Page 69 of Saddle and Bound

Chapter 41

Alex

I can't sleep. Again. I toss and turn in bed, staring at the ceiling of my room in the main house. It's been three days since we returned from the camping trip, and I feel like I’m coming apart at the seams.

I promised Rosie I'd give her space, but the distance between us is killing me. She said she needed time to think about her future—about us—and I nodded like a fool, pretending I could handle it. But now I can’t help wondering: if I can’t be the one to help her through the hard times, what’s my place in her life?

With a frustrated groan, I swing my legs over the edge of the bed and sit up, staring at the darkened room. There's no point in pretending I can sleep. I get dressed and head to the veranda, hoping the cool night air will calm me.

I look toward the cabin. I started working on it, hoping it could become our love nest if Rosie decided to stay here.

But now? Now I don’t even know if she still wants me in her life.

The thought feels like a punch to the gut. What if she’s realized I can’t give her the life she deserves? What if I’m nothing compared to the opportunities waiting for her in Los Angeles?

I rake a hand through my hair and try to banish the thought, but it won’t leave. Every time I see her walk by without even looking at me, the fear grows.

I can’t sit here anymore. The ranch feels suffocating, the silence too loud.

Without thinking, I head to the stables. Horses have always been my escape, my way of finding clarity when everything else feels impossible. Saddling Storm is muscle memory, my hands working automatically in the dark.

“C’mon, boy,” I whisper, mounting him. “Let’s go.”

The moment Storm takes off, the wind hits my face, cool and sharp, cutting through the haze in my mind. I let him run, his hooves pounding against the earth as the ranch disappears behind us. Usually, this is all I need to steady myself—to remember who I am.

But tonight, even the familiar rhythm of the gallop doesn’t quiet the storm inside me. No matter how far we ride, my thoughts keep circling back to Rosie: her silence, her distance, the pain in her eyes that I can’t seem to reach.

The hours pass in a blur of moonlit meadows and shadowed streams. When the first light of dawn begins to creep over the horizon, I finally turn Storm back toward home.

As we near the main house, I spot them on the porch: Rosie and Ethan.

She’s leaning into him, her head on his shoulder, her body trembling with silent sobs.

My heart seizes in my chest. For a moment, I freeze in the saddle, unable to think or move. Then, slowly, I dismount, my boots hitting the ground with a dull thud.

What is he saying to her? What is she telling him?

The instinct to rush to her, to take her in my arms, burns through me. But I don’t move. I don’t know if she wants me there—if I still have the right to be the one she leans on.

Instead, I stand there, rooted to the spot, the ache in my chest growing with every passing second.

And then Ethan sees me. His gaze meets mine, calm but full of meaning.

“Alex,” he says quietly, “maybe you should…”

“No.” My voice is firm, louder than I intend. “I’m not leaving.”

Rosie lifts her head at the sound of my voice. Her eyes, red and swollen, lock with mine. For a moment, I think I see relief flicker there. But then she buries her face against Ethan’s shoulder again, and my heart shatters.

I take a slow step forward. Then another. “Princess,” I say softly, “what’s wrong?”

She doesn’t answer.

Ethan looks at her, then back at me. “Alex, I think she—”

“I said I’m not leaving.” My voice is quieter this time, but the resolve in it is unshakable. I step onto the porch, kneeling in front of her.

“Rosie,” I say gently, my voice barely above a whisper, “I’m here. Whatever it is, we’ll face it together. Just… talk to me.”

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