Page 88 of A Photo Finish
If he’s searching for pity, this isn’t where he’s going to get it. He just told me he loves me, and he’s still dicking around ignoring me? That’s even worse than thinking he doesn’t care about me enough to make this work.
“Do you want it to? Do you want to get better? Because from everything I’ve seen, you’re pretty stagnant.”
“Violet—”
“No. You are. Don’t lie to me and pretend you’re not. Take the demons by the horns. I don’t need youbetter. What is better anyway? That’s not a goal. That’s not quantifiable. Pick something you can do, andfucking do it. I don’t need you down at track level. I don’t even need you at every race. I don’t need you to love horses, but Ineedyou to love me.”
He starts, gray eyes wide and glassy, full lips rolling together like he’s holding words in that he just can’t quite bring himself to say.
“I know you see yourself as dark. But you aren’t. You’re swirling color, all different shades, a mosaic. You’re complicated and beautiful. And I’m not quitting on you, so you better not quit on me.”
The words ring out between us like chimes on a windy day. The silence is heavy and so is my conscience as I brace myself to put an expiration date on us. “Pippy has her debut race in two weeks. Tell me a plan by then. Or don’t. At least I’ll know how to proceed with my life.”
“You’re giving me a deadline?” He sounds borderline offended. Like no one ever lays down the law where he’s concerned. Like they’re so busy tiptoeing around his shitty moods and broken persona, they forget to treat him like he has responsibilities. Like he’s capable of handling pressure. That his actions have consequences.
“Yeah. Two weeks should be long enough for you to decide if you’re going to try or not. That’s all. Not—” I hold my hands up in air quotes, “better. Not healed. Not different. I don’t want you different. I want you with your jagged edges and your growly moods.” I step forward and let my hands fall onto his knees, feeling the line of muscles beneath my palms. And I squeeze, urging him to look me in the eye. Really look me in the eye. So he knows how serious I am right now. That I mean every word right down to my bones, to my marrow. “I know everyone else has let you hide away. No one has gone out of their way to check on you, to love you. Everyone around you has failed you so thoroughly, given up on you so easily.” I shake my head, and tears spring up in my eyes at the injustice of it. It makes me want to fight even harder for him. “I wantyou. But you need to want you too. I can’t want you enough for the both of us.”
There are no more words to be said between us, and it feels like Cole knows that, too. He just gives me a terse nod. One I return before turning and walking away from him for what might be the last time. I walk down the gravel road back to my apartment, mulling that possibility over.
And then the tears finally come.
27
Cole
I lieon the couch and stare up at the ceiling. Little rainbows dance across the flat expanse from the crystal prisms hanging in the window. Light and pretty. They remind me of the farmhouse, of Violet.
“Does this actually help? Or is it just something people do in movies?”
“I don’t know.” The stacked bracelets on Trixie’s wrist jangle as she holds a hand up dramatically. “But I will say that I don’t think I’ve ever seen you relaxed enough here to lie down. You can’t even see the door from there.”
“Maybe I’ve stopped caring.”
She cackles a raspy laugh. “Is that what you’re doing? Lying down to die? How very Shakespearean of you. Good thing you drove back in for a session.”
I turn my head to glare at Trixie. Sometimes it’s like she thinks I pay her to mock me. “You know that’s not what I mean.”
She smiles back at me, all the wrinkles around her lips creasing in a way that tell years of tales. “Then by all means, tell me what you intended to say.”
“I need to figure out how to cope with watching the woman I love get up on a horse and ride away from me. I need to know how to be happy for her rather than terrified she’ll never come back.”
“Okay. Is this something that has come up between the two of you? What does Violet say?”
I’m grateful she doesn’t home in on the L word, but it also feels good to admit it. Last night talking to Violet outside, the way she reacted, I don’t know why I waited so long. I’ve loved her from afar for years and never said a thing.
I think she might love me too. She didn’t say it. But I canfeelit. What woman would wait around for a fucking mess like me if she didn’t love me?
I think we might love each other.
She makes me feel safe, makes me want to take chances, makes me a better me—and if making someone a better version of themselves just by being there isn’t love in action, then I don’t know what is.
I want to do that for her too.
“This is where I fucked up.”
I chance a look over at Trixie. Her face gives nothing away, and she just sits there, staring at me. She’s not disappointed or joking. She’s just waiting.
“She fell off a horse while I was watching, and I crumbled. I had a full-on attack like I haven’t had in years. In the aftermath, I may have implied I couldn’t be with her because of her job.”
