Page 17 of Riding Jamie

Oakley, my girl, the love of my life, just…standing there. She’s on the steps leading to the lobby doors, and she’s so gorgeous it’s painful when I see the smile on her face. It’s almost nine here, although my body still thinks it’s only seven, and my heart clenches in my chest at the sight of her.

And then it stops entirely, dropping straight down to the pit of my stomach, when the tunnel of my vision widens enough to realize that she’s smilingatsomeone. Someone who’s standingtoo close to her, who’s tucking a strand of her hair behind her ear and bending down closer to her.

Someone who’s kissing her.

My mind goes blank in time with my vision, horror and disgust and earth-shattering pain slamming into me. I think I make some kind of noise, and I vaguely hear the cabbie ask if I’m alright, but I have no idea how to answer that question.

Oakley’s never left me feeling like this, not even when I was watching her walk away from me that night, not when I watched her mom’s car speed off, not the first time I broke down panicking with the thought that I may really never see her again. A shaky, humorless laugh falls from my lips as I stare wide-eyed at my own hands where they tremble between my knees. Throwing up doesn’t sound like such a bad idea anymore.

I remember feeling this way at my mom’s funeral. It’s the same world-ending ache, the same desolate, broken emptiness.

The same loss.

“Um,” I choke out, uncaring of the raw agony in my voice or the tears welling in my eyes, “can you take me back to the airport, please?”

The cabbie is silent for a long moment, and I want to crumple in on myself at the thought of a stranger knowing, of being so obvious and completely ruined that anyone can see what I’ve lost. He doesn’t say anything before I feel the car start to move again, and I’m powerless to stop myself from breaking down in tears.

They burn hot lines on my cheeks, and I see the same bright lights we passed just moments ago flash over my closed eyelids. It feels like mockery, the glamor and excitement of it all.

I want to be sick. I want to lash out at someone, anyone—myself, most of all. I’m shaking, but I almost can’t even feel it. My entire body is numb, too hurt to process it. It’s like gettinghurt at the rodeo, but this already feels worse than getting gored ever could, and the shock of it hasn’t even worn off yet.

I’ve been so certain that I could get Oakley back, that I prove to her that I’m worth waiting for. I’m not anything special, and I don’t have money or connections like her family does, but I swore that I’d take care of her. I swore I’d be someone she could be proud of, someone who would deserve to put a ring on her finger. Did I really lose my last chance?

Did I lose Oakley for good?

She’s probably already dating someone else.

I want to scream in pain, in fury, in heartbreak. God damn Savannah Ward, of all people, for being right. I don’t want to hear her cruel, mocking voice in my head right now, but as images of that guy leaning down to kiss the love of my life flash behind my eyes, all I can hear is those words. Oakley deserves better than some no-name idiot who can barely even manage to win a few stupid buckles.

I don’t know what to do with my life if I’m not doing it for her. Oakley has always been my motivation, the light at the end of every tunnel. There’s no point in me going back to the circuit if I won’t be using the money I win to take care of her, but I’m still not good at anything else.

I’ll look like a fucking idiot showing my face back home, anyway. Running off after the love of my life only to come back brokenhearted and without purpose.

Oakley moved on.

She left me behind, and I’m going to be nothing more than a thing of the past for her. I’ll never get over her, and she’ll move on with her life. I’ll be a mediocre bull rider and work on the ranch with my dad, and she’ll be incredible at anything she decides to do.

I’m going to be nothing but a footnote in her history, and there won’t be a day in my life when I don’t think about her.

Chapter Nine

OAKLEY

“This isthe prospective investor list for the Midwest expansion that you asked for,” I say, sliding the stack of papers across my uncle’s desk. It takes him a moment to look away from his computer screen, his glasses sliding another half inch down his nose when he shifts. The bags beneath his eyes look even worse than my own.

“Thanks, Oakley,” he says with a tight smile. He flips through the papers before glancing up at me, his brows furrowed in confusion. “Did Shane look over this? I don't see anything from him in here.”

I carefully hide my wince at the mention of his name, shuffling my feet awkwardly.

“He was busy when I tried to show him, so I figured I should just give it to you.”

The truth is that I can hardly stand to show my face in front of him since the disastrous attempt at a date. I’ve been dodging him for nearly two weeks at this point, doing my best to keep things as professional as I can manage while also keeping my distance.

It’s been…rough.

I stay as far away from him as I can manage unless my uncle is watching. It’s easier to avoid him if I close my door and my blinds, but I feel like a coward for hiding from him. He tried to apologize the day after, but I ran off with my tail between my legs, and things have been tense and awkward between us since. I don’t think either of us know how to navigate a professional relationship after I so thoroughly ruined any chance of a romantic one.

He’s been perfectly polite every time I see him, but we don’t joke around anymore. I feel like I’m waiting for him to get mad at me, even though he’s proven that he won’t take it out on me. It would be so nice if things could just go back to the way they were before, but I don’t think that’s possible anymore.

---