Page 84 of A Photo Finish
“Cole? Are you okay?” I pad across the floor, onto the Persian area rug in the living room, and kneel before him, trying to get his eyes on mine. Seeking that warmth.
I fold myself onto my knees, butting up against his feet. One flesh, one plastic. I wrap my hands around each of his calves. One flesh, one plastic. “Hey. Look at me.”
When he finally does, my heart lurches in my chest. He looks tortured. Broken. So lost. His eyes are glassy, his longer hair on top disheveled and flopped over his forehead. His face looks more lined than usual, showing our difference in age. The difference in how our lives have played out. Sure, I’ve had my challenges, but Cole . . . it’s like he got dropped in the middle of the mountains at seventeen and has been forced to survive on his own.
I feel guilty. Like I haven’t really wrapped my head around just how much he’s been through. I’ve been so focused on wanting him, on showing him, that maybe I missed seeing just how lost he is.Has he been pretending to be fine this whole time, for my sake?
I think back to his nerves around me riding Pippy in the fields, or that he never watches any races from ground level, his vocal dislike of horses—save for Pippy, who seems to have completely won him over—and realization dawns on me.
Dropping my head, I kiss his knee. “I’m sorry I scared you. It wasn’t my intention. Is this something that’s been bothering you for a while?”
“Yes,” he says, looking at the ground again. Not touching me back. Zero reassurance in his body.
“Okay.” My hands rub up and down his calves, silently begging him to look at me. “We can work on that. Figure out a happy medium. I don’t want you worrying about me like this.”
“Then stop.”
“Stop what?”
“Making me worry.”
I chuckle sadly. It’s such a sweet sentiment. “Tell me how. I’ll try.”
I feel his heavy sigh over the tips of my fingers as he finally pulls his head up and looks at me. The sigh is defeated, and so is the look in his eye. “I can’t do this.”
I lean back, away from him, like he just slapped me. “What?”
“This.” His voice has transformed to the cold, unfeeling version of him I started out with a couple of months ago. His defense mechanism. “You and me.Us.I can’t do it.”
My pulse throbs in my throat as I try to keep up with what he’s saying. Seems like an extreme reaction to a simple spill off a horse. Not my first. And definitely not my last.
“Why?”
“The riding. The horses. The racing. It’s more than I can handle. Day in and day out. Every weekend. My dad died on that fucking track. I’m both drawn to it and repulsed by it. You deserve someone who can be there for you. You deserve someone who will be your biggest fan. And I can’t do that.”
I reel. First, I’m devastated, and then suddenly I’m furious. “Are you telling me if I found a new job we’d be fine?”
His eyes shift away and his jaw ticks, like he’s too ashamed to admit I hit the nail on the head. I let my hands fall away from his legs and flatten them on the carpet to ground me, breathing deeply and taking in the low-pile threads, the way the dark blues and creams and whites blend. Him and I. Dark and light. I feel like he just plucked my thread right out and tossed me away.
“So, you kept this going, pursued me even,knowingthe job I’ve always dreamt of and am finally making a name for myself at would be a deal-breaker for you?”
He groans and runs his hand through his hair, tugging at the ends angrily.
“And now you have the gall to ask me to quit for you?”
He looks at me quickly now, his eyes blazing. “I wouldneverask you to quit for me.”
I push up to my feet, shaking my head as I go. “Ask it. Imply it. What’s the difference?”
“Violet—”
“No.” I hold both hands out to stop him. “Nah. Don’t. I don’t want to hear it. You’ve always been clear about your limitations. And now I need to set my own. I spent a whole year thinking I might be the exception to your rule. That maybe, just maybe, I would be the one to change your mind. Which is stupid, right?” I laugh tearfully, knowing I’m losing the grasp on my control, and move swiftly toward the door. “I’m never going to force you to change, and twice now, you’ve proven that I’m not worth changing for. Fool me twice, shame on me.”
“Violet, please, you have to know it has nothing to do with—”
I spin and stare back at him. One tear spills out on my cheek. “I know, I know. It’s not me, it’s you. Except it’s not. You’re so much more than you give yourself credit for. I wish you could see it in yourself. What I see in you? So much strength. So much love. But I can’t make you embrace it. That’s on you. I don’t believe for one second that you don’t want us. But you’re stuck, Cole. You can’t see past one moment of your life. One terrible moment. And you’re letting it define your entire existence.”
I jam my feet into my boots, hating walking away from him when he looks like he needs me more than he ever has before. “When you’re ready to make other moments just as important, let me know. This isn’t me quitting on you. But I won’t wait around forever, Cole. Figure your shit out.”
