Page 29 of Marry Me, Maybe?
Hudson shifted his attention to Ozzie once more as if I hadn’t spoken. “I’ll be back to check on her around lunch,” he said, then looked over my shoulder. “Where’s Gray?”
“Cockburn,” I muttered. “Something about an emergency with a lawyer.”
More like rushing to get divorce papers lined up so he could get hitched to what I wasn’t convinced wouldn’t end up being Dad’s biggest mistake.
Hudson followed me. “Wasn’t he supposed to help with the fence today?”
“I’ll supervise,” I said flatly. “You’ve been working the ranch for four years. You’re not made of glass. Sure you can handle it.”
“Never said I was.”
“Mistah ’ustomer!” A high-pitched voice cut through the air behind us.
I stopped cold.
The knot in my stomach tightened.
Ivy stood in Ozzie’s arms, waving with all the confidence in the world. Beaming like she hadn’t just split me down the center without even trying. She remembered me from the bakery. I didn’t know how to react. Not when I felt sick to my stomach at how seeing this child affected me.
I didn’t turn. Didn’t wave. Didn’t smile.
Just kept walking.
Because if I looked at her too long, I’d start seeing the pieces of Hudson I used to love in her—his eyes, his grin.
And that would undo me.
Behind me, her voice faded into the morning air.
“Daddy? Why Mistah ’mer mad at Ivy?”
It gutted me.
I felt like someone had reached inside and yanked the guilt out by the roots.
She didn’t deserve that.
She didn’t know any better.
She didn’t know how to name complicated feelings. She didn’t understand that I wasn’t mad at her. I was furious at her daddy. Furious that he’d ruined something that could’ve been real. Something that might’ve lasted. And yeah, it had been four damn years, but I was still angry. Still bitter. Still not over it. Because I loved him so fucking much.
I clenched my fists, slowed in the dirt.
I should’ve turned back. Should’ve smiled. Said something kind. Something to take the sting out of her question.
But I didn’t.
Because I couldn’t look at her and not see the life Hudson built without me. The one I was never invited to. He hadn’t even given me a chance. Just found me unworthy right away.
So I put my head down and kept walking. Toward the broken fence.
Toward the work.
Because fixing wood was easier than fixing the mess inside me.
Hudson caught up in silence. Fell into step beside mewithout saying a word, and I hated that it felt awkward when it used to feel normal. Familiar. Like we used to be.
We rode together in the pickup down to the south fence line, me gripping the wheel tighter than necessary, him staring out the window with his arms folded like he didn’t trust what might come out of his mouth if he opened it.
