Page 58 of The Tryst

What could I have done differently? Where did I go wrong?

The only conclusion I’ve come up with is that I should have stopped it at the very beginning. I should never have tried to rekindle things with Holland, because I was an idiot to not consider that Wade’s feelings could resurface too. I misjudged everything, only cared about my own desires and got swept away.

But fuck… how could I not? Holland is the one for me. There will be no other and I’m well aware that I’m faced with the same dilemma I had eleven years ago. Where do my wants and needs fit in with the priority of others?

While my parents have reluctantly given me space to process on my own, Ethan’s losing patience. He’s the only one brave enough to force me out of my bubble. Yesterday, he called and left a terse message. “Get your ass to the farm and help unload hay bales. There’s work to be done.”

I knew it was more about giving me something to do than any real need for help. We canceled all lessons until after the funeral, and there are enough employees to take care of the horses. Partof me wanted to ignore him, stay buried in my grief, but in the end, I decided to go in. Maybe some hard work would get my mind off things. Mostly, I hoped it would get my mind off Holland.

I’ve been putting her off, telling her and my family that I need space. The truth is, I can’t bear to look at her. She’s a constant reminder that I turned on my brother for her and it’s conflicting with this deep love I have for her. Deep down, I know it’s not her fault. I’m the one who pursued her, who promised her the world. But I can’t shake the thought that if I’d just left her alone, Wade would still be alive. There’s a specific line of events that led to his death: Holland came home, I went after her, we fell back in love, Wade found out, an argument ensued, and Wade stormed out of the house.

Then he died.

My thoughts are still churning as I pull up to the barn. I see some of the employees unloading hay and take a moment to steel myself for the awkward condolences I know are coming. I grab my work gloves from the passenger seat, shove them on and head inside.

As expected, I’m surrounded by well-meaning folks who work for Blackburn. I accept their kind words, nod in gratitude but gruffly tell them I want to get some work done. The message is clear and they melt away, giving me space.

I focus on the task at hand, joining in to lift the square hay bales, the physical exertion a welcome distraction from the torment in my mind.

Thankfully, it works and for a blessed half hour, I’m able to concentrate only on the task at hand. My muscles burn, sweat soaks my ball cap, and I forget about the horrors of Wade dying.

But then Kat and Abby walk into the barn and reality comes crashing back. A new wave of guilt floods through me because Abby flew in two nights ago, and I haven’t even seen her yet.I’m her big brother and I should be the stronger one, and yet I couldn’t bear to have another sibling look at me with pity.

But Abby being Abby, she rushes over, wrapping me in a tight hug and immediately cries into my chest. I look over the top of her head while I hold her to see Kat staring at me, her arms crossed, her expression stormy. She doesn’t say anything, just glares at me.

I try to ignore it, but eventually, the tension becomes too much. I straighten up, wiping sweat from my brow, and face her. “What’s wrong, Kat?”

She doesn’t hold back. “What’s wrong? What’s wrong is the way you’re ignoring Holland.”

I release Abby who sniffles and wipes her damp cheeks. She takes a wary step back as Kat moves in closer.

I bristle. “I’m ignoring all of you, in case that wasn’t clear.”

“It’s clear,” she sneers. “But Holland is the one you committed to love. She’s the one you worked hard to regain her trust, and the minute she relents… the absolute fucking minute… you betray her again.”

“I’m not betraying her,” I grumble, shoving my hands into my pockets. “I’m trying to process.”

“You’ve had plenty of time to process,” she says with narrowed eyes. “Now it’s time to do something about it.”

“I’m still trying to figure it out,” I say lamely, but truth is, I’m stuck in apathy because nothing seems right.

“You’re blaming yourself for Wade’s death, so you’re going to punish yourself by letting go of the one thing that reminds you of it and ironically, the best thing that’s ever happened to you.”

“You wouldn’t understand,” I retort, my temper rising.

Kat’s eyes flash with anger. “You think I don’t understand guilt? Or loyalty? Or making decisions that put yourself first at what might be the expense of others?”

“Yeah,” I yell at her, causing all heads in the barn to turn our way. “But your decisions didn’t get someone killed.”

“Oh, boo-hoo,” she drawls, and I’m stunned by her utter lack of empathy. “You big baby. You and I both know you didn’t kill Wade. A drunk driver did.”

“Kat,” Abby interjects, but Kat waves her off.

“No, Abby. He needs to hear this,” she says fiercely. She turns back to me, her voice trembling with emotion. “Let’s just say, for argument’s sake, that it is your fault. I’m telling you to get over it. Forgive yourself and live your happily ever after with Holland.”

I shake my head, the words bouncing off my walls of self-loathing. “I can’t.”

Kat throws up her hands in frustration. “Fine. Stick to this ludicrous idea that you have to give up Holland because of some penance for Wade’s death. Be an idiot, but this is where you better listen up well.” She moves in closer to me, poking me in the chest. “You need to man up and let her go. She’s waiting for you to come to your senses, and it’s not fair to her. Let her go so she can be happy.”

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