Page 137 of Wonderstruck

He took one long, calming breath, before setting his eyes back on me. “Because you raised yourself better than that.”

His hold on me with enough to let me know he wouldn’t let me sink into myself again, not if he had anything to do with it. So, my shoulders squared, and I breathed in every word, every syllable of what he’d just said, repeating it over in my head like a mantra.

Hearing it from Rory was comforting. Hearing it from Dasiy was heart-warming. But hearing it from my hero was life-altering.

I'm not him.

“Come on,” Grandpa tapped me on my back to getme moving, wiping at rougue tear before clearing his throat. “It’s getting thick and I promised your girlfriend some cocoa.”

Those two words were enough to make me smile and forget everything.

My girlfriend.

chapter thirty seven

cowboys can be sad too

The 6:00 AM air clung to my skin, carrying that earthy smell of grass and horses that reminded me I was home better than the house did. The sky stretched out before me, streaked with soft pinks and yellows, like a canvas someone had brushed too delicately to ruin. It was the kind of morning you only got out here—quiet, untouched, and full of hope.

I’d missed it. All of it. The fields, thehorses, the way the countryside seemed tobreathe in a rhythm that calmed everything from the blades of grass to the beating of my heart. But the stillness wasn’t as peaceful as it should’ve been. It felt… fragile. Like the wrong sound or movement could shatter it.

I glanced toward the house for theeightieth time since I’d been out here, and some part of me hoped I’d see Dad. Purely to stop the torment of wondering when, orif,he was going to show.

He hadn’t come home last night. And Itold myself that waiting up on the porch wouldn’t do anything. All that would do was make me hate him more for making me worry like he deserved it. But I didn’t listen. I’d stayed up, waiting for the rumbleof his truck in the driveway, listening for anything and everything. But there was nothing.

So here I was, running a brush down Luna’s coat, pretending the silence didn’t bother me. Pretending I wasn’t worried, and hating myself forbeingworried when I goddamn knew that jackass wasn’t worried about me.

Then rustling came from behind me, faintbut enough to snap me to attention. I turned, the brim of my hat blocking out the glare from the sun. I half-expected Dad. It wasn’t him.

But the pink silhouette in his placewas a sight for my tired, sleep-deprived eyes.

Rory stood there, her pink ginghampyjamas a vision against the beams of theporch. Her hair fell over her shoulder in a loose braid, tiny streaks of the sunrise making the dark strands seem lighter. Her feet were bare, toes curling slightly as she came down the steps and wandered in the damp grass, looking at me like she’d caught me stealing a moment I didn’t want to share.

“Couldn’t sleep?” she called, a soft smiletugging at her lips as she stepped closer, her arms wrapped around her.

I shrugged, focusing back on Luna.“Figured I’d make use of the day. You?”

I knew for a fact that those golden brown eyes had narrowed on me.I knew it just from the burning on the back of my neck.“You’re really going to make me believe you’re out here brushing horses before sunrise for fun? You, Finnsleeping til noon is the most important step of my morning routineRhodes, is out at sunrise?”

I snorted, shaking my head. “You got me. Ijust missed the early morning gossipout in the barn.” I quickly looked at her, recognising the ache of her stare before setting it back to Luna. “No, I couldn’t sleep.”

The world was nothing but the nativemorning sounds for a moment or two, before the porch creaked again, and without thinking I whipped my head towards it. And like every time I turned to watch it, the steps were empty. There was no shadow. And before I knew it the world was silent again.

For a second I forgot that Rory could see me,forgot she could see my face as it sank.

I quickly turned and went back to brushing, praying for more silence. But the grass beside me rustled, and her shadow took over.

“Your grandpa was probably rightyesterday.” She whispered, and before I could turn my head and question her, she beat me to it. “I heard you two, out on the porch. I didn’t mean to but… I did.”

"You didn't say anything last night."

She shrugged. "I didn't want to say anything. You looked happy when you came back in, and for the rest of the day, actually. And I didn't want to ruin that." Her head shook as she took a step closer. “But I agree with everything he said. About you not being like him, about heartbreak being the reason behind all this… everything.”

While Grandpa had helped me finally seeall the ways I really was nothing like my Dad, I still thought he was wrong about one thing. I let out a laugh, too sharp, too bitter. “Youdon’t drinkyourself to death because you’re heartbroken, Rory. There’s more to it.”

“Finn—”

I cut her off, the words tumbling out before I could stop them. “I don’t think heever cared about us enough to live fully without her. Mom was what kept him here. I just know it. So when she died, I think he realised that we were never his problem. But I think a part of him felt bad for abandoning us, so instead, he just… checked out. Mentally, emotionally, anything so he didn't have to face reality.”

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