Page 87 of Colt
So I have to pick myself back up, and I have to try to make myself someone she deserves. I’m not there yet.
But what I can do is something my father never did. Try.
“I need to go fix something.”
“Yeah, you do,” Dallas says. “It’s about time.”
“Healing is a process,” I say. “And it takes longer than I’d like.”
But at least I’ve decided that I’m going to do it. At least.
Chapter Twenty
Allison
The night of the championship, Sarah sends me a petty text about the fact that Colt’s nemesis won the championship. But I don’t even feel gratified by that. I’m tired from a long shift at the hospital, and I’m waiting still for everything to get better. My heartbreak. Missing him.
It just isn’t.
I’ve been avoiding coming to family dinners. The fallout is exactly what I was afraid of.
It didn’t just affect my relationship with him.
It’s affecting my relationship with everyone.
But this is heartbreak, deep and real, and even though I know I’m going to be okay, even though I know my life has purpose outside of this man, it doesn’t make the pain just stop. It’s the strangest feeling. Because in many ways, I feel stronger. More certain of myself. Otherwise, I just feel… Gross.
I’m also surprised when there’s a knock on my apartment door at 10:30 at night, and I practically dive under my couch cushions with my phone, ready to call 911.
Then I hear his voice through the door.
“Allison? Please open the door.”
Colt.
I get up, my heart in my throat as I run to open it. “What the hell are you doing here? You gave me a heart attack. Is everyone okay? Gentry?”
My brother is always out doing something dangerous, and my first thought is for him and his safety.
“No,” he says. “I’m sorry. I should’ve called you. I should’ve texted you. But after the championship last night, I was just focused on getting home as quickly as I could.”
“Did you drive?”
“I did. I had to get back. I had to get to you.”
“I know that guy you hate won.”
Colt nods. “Yeah. He did. And I didn’t really care that much. You know what, neither did he. I watched him win, and I watched it be hollow.
He’s the same asshole.
The same asshole that I’ve always thought he was. Just a winner.”
He looks haunted, hunted. Sad. “It doesn’t change you,” he continues. “I know that stuff, I do. But somewhere deep inside of myself, I was counting on a magic potion. To fix me. To make me feel like enough. I decided that it was the rodeo. I decided it was the championship. Because that’s where my dad was. And it was like everything in my life had to go on hold until I won that. Until I proved that I was worth something. Then I fucked my leg up, and everything got twisted and bent out of shape, including me. It felt like being with you was…”
He sighs. “I don’t know, like maybe I could, but not until I prove that I was worthy. But I’m never going to feel worthy. Ever. That’s… Childhood trauma for you, I guess. So I just have to beg you to be okay with me. I’m not perfect. Hell, I’m sofar from it I… I screwed everything up with you. Absolutely everything. I hurt you, I… God, Allison. I am so sorry for everything that I did. Everything I didn’t do. All of my own stuff that I projected onto you. It was wrong.”
I feel like I’m going to break apart, and I can tell that he is too. His hands are shaking. His whole body is shaking.
