Page 49 of Always Mine

I had convinced myself that I was ready for closure. I thought that maybe if we talked, I could let this all go. It’d be the end of our book and I could finally move on from this part of my life.

I’d be free.

But as we stand here staring into each other, I see the questions lingering there, the same questions that come rushing back to me. Suddenly, I’m overwhelmed with a rush of emotions that want to break free and drown me. My racing heart is the only sound I hear as we are locked in a trance, and nothing else seems to matter right now except this.

Him. Me. Us.

My brain is reeling when I’m hit with newfound clarity, and I don't know how to handle it. It makes my breath stutter and my heart twist. It’s something I hadn’t wanted to eventhinkabout, something that I buried so deep inside myself that I thought it’d never see the light of day again.

How can we get closure when our story clearly isn’t over yet?

“Wyatt?”

I blink, tearing my eyes away from Paxton and focusing on Cooper. He’s staring at me with a mix of worry and something I can’t place.

“Yeah,” I mutter, not even sure if he can hear me. My throat feels tight, like there’s a noose wrapped around my neck trying to suffocate me.

“You okay?”

Am I? I don’t think I am. “I need a second.”

His brows furrow and he nods, stepping forward when I retreat. “Want me to come, too?”

“No. I’m fine. I just need a moment alone.” I try to smile, but it falls flat. I just need a minute to regain my bearings. “I’ll be back.” I spin away, avoiding the probing stares of my family when I exit.

I head to the barn, thankful that it’s empty when I get there. I pull the door shut behind me, going to where Daisy and Judith are in the back. They’re lazing about, and don’t even stir when I plop down on the small stool in front of their stall.

Still trying to get myself together, I huff. “You both look full and happy. Did you enjoy all the corn?”

Daisy lets out a little snort and Judith gives me nothing.

Typical.

“Well, I’m glad you’re both enjoying yourselves.” I sigh, closing my eyes and leaning back against the wall. “Remember that conversation we had the other day? Well, I’m still stuck on that. I have no idea what to do about the Paxton thing and it’s driving me up the wall. Any advice?”

“Well, you could talk to me and we could figure out a way to handle it. Together.”

I was so lost in my head that I didn’t hear the barn door open. My eyes shoot up, and I jerk forward when I see Paxton a few feet away, arms folded over his chest as he waits for me to respond. My gaze drags over his body, taking in the name-brand jeans, Polo shirt, and combed-back hair. He looks like Paxton, just not the one I know. He’s too clean, pressed, anddifferent, which is probably a good thing. Remembering that he’s notmyPaxton will keep me clear headed.

“You shouldn’t butt into conversations that don’t concern you,” I grit out, posture tense. I wonder what cosmic fuckery is happening that led him to follow me here.

His brow lifts, and he shrugs, leaning against the stall gate. “Well, considering the conversation was about me, I think I have a right to defend myself.”

Thisis the entitled Paxton Prescott that I’ve always known. Like I owe him something.News flash, fucker, I don’t owe you a damn thing.

“Well, by all means.” I sweep my arm wide, my voice dripping with sarcasm. “The floor is yours.”

“Are you really going to hash it out with me? Or are you just being snide?”

“I’m not in the mood to fight you if that’s what you’re asking, but you want to talk, right? You’ve been hounding me about it for days. May as well let you get it out so we can finally move on.”

“Wyatt,” he groans, shutting his eyes like he’s in pain, and I take major joy in the fact that I’m annoying him.

“Paxton,” I shoot back with that same frustrated tone, ready for him to get it over with. “Just say what you need to say, then leave.”

He shifts, opening his eyes and taking a moment to scan around. I wonder what he’s thinking. Does it look the same as it did the last time he was here? Is he thinking about the past and all the memories we have in this very spot?

Is he thinking about warm hands touching damp skin? Is he recalling the breathless whimpers and grunts? Is he living in the moment when nothing could have torn us apart?

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