Page 41 of Never Really Over

“I’m sorry,” I say, out of nowhere. Apparently, now that the apology flood gates opened, I can’t seem to stop them.

“Excuse me?” he asks, not snotty, not annoyed, not mean. He simply doesn’t understand what I was saying.

“I’m sorry I left. I’m sorry I broke our hearts in the process.”

“This again? I actually forgave you a long time ago, Layla. You did what was right for us. It took me a while to realize that, and I was angry, but I’ve moved on.”

I flinch, thankful that he can’t see it because his focus isn’t on me, it’s on Poppy. Moved on. I wish those words wouldn’t hold so much hurt, but they do.

“I needed to say it, though. Again. I know I sound like a broken record by now, but I can’t seem to stop saying it.”

“Appreciate that. Unnecessary, but I appreciate it, nonetheless.”

“When did you get goats?” I ask, changing the subject.

“Few years ago. It was Natalie’s fault. She talked me into it. They’re a pain like I said, but I have to admit, they’re funny. They climb on everything and are garbage cans, eating everything in sight.”

“Bet you’re glad you caved now, huh?”

He gives me a sad smile. “Yeah. She talked me into a lot of things. She had a fun spirit, you know? Had the shortest attention span of anyone I knew, including Poppy,” he says, gesturing to the little sweetheart sitting on the ground with the biggest smile imaginable stretched across her chubby cheeks. The baby goat is sitting next to her, making noises that sound like bleets and Poppy mimics it.

Another goat comes walking over and Colt moves quickly, picking up Poppy and setting her on his hip.

“Time to go, Tootsie Pop. Don’t want you to get hurt.” She protests for only a bit but listens to Colt. “That’s Dick. He lives up to his name,” he explains.

“Ahh. Gotcha.”

With ease, and seemingly a lot of practice, he puts Poppy back into the carrier with only a little bit of fussing from her. Then, without saying anything more, he ushers me out of the pen and shuts the gate behind us.

“She needs to go down for her morning nap,” Colt tells me.

“Oh. Okay.”

I’m oddly disappointed. I would like to stay here, spend more time with them, but I get it. I’m not unwelcome, per say, but I’m definitely not someone he’s seeking out to spend time with.

“I need to head home, too. I obviously didn’t really plan this little detour for my day,” I say, gesturing to my pajamas.

He grins. I wish he wouldn’t have. He’s better looking than I remember and seeing that smile, still a little boyish but a grown up version of the smile I fell in love with so many years ago.

I stand to the side as he finishes his chores, feeding the chickens and checking on Poppy’s favorite little calves once more, then we walk in silence back to my car. He opens my door for me, still such a gentleman.

“Thank you.”

“No problem. Thanks for stopping over.”

“Ha! Right. Don’t tell me I didn’t totally mess up your morning.”

“Our mornings are far from normal now. Nothing is,” he admits. “Besides, I still got my work done and got to see you sit in poop. I’d say it was successful.”

I know my face is sad but I can’t help it. The situationissad. It’s unfair and it hits me why my mother feels so guilty. She hit a car that took the life of a baby’s mother and father. The accident wasn’t her fault, but that doesn’t get rid of the guilt.

We say good bye and I make him promise to call me if he needs anything. He assures me he will, but I have my doubts. Something tells me he doesn’t lean on others too quickly. He never did when we were growing up and I can’t imagine that particular characteristic has changed over time.

On the ride home, I let the tears fall.

Dalton said that maybe Colt and I were one of those couples who would just never really be over and I wonder if he’s right. More than wonder, though, I hope he is.

I just need to fix all that I’ve broken and prove to him I’m not the stuck-up snob he thinks I am.

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