Page 5 of Even if It Hurts

But right then, those hands were clenched into fists as he stared at me.

“Right, so, Jackson’s here,” Wren began as she quickly climbed into the UTV, one of her wicked grins slipping across her face. “I was coming to warn you but...well, it must have just slipped my mind.” She shrugged, her grin widening into something a little more taunting as she started the vehicle.

I was sure I deserved that and more but, at the moment, I kind of wanted to smack the smile off my sister’s face.

I watched her take off for the fields before meeting Jackson’s guarded expression, my stomach twisting because I knew I only had myself to blame for that look—for the distance between us.

Our parents had always been close, and his family’s ranch had been entwined with my family’s farm for generations. For as long as I could remember, we’d been best friends, and I’d fallen in love with him before ever fully knowing what love was. He was mine, and I was his, but I’d kept my secret from him too.

I’d justified it the first couple of years; telling myself I was omitting—not actuallylying. But I’d known that was just to ease my guilt, even though he’d never asked about school since that had always been a sensitive subject with us. And whenever I’d tried easing us into a conversation that would lead to me confessing everything, he’d make a comment that had me biting back the rest of the words.

The truth was, I’d kept it from Jackson because I was afraid he wouldn’t understand—that he’d put an end to my newfound dream. I was afraid he’d be angry that I was changingourplans.

Because for years, I had faithfully listened to every one of my parents’ plans for our farm. Jackson had helped them figure out how he and I would expand our pick-your-own blueberry farm and pumpkin patch by marrying it to his family’s ranch. And somewhere along the way, I would marryhim.

And I wanted to.

Marry Jackson, that is . . .

But I’d always felt like I was suffocating under the plans being made around me because I’d never wanted the life everyone expected me to step into. And now the man in front of me, staring at me with pale green eyes, felt like a stranger.

It wasn’t just the hurt and wariness of his expression. It wasn’t just the feet separating us when we were normally wrapped up in each other. It was six years of trying to catch each other between my courses and the demanding life of a ranch. Six years of trying to understand and forgive his increasing anger with me; knowing I was keeping things from him.

Things like school and wanting a different life for myself. Not to mention an unexpectedly bizarre encounter with a stranger and how the smallest kiss could resonate so profoundly.

Just when the silence between us started getting to be too much, Jackson jerked his chin to the side and said, “Your Aunt Ada showed up at the ranch about twenty minutes ago and told me I’d get in her car if I knew what was good for me.” One of his shoulders lifted. “She had her shotgun.”

I dragged my hands over my face as a stunned laugh burst from me. “I’m—I’m sorry.”

“It’s Ada,” he said as if that explained it all. “I’m used to it. Figured it wasn’t loaded anyway.”

“You still came.”

“Well, I knew she’d at least try dragging me by the ear,” he murmured. The beginnings of a smirk teased the corner of his mouth as he undoubtedly remembered one of the many times my great-aunt had done exactly that. Like when she’d caught us kissing in the barn when we were fourteen.

Jackson’s expression fell when he added, “Why, Lainey?”

“Jackson . . .”

“Me . . . you lied tome.”

“I know.” The words were little more than a whisper as I watched betrayal and pain flash across his handsome face, but I didn’t know what else to say.

I’d apologized dozens of times this weekend. I’d apologized a dozen more in the voicemails and texts I’d left him since.

Still, I found the words “I’m sorry” slipping past my lips before I started explaining myself for the umpteenth time. “I needed to follow?—”

“I know, Lainey,” he said with a harsh sigh. “But you never said a word to me about wanting to do anything with teaching, and suddenly it’s yourpassion?”

“I—that isn’t entirely true,” I cut in. “There were so many times I started telling you in the beginning. Itried...I kept asking what you would do if you didn’t have the ranch. And every time I mentioned how I loved teaching the kids and watching them learn during the field-trip-days here—how I’d like to do something like that—it always got laughed off, or you’d say something about how it was a ‘good thing my future was already set.’”

“Then you should’ve told me you meant it,” he snapped. “You shouldn’t have gone away to Tennessee under the pretense of learning more about a business you already know like the back of your hand just so you could putthisinto motion.”

“That isn’t what I did,” I argued over him, but he continued as if I’d never spoken.

“You shouldn’t have been living a lie with me.”

I reared back as if his words had been a physical blow and clutched at my uneasy stomach. “You think our life has been alie? Because I used to think we were so much bigger than school and these businesses.”

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