Page 76 of The Promises We Broke
The horse's ears flicked toward me, and he lifted his head from the grass long enough to give me what I could have sworn was an approving look.
"And she said it back," I continued, unable to keep the wonder out of my voice. "She actually said it back. After everything I did, everything I put her through, she still loves me."
Bullet moved closer, until he was standing directly in front of me. Over the past two months, we'd built this routine. Me talking through my feelings while he listened without judgment, offering the kind of steady presence that made vulnerability feel safe.
"The crazy part is," I said, reaching up to scratch behind his ears, "I think I might actually deserve it this time. Not because I'm perfect, God knows I'm not, but because I'm finally the kind of man who knows how to stay. How to fight for something instead of running from it."
The eastern sky was starting to lighten, painting the edges of the clouds with soft pink and gold. In a few hours, I was meeting Billie for lunch in town. Our first official date since the harvest festival, since the night she'd let me hold her and kiss her and tell her I wasn't going anywhere.
"I'm terrified," I admitted to the horse. "What if I mess this up? What if I'm not as different as I think I am?"
Bullet nickered softly, and I chose to interpret it as encouragement.
"You're right," I said with a laugh. "I can't control what happens. I can only control what I do about it."
The sound of footsteps made me turn. Dex was walking toward the pasture, two cups of coffee in his hands and a tired smile on his face that made me realize how little I'd seen of him lately.
"Morning, Dr. Dolittle," he said, offering me one of the cups.
"Very funny." I accepted the coffee gratefully, studying his face. There were shadows under his eyes that hadn't been there a few months ago. "You look like hell, man. I was starting to think you were avoiding me."
"What? No." Dex shook his head quickly. "Just been busy. Work at the garage has been picking up, and I've got this project I'm working on in the evenings and weekends. Haven't had much time for socializing."
"What kind of project?"
"Nothing exciting," Dex said, changing the subject so fast it was almost suspicious. "Just something I'm tinkering with. How's the patient today?"
He nodded toward Bullet, who was standing close to the fence, ears pricked forward like he was listening to our conversation.
"Wise as always," I said. "And a hell of a listener."
"Good quality in a therapist." Dex leaned against the fence, his expression thoughtful. "You look different."
"Different how?"
"Happy," he said simply. "Like you finally figured out that you're allowed to be."
I thought about that as I sipped my coffee. Was that what this feeling was? This lightness in my chest, this sense of possibility that had been growing stronger every day since the festival?
"I think I might be," I said quietly. "Happy, I mean. It's weird."
"Weird good or weird bad?"
"Weird unfamiliar." I paused, watching Bullet graze peacefully. "I don't think I've felt like this before."
Dex was quiet for a moment, and when he spoke, there was something almost wistful in his voice.
"You know, I'm jealous as hell of you right now."
I raised an eyebrow. "Jealous? Of what?"
"Of having someone like Billie Schulster look at you the way she does." He smiled, but it didn't quite reach his eyes. "Of getting a second chance with the love of your life. Don't mess it up this time, okay?"
There was something in his tone, not threatening, just... lonely. Like he was watching from the outside of something he wanted but couldn't have.
"Dex..."
"I'm serious, Gage. That woman's been in love with you since she was twelve years old. Anyone with eyes can see it. Don't screw it up because you're scared or because you think you don't deserve it."
