Page 83 of Saddle and Scent
I suck at that.
Not because I'm frightened—well, not exactly.It's not physical fear that makes my palms sweat and my throat close up. It's the terror of vulnerability, of saying the wrong thing, of finally speaking the truth I've been carrying for ten years only to watch it destroy whatever chance we might have had.
I'm better with actions than words, better with showing than telling.
But right now, in this moment, words are all I have.
I turn to face her fully as she struggles to sit up on the couch, her movements slow and careful as she fights against the lingering effects of the heat stroke.
Without hesitation, Beckett moves to her side, his hands gentle as he helps support her back, arranging pillows behind her so she can sit comfortably.
"How are you feeling?" he asks, his voice soft with concern. "Are you okay to sit up? Do you need to lie back down?"
She nods once, a sharp movement that suggests she's operating on pure determination rather than actual strength.
Her eyes never leave mine, and I can feel the weight of her stare like a physical force.
"I'll get you some water," Wes says, already moving toward the kitchen. His voice carries a note of forced cheerfulness that doesn't quite hide his nervousness. "And since you're awake, you should have some of your meds too."
"The meds need to be taken with food," Beckett adds, glancing between Juniper and me as if he's trying to gauge the temperature of the room. "I'll grab you something to eat. Nothing heavy, just enough to keep your stomach settled."
And then they're both gone, disappearing into the kitchen with the kind of tactical retreat that suggests they know exactly how explosive this conversation is about to become.
They're giving us space, privacy, the chance to have the confrontation that's been building for a decade.
Which leaves me standing in the middle of her living room, staring at the woman I've loved since I was old enough to understand what love meant, trying to find words for truths I've never spoken aloud.
Juniper watches me with those storm-gray eyes, and I can see everything in them—the hurt, the anger, the confusion, the exhaustion.
But underneath it all, there's something else. Something that might be hope, if I'm not imagining it. Something that suggests this conversation might not end with her throwing us out and never speaking to us again.
There's nothing to say and yet so much to say.
The silence stretches between us, heavy with the weight of everything we've never discussed, everything we've avoided,everything we've been too scared or too proud or too stupid to address.
I know this is the moment where I have to man up, where I have to find the courage to do what I should have done ten years ago.
I have to stop hiding behind noble intentions and protective instincts and the fear of saying the wrong thing.
I have to tell her the truth.
All of it.
Even the parts that make me look like a coward, even the parts that reveal how badly we miscalculated, even the parts that prove we've been carrying this burden alone when we should have trusted her enough to share it.
Maybe I'm like every other Alpha—too proud, too scared, too convinced that I know what's best for everyone around me.Doc could be right about us being indecisive and cowardly and wasteful of the precious time we've been given.
But right now, in this moment, with Juniper's eyes boring into mine and the truth finally out in the open, I don't have the luxury of fear anymore.
I have to face the music.
15
THE COURT IS YOURS
~JUNIPER~
The silence between us is palpable, thick enough that I could probably reach out and touch it if I had the energy.
