Page 74 of Untruly With You

“Hey, Frank,” I say, already rifling through the dresser for work clothes to wear so I can help Wells around the ranch.

I know what Frankie wants to say. It’s been bubbling under the surface for the past forty-eight hours. But she just stares at me.

“Out with it,” I groan. “Tell me what you’re thinking.”

Frankie squares her shoulders to me, lifting her chin. “Fine. I think you’re a dumbass.”

I scoff and throw the shirt in my hands at her. She blocks it, glaring. “Good morning to you too,” I grumble, Frankie’s somber mood rubbing off on me—not that my mood was particularly sunny beforehand.

“How could you let her go?” Frankie demands, standingfrom the bed and crossing her arms over her chest. That unmistakable Davis fire is alive behind her sharp gaze.

My halfhearted laugh comes out shaky. “Didn’t you hear what I said to everyone? We weren’t actually dating.”

“Don’t be so technical.” She sighs, tapping her fingers on her crossed arms. “I noticed the change in you after you met Laine. You were hopeful. Happy. You were giddy when you talked about her paying $300 for a date with you. Before you came, you told me that Laine was bright and bubbly. What I didn’t expect was how much it rubbed off on you.”

My skin prickles with heat, and I turn into the bathroom to dress. Frankie continues talking through the door.

“Fake relationship or not, you care about her, Sutton. Iknowyou do.”

Once dressed, I throw the door open, my lungs heaving with labored breaths. “I don’t just care about her. Iloveher.” As soon as the words are out, the air feels thinner, and I rub my chest with my palm, forcing air into it.

Frankie’s quick laugh is pure delight. “I knew it!” After seeing my horrified reaction to my own declaration, she asks, “What did Laine say when you told her?”

I shake my head once.

“You dumbass!” Frankie says again, but this time with a grin still plastered on her face. “You have to tell her how you feel. I’m sure she wouldn’t have left if she knew.” The details of a grand gesture are already forming behind those eyes.

“That’s exactly why I can’t tell her. I don’t want her here. I mean, yes, a selfish part of me does.” Frankie opens her mouth to object, but I continue on. “Youknowhow hard these last years with Dad will be. You’ve done your research. I love Laine too much to sentence her to that.”

“Just because you’re staying in Montana doesn’t mean you two have to end things.”

“Long distance wouldn’t work. I won’t be able to think about anything aside from Dad’s health. And I refuse to subject Laine to a half-assed relationship. Not when she deserves all of me and more.”

Frankie’s eyes are wide, and I see her mentally mapping out options. I also see when each one hits a dead end. “Have you thought about Laine? Doesn’t she deserve to know?” Frankie asks, unable to come up with a solution. “She looked at you the same way you looked at her. She must be heartbroken right now.”

My shoulders drop, and I stare at my hands, red and raw from my week of working on the ranch. “Whatever Laine is feeling right now is nothing compared to the heartache she would face if she stayed here to watch me—watch us—go through hell. The heartache of trudging through hell right alongside us.”

“Then maybe you shouldn’t stay.” Even as Frankie says it, I can tell she doesn’t fully mean it. “We have it handled. You can still come visit.”

“I didn’t have any warning with Duke.” My brother’s name is acid in my mouth. “But I do have a warning with Dad. I’m not missing out on his final years, not for anything, not when I already wasted six years being mad at him. If things are meant to be with Laine, maybe we will find our way back to each other someday.”

Frankie’s mouth opens and closes a few times, but she chokes down her arguments. Instead, she leaves without another word, her steps defeated.

My chest still feels tight, so I turn to the same place I always have: a book. The green leather spine ofPeter Pansticks out from the others on the bookshelf. I pull it out to see a scrap piece of paper near the back, just barely sticking out from the pages. I open the book to that spot.

Laine was on the last chapter, just shy of finishing. At the top of the page, one line of the book stands out from the others.When people grow up, they forget the way.

The scrap piece of paper is a receipt from our night at the karaoke bar two weeks ago. The memory feels foreign to me, as if it’s something I read in a book, not something I lived. Laine’s messy handwriting on the receipt reads,Don’t grow up too fast.

My legs feel weak. After placing the receipt back in the book, I stand and tuck it under my arm.

I don’t realize I’m going outside until Hank calls to me. Determined to make the most of his body while he can, he’s on horseback. Bill is on one side of him, Wells on the other. Both of them are pretending they’re not keeping a watchful eye on my father.

“You alright?” Hank asks, his voice slightly kinder than usual.

“Fine,” I mumble, lifting the corners of my mouth into an unconvincing smile.

Again, my body acts of its own accord, and I’m suddenly staring down at my phone, my text thread with Laine opened within seconds. I wince at the last messages we sent to each other.

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