Page 136 of When It's Us
Her jaw tightens, and her eyes,Jesus, those eyes that looked at me like I was worth something seconds ago, flash with something else now. Anger. Hurt.
She shakes her head, just once, like she’s trying to shake me off. “You’re right,” she says, her eyes flashing with anger. “They do deserve better, and so do I.”
And there it is. The knife I just handed her. I thought it would give me the control to find my way out. To get her out. And she drove it right in. Clean. Final. And fuck, it hurts.
Standing, I pull the pin and toss a grenade in her direction. “You should take them to Seattle. It’s what’s best for them.”
Her blue eyes search mine for a heartbeat…and I hate myself for the sob that racks her frame. She’s the one person in this world who made me feel like I could be more than just the town fuckboy, more than just an endless stream of mindless hook-ups and stupid jokes.
AndIbroke her.
I crushed her; I cut her down with one sentence. But if she hates me, then maybe she won’t come back. It’ll hurt her now, so I don’t hurt her worse later.
Still, I reach for her as another sob shakes her.
She jerks her hand back.
“Go fuck yourself, Hutch. You think just because you’ve had yourgiant fucking dickinside me, you get to make decisions about my life? About my boys’ lives?” Her voice cracks as she shoves me. “But you don’t.” She shoves me again with another gut-wrenching sob. “Fuck,” shove, “right,” shove, “off.”
Her words turn into sobs, and with each shove, she barely moves me, her strength fading with every push.
I can feel the sting in her words, sharp and deliberate—like she’s using the one thing we shared to wound me as deeply as possible. It’s brutal, but maybe that’s what we both need right now.
Still, it doesn’t stop me from wrapping my hands around both her wrists to pull her into me.
“I’m so fucking sorry, Cal—”
“No,” she bites out, yanking out of my grasp, hot tears coursing down her cheeks. “You don’t get to call me that anymore.”
She spins and rushes for the door. Before she opens it, she looks back over her shoulder, and the look in her eyes just about kills me. “You think you’re protecting us? You’re not. You’re protecting you. You’re a coward.”
The door slams behind her like a gunshot. But she’s not wrong. Hell, she’s never been more right. I am protecting her. And her boys. But I’m protecting me too. Because if Ginger really knew the me that I do, she could never really love me anyway.
Ginger
Theboyspracticallyvibratein their seats by the time we get to Hayes Ranch. Tate‘s got his face pressed against the glass in the backseat of Hales’ car. He’s so excited, which is funny because he’s usually always so subdued.
When I pull up next to the barn and park, it’s not lost on me that Hudson’s and Hank’s trucks are here, but Hutch’s is distinctly absent.
Unbuckling my seatbelt and climbing out of the car, I stretch and look around, hoping it looks like I’m not dying inside.
Wren appears on the porch and gives us a wave. Jordan and Tate both unbuckle and hop out of the car, excitement clear on their faces.
As Wren approaches, I paste a smile on my face and hope that she doesn’t recognize my puffy eyes and tired expression for what they really are—the eyes of a woman who sobbed herself hoarse in the shower last night.
The air around the barn smells like hay, and the breeze catches the hem of my sweater, making me shiver, though it’s warm today. Wren pulls me into a hug and then steps back, searching my face.
“You okay?” she asks with a squint.
I nod. “Yeah, just tired.”
She eyes me skeptically. “You sure? You look more than tired.”
“When you’re a single mom, you’re always tired.” I force a chuckle, grateful that she’s letting me off the hook for now. We’ll talk, but I…can’t right now and I love that she knows that.
Hank and Hudson come out of the barn with Apollo and Daisy saddled and ready to go.
The boys tear off toward the paddock.
