with another text just as I finish reading. It’s from Skylar, which pisses me off that right this second, she’s somewhere out there typing this bullshit to me.

When you’re ready, we can discuss an annulment or divorce. You know how to reach me.

What the fuck? We got married? It’s then I see a certificate and some legal-looking papers on her side of the bed. I pick them up and inspect them, trying to drum up some memory of filling them out because who forgets they got married? Apparently, me. Staring at our signatures on the license only adds to the destruction raging in my heart. This is what I always wanted, the one wish I knew would never come true, yet it’s right here in black and white.

I collapse onto the mattress, my forehead in my hands as I stare at the State of Nevada stamp that made us a family, something I had once but never thought I’d have again. Growing up, it was just me and Mom, but we were a great team. We took care of each other, and even though I didn’t have a dad, I never felt like anything was missing.

Then she married Mark, and I lost some of her attention, but it was okay because she was happy. It wasn’t until I was fifteen and they had their first baby that I started to feel pushed out of the family. By the time I turned eighteen, they had three young kids, and it became obvious I didn’t fit in.

Mom barely noticed I existed, and after I overheard a conversation between Mark and her about how they couldn’t wait until I moved out so their oldest could have their own room, I knew I didn’t have a home there anymore. My own mother’s rejection nearly had me throwing my life away, but Skylar pulled me through. She helped me enroll in college and even score some scholarships and grants.

Skylar became my family, and my goal has always been for us to have kids of our own someday. I was going to be the best dad; I was going to make sure my kids felt wanted, help them navigate through life. Skylar would’ve been the best mom, too. Her gentle and soft approach would give them somewhere soft to land. Every day for the last four years, that’s what I’ve been working toward.

Now, she’s gone, along with any chance I may have had at building a family.

I huff, pulling at the ends of my hair. All it took was a text and a piece of paper to ruin my life. That’s how little I had before, and now I have nothing, or at least I won’t once the marriage is annulled. I latch onto the fact that until that happens, Skylar is mine. She might have extricated herself from my life, but I have a legally binding contract that says we belong to each other.

I tuck the papers into my luggage, along with all my other shit, and leave the hotel—married but alone.

Chapter One

Walker

Fifteen years later.. .

I zip up my coveralls and tug on a beanie. With a click of my tongue and a flick of my chin, Sprocket jumps to his feet from where he’d been napping.

“You’re spoiled, you know that?” I scratch under his chin. “There are lots of dogs out there who don’t get beds in front of the warm stove.”

His tongue lolls out to the side as his head tips, listening for a word that means something to him. Unfortunately, there are only about a dozen or so of those, meaning he’s mostly just a big dumb animal. He’s a good companion though, and when there are times you don’t see another human for weeks, you need a companion to keep you sane.

“Come on, you big dope,” I say. “We need groceries.”

I pull on my gloves as I step outside, assessing the situation. Looks like only a foot or so of snow fell overnight, so I shouldn’t have a problem plowing. My bitches cluck as I near them, no doubt wanting some snacks, but first, I key in the code forthe small utility shed and grab the snow broom. Their trilling continues as I dust off the solar panel on top of the coop.

“You bitches are lucky too.” After returning the broom to the shed, I make quick work of filling the automatic waterer before stepping inside to make sure everyone’s okay. “Some coops don’t have heat, and those chickens have to keep themselves warm.”

Even though it’s a cold day and there’s a dusting of snow over their run, I open the door so they have the choice of going out. They look at me like I’m crazy and turn their backs. My goats make themselves known then by bleating at me, so I finish up in the coop and head over to their enclosure. There’s a layer of ice on their outside water bucket, so I grab a shovel and break that up before refilling the hay feeder.

Sprocket would usually take this time to fuck with the chickens and goats like the shit stirrer he is, but he’s worried I’ll leave him behind when I head down the hill, so instead, he follows me closely.

“I take it you wanna go with me to the store?” I ask him, and the idiot barks as he spins in circles, stopping to jump on me as we walk to the carport with my truck that’s fit with a plow. I open the door to the cab, but he just keeps spinning like the weirdo he is. “All right. Guess I’ll see you down there.”

I give the truck a minute to warm up before lowering the blade and taking off down the hill. Sprocket chases after me with what looks like a huge-ass grin on his face, which makes me smile in return. The only road to my property is part private drive, part public, but since I’m the only one who drives it and there’s a single city employee to plow all of Culver Springs, it’s only fair I plow the whole of it.

When I reach the end of the drive, I lift the blade and open the door to the cab. Sprocket jumps right in and lies down, tired from his miles-long sprint. Being a herding breed, he rarelytires, and when he does, it only takes about a half-hour nap to recharge. I wish I had half his energy.

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