Page 10 of Something Tangled Something True
Chapter Six
SINS PAID IN KIND
FRIDAY, APRIL 25
It’s beenthree days since I got home from my fishing trip to find Lola living on the ranch as if we were in high school all over again.
And just like back then, I can’t keep my mind right when she’s around. Just knowing she’s here, within walking distance, where I could finally wrap my arms around her and kiss the life out of her, has my heart threatening to explode in my chest.
She’s still the prettiest sight I’ve ever laid eyes on; time and distance has never changed that.
I’ve spent my entire life in what I consider the most beautiful place in the world. I’ve been surrounded by wildflowers horticultural enthusiasts pay hundreds of dollars to get a glimpse of each year, sunsets that could rival the brightest rainbow in their intensity and complexity, and a sky full of bright, twinkly stars thanks to the low light pollution out this way. And still, Lola Lima is so stunning, each of those dim to nothing more than a grayish hue in her presence.
With her parents both living on the ranch, it isn’t like we hadn’t spent almost every major holiday together until lastyear, when her fiancé refused to join us,again, and instead, demanded Lola spend the holidays with his family. I have no reason to bethisblinded by her beauty, but I am. She usually just drops by like a bat out of hell, and just as soon, she’s gone again, leaving me yearning for more of her time and attention in any way I can have it. I know I’m partially to blame for her absence, avoiding conversations with her out of respect for Lemmon and likely making her uncomfortable, even if it damn near killed me.
Part of me admits I never loved Lemmon the way I had Lola. I only stayed with her to keepmetied down so I wouldn’t do the same to Lola, fearing I’d chase after her and ruin everything she’d been working toward. And I realize how terrible a person that makes me. The thought eats me up inside.
Maybe I never deserved Lola either.
When Logan died, it gutted me, but more than that, it made me question everything I’d known about myself. I’d quit playing football for good, something I’d been planning to do anyway, but without the physical outlet it had provided, I’d needed Lola by my side more than ever. She’d just gone off to Dallas, living out her dream, and I was determined to keep her out so she wouldn’t come running back to pick up my broken pieces like I knew she would. Whether it was by chance or not, I’m no longer sure, but Lemmon went to the same state college as I had, and having a familiar face to speak about Logan with was a comfort I desperately needed at the time.
It wasn’t until Lola returned home for winter break my senior year that she’d gotten to truly see how devastated I’d been, and overhearing me speaking with Lemmon about it was the nail in the coffin I hadn’t seen coming. It wasn’t until Mayte verbally kicked my ass andliterallybeat me with her flip-flop after we’d eloped that I’d found out Lemmon had bullied Lola in our childhood. I hadn’t realized just how bad her torment could be until I’d lived it. I married her after years of an on-again, off-again relationship that was never meant towork out, sticking around through the gaslighting and manipulation that only worsened as my resolve to repair our relationship plummeted. In the end, I finally chose myself for once, and it breaks my heart to know that Lola hadn’t been as happy as I’d hoped. She was off to do bigger, better, more interesting things with her life than work on a ranch for the rest of forever. I don’t think this is a bad life. Hell, Ilovethis life. But I’d be lyin’ if I said having Lola here wouldn’t make my days a million times better.
I’ve spent a decade paying for my sins with Lemmon, and I think it might be about time I quit begging myself for forgiveness and work toward earning Lola’s trust the way I always should have. I just need to avoid crawling on my knees and begging her to stick around. Surelythatwould have her up and out of here in a flash.
Chapter Seven
LIKE SOMETHING YOU SEE?
FRIDAY, APRIL 25
“And you’re absolutelycertain there’s no other option?” I ask for the tenth time today, pleading for a chance that this insurance salesman will have a different answer for me than the last nine.
“I really am very sorry, Miss, but as I said, the open enrollment period is closed until November, and we don’t have any plans that meet your needs and fit your budget without an employer package. I wish I had better news for you,” the agent says, his tone earnest and sincere.
“Okay,” I choke out, tears welling in my eyes before I can blink them away. “Thank you for your time.”
I end the call, the phone heavy in my hand, and a wave of restlessness crawls under my skin, defeat gnawing at me from the inside.
I’m grateful I’m here and not the alternative, but being in a small town has its downsides. The thing about Hidden Valley is everyone knows me, and while the urge to get out of the house is suffocating—the need to clear my mind and escape the heavy weight of impending doom caused by my ex-fiancé’s radio silence—I can’t shake the dread of runninginto anyone who’ll ask too many questions and make a fuss over my return. I want to avoid those encounters, if only for one more day.
All I want to do is move, but everything hurts, so going for a ride or a walk is out of the question right now.
My aching joints act as an unfriendly reminder that, sometimes, doing the right thing comes with a price. Like, you know, leaving your fiancé at the altar because you’ve finally come to terms with the fact that he’s an all-around shit human being. It turns out, all those times he made you feel as though you were only marrying him for decent health insurance were, in fact, true. And then you realize maybe you arealsoa shit human being.
Or maybeyou’re just in pain, so much pain that you convinced yourself you loved him, that he loved you.
I slump against the kitchen counter, marveling at the field of wildflowers and the cloudless sky through the small bow window above the sink, and sucking in a deep, steadying breath. My lungs fill with the familiar scent of the incenseMamiburned last night, and it helps to steady me.
It’s a beautiful day outside, and I want nothing more than to be out there right now with the horses, the wind in my hair, but the idea of moving anything is just too painful.
“¿En qué tú piensas?” Mayte’s voice startles me upright as she asks what I’m thinking about. When I realize it’s just her, I slump against the counter again.
“Just wish I could be outside, moving,” I tell her, shaking my head in frustration. Mayte bumps me out of her way, grabbing a grocery bag from under the kitchen sink before making her way to the small white refrigerator my parents refuse to upgrade.
“Feeling like hell, huh?” she asks, her soft, honey-brown eyes seeing right through the walls I try to put up as she fills her bag withmalta.
“You stealing fromMami?” I ask, and she levels me with a glare.
