Page 103 of Fixing to Be Mine

“What?”

“This. Us. The house. All of it. But it never does.”

He watches me for a beat. “It’s ’cause it’s not.”

I try to push past the ache that’s building in my chest. “I don’t want to ruin it.”

“You’re not,” he says. “Even if you go, I’ll be so damn grateful to have met you for showing me the spark is still alive. I didn’t think I’d ever feel this way again. You proved me wrong in the best way possible.” He doesn’t smile when he says it. It’s not a line. It’s his truth.

I swallow hard, understanding it more than he knows. I’ve been so worried about hurting him, but I’m not sure I’ll survive leaving either.

He’s not only become my lover, but also my confidant and friend. Colt doesn’t ask for anything in return, only my company. He continues showing up every day, reminding me that I deserve better than I believe and that he’s here. And each time I hear my name on his lips, it’s like I belong to him.

I clear my throat and set my plate in the sink. “Why’d you help me? That first day, when you didn’t even know me?”

He doesn’t answer straightaway, only gazes out the large bay window toward the barn. His jaw shifts like he’s searching for the right words and trying not to overthink them.

“Some things you feel in your gut,” he says finally. “You were one of ’em.”

I want to believe there’s such a thing as gut feelings and good moments that aren’t a setup for heartbreak. I want to believe Colt and I are the exception and we’ll never have to experience that.

This place is still a work in progress, like us.

I take a deep breath, exhale slow, and sit on his lap now that he’s finished eating. “Can we stay here for a little while?”

He shifts, wrapping his arms around me and inhaling my skin. “We can stay as long as you want.”

The truth is, I must go to New York to confront my fears, but I don’t know how to leave anymore.

Twenty minutes pass, and I know it’s time to get moving. Colt washes our dishes, and I sit in my thoughts, letting the weight of them press down in the quiet.

I agreed to stay for a week and a half after we met so there would be no complications. And yet here I am.

I move to the bathroom and wash my hands. After I dry them, I notice there’s one of his shirts folded beside the sink, like he left it there without thinking. I pick it up and press it to my nose, inhaling the smell of his soap and skin.

It smells like early mornings and safety.

When I glance in the mirror, I don’t see the woman who ran away. I see someone who found herself.

For a second, the realization stings. How long had I been a shell of myself?Years.

I rest my hand on the edge of the counter and watch my reflection settle, but I know this is the calm before the storm. I’ve officially been gone for over two weeks since I took my time driving across the country to Valentine. My absence is a headline, and it’s snowballing out of control. I must end the lies.

Friday night, before I leave, I’ll check what people are saying about me. I can’t handle it right now. I want to hide a little while longer and need time to mentally prepare myself. It will be overwhelming, and I’m already anticipating as much.

After ten minutes, I find Colt in the front room, where all his building supplies have been stored. His shirt’s half tucked, half twisted, and I can tell he’s deep in thought.

He treats me like I belong to him.

The softest smile pulls at the edge of his mouth when he sees me. “You okay?”

“Yeah,” I say, sliding past him in the hall and giving his shoulder a careful bump. “Thinking a lot.”

He cocks his head. “About getting me naked?”

“Actually, yes. That thought is on repeat,” I admit, noticing how his shirt clings to his body. I force my gaze away and allow my eyes to trail around the space. “I can’t believe what we’ve accomplished.”

“It’s finally starting to feel like a house,” he says.

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