Page 112 of Lassoed Love

“I’m used to the sun out here. You need it more than I do,” I drawl, a mix of protectiveness and casualness in my tone. As we continue along the path, my gaze keeps drifting towards Isla, and I can't help but wonder when caring for her became such a natural thing. The hat perched slightly too big on her head adds a touch of charm, and it’s a sight that makes my heart stir. We’re surrounded by the tranquillity of nature, the crunch of gravel beneath the horses'hooves, and the soft rustling of leaves overhead.

The sun casts a warm glow on everything, and in that moment, I realise how much I’ve missed these shared silences, these stolen glances, and the quiet connection that binds us.

Isla catches me staring, and a blush creeps up her cheeks. Breaking the tranquil silence, she sighs. “We should talk... no, weneedto talk.” Her voice falters, carrying a weight that matches the seriousness of her words.

“Yeah,” I respond, my tone serious yet soft. “There’s a lot we need to sort out.”

The horses plod along the trail, seemingly attuned to the tension between us. As we ride side by side, I steal glances at Isla, uncertainty lingering in the air like an unspoken promise.

Isla’s grip on Duchess’s reins tightens, her knuckles almost white. There’s a hesitant energy between us, as if the words are eager to escape but fear the consequences.

“I’m sorry, Xavier,” Isla finally says, repeating her earlier sentiment, breaking the silence. “Fuck, I sound like a broken record. I—I never meant to hurt you.”

I glance at her, taking in the sincerity etched across her face. “You did, though,” I admit, my voice low. “You hurt me, Isla.”

“I know, and I hate myself for it,” she confesses, her eyes searching mine for understanding. “But I need you to know it wasn’t about you. It was about me, about my fears and insecurities.”

Her words hang in the air, and for a moment, I feel a pang of sympathy for her pain. But the frustration and hurt override it.

“Fears and insecurities? What do you mean?” I retort, my voice betraying the mix of anger and hurt. “I thought I had made it clear that I wasn’t leaving your side. I never wanted to leave you, but you made it real clear.” My voice falters, a surge of vulnerability breaking through.

“How do you expect me to help you, to be there for you when you shut me out?”

Isla’s eyes well up with tears, and she takes a deep breath before responding, “I know, Xavier. I messed up. I let my own issues cloud my judgement. I was scared of burdening you with my problems, scared that I would drag you down with me. I thought pushing you away was the best thing for both of us.”

My jaw tightens, processing her words. The silence stretches between us, the weight of unspoken emotions settling heavily on our shoulders.

I run a hand through my hair, a mix of frustration and understanding bubbling within me.

“You didn’t burden me, Isla. You shutting me out hurt more than anything else. I wanted to be there for you, to help you carry whatever weight you were carrying. But you decided for both of us, and that hurt.” My gaze softens, my anger giving way to a deep sense of longing.

I run a hand through my hair, a mix of frustration and sadness settling in. “Isla, you’ve got to understand that I’ve seen you at your worst, and I’ve stood by you. I never saw it as a burden. I wanted to share everything with you—the good and the bad.”

I sigh. “Still do.”

In my mind, I’m grappling with the realisation that I care for her deeply, love her, so fucking deeply. The depth of my feelings is almost overwhelming, but I know she’s not ready to hear those three words. That piece of shit ex-boyfriend did a real number on her, and I want to make things right. I want to assure her that I’m here for her, no matter what.

Isla finally looks up, “Xavier, I want totryto fix things between us. I know it won’t be easy, but I want to give us a chance.”

A wave of relief washes over me. “I want that, too, princess,” I respond, a soft smile playing on my lips, “but we have to be honest with each other, communicate better. No more shutting each other out.”

She nods, a determined glint in her eyes. The path ahead may be uncertain, but we’ve taken the first step toward healing.

We share a brief, understanding smile, acknowledging the unspoken agreement to face the challenges ahead together. I clear my throat.

“How’s your father?” I ask cautiously, breaking the silence.

Isla’s expression softens, a mix of gratitude and concern. “Things have remained the same,” she begins, her voice measured. “But they’ve weaned him off the anaesthesia. The plan is to eventually allow him to regain consciousness. He’s stable for now,” she adds, exhaling as if lifting a weight off her shoulders.

As she exhales, Isla continues, “Thank you for visiting him, Xav. I know you’ve been coming in to see him,” she says with an empatheticsmile.

I freeze, shock coursing through me. How did she find out? My mind races with self-admonishment.It’s a small town, you dickhead, I chastise myself internally. Obviously, she’d find out sooner or later. My bet is the nurses.

I huff out a laugh. “Guess my undercover skills are pretty shit, hey?”

“Yeah, I guess so. Maybe you need to take a page out of Brad’s book, learn a thing or two about being a police officer or an undo,” she suggests with a wink.

I laugh at her remark, tipping my head back. She giggles, and I can’t help but revel in the sound.

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