Page 146 of When It's Us
Wren calls or texts almost every day.
I lie and tell her I’m fine.
I hate it. I hate lying to the one person who usually sees right through me. But what else am I supposed to do besides keep moving forward?
A few weeks ago, I was falling for him.
Hell, if I’m being honest, I’ve probably been halfway in love with Hutch since Hank and Wren’s wedding. Since that night outside the barn. Since that first sarcastic smirk he threw across the reception.
We started this whole thing with a deal: no promises, no expectations, no messy emotions.
And I agreed.
So maybe I’m the asshole. Because even though I tried—God,I tried not to fall for him—I still did. I let my guard down. I let him in. I let him tear down walls I swore I’d never drop again.
The boys don’t really talk about him, and I guess they never got to fall for him like I did. But sometimes they bring up Montana like it was this shiny little adventure they want to go back to. So even though they didn’t get attached like I did, they could have. And that hurts, too.
Because wewereserious, whether he admitted it or not. I know I wasn’t the only one who fell. It’s not that he didn’t love me. I know he did. Even if he never said the words. It’s that he did love me, and he still let me go. And just because we’ve never put a name to it doesn’t make it untrue.
Hutch
I’vecalledtwice.Textedfour times; the first text left on read.
No response. No read receipts since. Nothing. It didn’t take a rocket scientist to figure out.
She blocked me.
I could call Wren. Ask her if she’s heard from her and if she’s okay. But that wouldn’t be fair. I lost the right to ask about Ginger when I let her walk away, like she wasn’t the only person who’s ever felt like home.
Yeah, that’s a solid kick to the balls.
But I can hardly blame her.
It feels like someone ripped the floor from under me, and I’ve been free-falling ever since.
I miss her laugh. Miss the way she looks at me like I’m more than cocky jokes and one-night stands. Like maybe I’m not as fucked up as I thought.
But I didn’t follow her when she left. I didn’t fight for her. I watched her walk away from me like it didn’t matter. Like I didn’t care.
I couldn’t exactly undo the past. I couldn’t erase the way I’d acted, how I’d backed away every time she tried to get close. Shedeserved more than what I’d been willing to give. More than what Icouldgive. At the time, at least.
God, I’d hated hurting her. I never set out for things to happen the way they did. I wanted her,still. But wanting someone doesn’t automatically make you deserving of them. And I wasn’t ready then. I was scared and confused.
And now?
I want to be the guy who sticks to his commitments. I want to be worthy of a woman like Ginger. I don’t know if that will ever happen, but I have to try.
Iwantto try.
I stare at the plans on the screen in front of me. I’ve tweaked them a million fucking times, wanting everything to be perfect. A huge master with enough room for all her clothes and shoes—even the ridiculous ones that have no business walking around Timber Forge. Two identical loft bedrooms for the boys. Massive floor-to-ceiling windows and a porch that wraps all the way around to the back of the house. A place where we could sit and have coffee in the mornings, or watch the boys play in the water in the afternoons. A dark room off the back hallway. A place just for her, so she can get back to her love of photography and find herself again.
I don’t know if she even wants that. If she even wantsme.
But I can’t shake the thought. And if I’m ever going to be worthy of her, I have to start somewhere.
Setting the printer to the correct paper size, I set it to print and then toggle over to the screen with my flight information listed.
The printer whirs to life while I pull out an envelope, hope sparking in my belly.
