Page 28 of Sunshine

CHAPTERTHIRTEEN

NOW

Ispend the next five days in hiding, locked in my room and content to forget about the life that goes on without me.

Without Jason.

Even knowing the truth, I still find myself missing him, wondering what it’s like wherever he is . . . wondering if he’s at peace.

I quietly teeter between a dangerous level of anxiety and self-loathing and a full-body numbness that blankets over it all.

IknowI’m experiencing a catastrophic loss, not just from Jason’s death but also in the smoke and mirrors of our relationship. And I’m not sure I’ll ever feel ready to subject myself to the people of this town—not after what happened at Wild Coyote. I also can’t bear to hash things out with my mom again. My room is the only place that feels safe, the only place I can sit with my thoughts and try to rationalize the whirlwind that has become my life.

Grief and shame burn along the corners of my mind like edges of a paper, always there but never quite swallowing me whole. I wish they would, if I’m being honest. At least it would be productive—I’d have something to show for my time beyond my swollen eyelids and the crumbs on my mattress from the crackers I eat to appease my mother, who’s taken to standing on the other side of the door to listen to the wrapper crinkle as I eat.

I hear Barry leave for the office each morning, not to return home again until dinnertime. Mom moves around the house, getting Annie to and from school and doing whatever else it is she does to occupy her time. I hear her on the phone a lot, the town’s gossip train in full force, especially when it comes to me.

She’s worried about me—I know she is. And I love her for it. But we’ve never seen eye to eye, so I’m not sure what shared ground exists between us and I’m too exhausted to fight about what comes next. I expect she’ll want me to take it on the chin, to grieve for an appropriate amount of time before getting back out there to start over. To find a suitor worthy of my future.

I’m not ready to hearanyof her opinions. But as my restlessness increases, I can’t bear to look at my pale pink walls or my George Strait posters or—god forbid—the collage of photos I keep taped to my mirror that are full of Jason’s face.

Not for another second.

So when I hear my mother’s phone ring, when I hear her subsequently slip out the back door so she can take her call out of earshot in the safety of her garden, I get dressed and scurry down the stairs, grabbing her car keys from the foyer table and booking it out the door.

I windmy mother’s Mercedes up the long dirt road that leads to the ranch’s main house, filling the air with dust as the tires crunch on scattered rocks. There’s going to be hell to pay when I bring her car back home dirty, but I already feel a deep sense of relief in the distance I’ve put between me and the dark corners of my mind that have been holding me captive all week. It’s the first time I’ve felt the sun on my skin in days, the first time I’ve been outside to breathe in fresh air, and it loosens some of the barbed tension that’s clawed into my body.

I slow when I notice movement in one of the corrals. It’s the one closest to the house that’s predominantly used for the newer horses that are brought here to the ranch, the one Jason and I used to spend afternoons hanging out at, watching Wells and his brothers work.

A quick look back tells me it’s Wells who sits on the beautiful roan horse, his backward hat and broad shoulders a dead giveaway. Rhett and Kasey watch him from just outside the wooden fence, both wearing cowboy hats low over their eyes. It’s not until I beep the car locked with the fob that they all look my way.

I do my best not to let my nerves get the best of me as I make my way toward them, even though being here still feels wrong, somehow. I forgot how much I love the smell of the ranch. It’s rich with earth and grass and—despite the obvious traces of horse shit—it’s familiar in a way that a place like this can only be after it’s sunk deep into the fibers of your being.

I’d probably never admit it, but it’s my favorite place in Saddlebrook Falls. I’ve always felt so at homehere, the worn buildings and wide-open fields becoming a place of refuge—even with Wells’s temperamental attitude toward me.

I used to chalk it up as a place where I could hide out and avoid going home, but now as my feet lead me toward the wide corral, I think it might have always been more than that. This ranch is tucked far enough away from the rest of town that I feel like I can get an honest-to-god deep breath in when I’m here. It’s a welcome reprieve from the constant scrutiny.

Not counting the night of Jason’s funeral last week, this is the first time I’ve been here since the summer before college. But nothing’s changed in the year and a half that I’ve been away—other than the realization that now I’m showing up alone.

It’s a thought that rips through me, a cutting awareness that I’m here without Jason. My steps falter as I question what I’m even doing here . . . Maybe this was a mistake. Glancing back at the lot behind me, I find that I’m only halfway to the trio of Bennetts—if I turn back now, I bet I can make it to the car before anyone has a chance to catch me.

But as I turn back around, I find Wells staring at me. His expression is almost unreadable, but there’s a curiosity there that sparks between us, and I’m suddenly moving toward him again. The horse he’s riding whinnies as she turns to trot away from the fence, and I can tell she’s anxious. She’s probably new here, but not so new that she’s trying to buck him off. It’s clear they’ve been putting in the work with her, because despite her trepidation she leans into Wells’s gentle direction as he steers her back toward the fence line.

I can feel Rhett and Kasey’s eyes on me, but I keep my focus on Wells as his lips turn up at the corners. I’m relievedthat he doesn’t seem upset at my presence, but the relief is short-lived when I get a better look at his face.

His normally honeyed skin is pale, and the bruising under his eyes is so dark it has my stomach twisting. He isn’t sleeping. “Layla,” he says on an exhale before he clears his throat. “You’re here.”

The nerves in my stomach spike. “Yeah . . . sorry for just showing up like this, but I was hoping I could talk to you?”

His brown eyes dart to his brothers before landing back on me. “Sure.” He nods, swinging a leg over the horse’s back to jump down from the saddle. “Can you bring her in for me?” he asks Kasey. “I’ll run her out again before dark.”

I finally brave a look at the two men standing to my right and find them both watching me. Kasey nods as Rhett’s brow furrows, like he can’t figure out what good me being here will bring.

I don’t blame him.

Wells pushes open the built-in gate and hands the reins to his brother. And it strikes me again, how bad he looks. It’s obvious how much he’s struggling, and I’ve done nothing to extend any show of support like he’s done for me.

“How about a walk?” I ask, hoping to put a little distance between us and prying eyes.

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