Page 37 of The Pieces We've Lost

After five months of drinking and isolating myself from everyone, Reid finally figured out what was going on and was able to intervene. I was halfway through another bottle of Pendleton when Reid barged into my trailer. He didn’t yell at me or make a scene like I had assumed would happen when the truth about my drinking came to light. He only said one thing and that was the moment I knew I needed to get my shit together and be better.

He looked at the bottle and then looked at me. “Hey, buddy. I know what’s going on and I’m here for you. No matter what. Through the worst and the best, I’m always going to be there for you and I hope you know that. I want to help you. Please, let me help you.”

I blinked away the memory, doing my best to keep a neutral expression so she wouldn’t suspect something was wrong. Everything was better now; I wasn’t in the place I was back then. And since I met Ellison, I hadn’t had nightmares—the ones I knew were a result of the breakup and events that followed.

I’d noticed over the past few days that I’d been sleeping through the night and waking up well rested instead of in a pool of sweat in the early morning hours. There was something calming about her presence, or perhaps my mind was so occupied with her that it didn’t have room to throw my trauma back at me, but I still didn’t feel strong enough to reveal the darkest parts of my past.

I didn’t want her to see me differently, to prove that my fears were true. I was weak, selfish, and I knew that. A stronger man would have told her everything. But I wasn’t ready. I could hardly talk to my best friend about it. I still hid things from Reid, especially the fact I still had nightmares and occasional panic attacks.

CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

ellison

Ifound myself back in the last place I ever thought I’d be this week: the grandstands, watching the first semifinal round of the Houston Rodeo. Colter hadn’t asked me to come, but I wanted to show up for him like he had for me. I had swallowed my pride and I was here, even if it brought up feelings I didn’t want to address.

I sat alone in the bleachers, not worried about anyone approaching me. Without my mother here, it felt like a small weight was lifted off my shoulders. I told her I was out with Isabelle tonight.

It wasn’t something that she expected of me—more a testament to our mother-daughter relationship—but I always let her know if I was going somewhere in hopes that she wouldn’t worry too much about me. She never really asked questions about my whereabouts and I knew it was because she trusted me—hell, I was twenty-three years old, so there was no reason for her to be suspicious. Besides the fact that I had been lying to her for the past week, something I’d never felt the need to do before.

Sometimes my guilty conscience caught up to me.Howcould you lie so easily to your mother?I didn’t think it was so much that lying was easy. I thought of it more as self-preservation. The less people who knew about Colter, the less hearts would get broken in the end.

I was watching the performance when a woman sat next to me. She couldn’t have been much older than I was and she was holding a baby girl who didn’t look more than a year old. The child was fussy, thrashing around, a toy in hand. Moments later, the toy flew out of the child’s hand and landed on the ground, causing her to wail.

Before the woman could attempt to hold her child and also pick up the toy, I grabbed it for her.

“Oh, thank you,” she said to me.

“Of course, it’s no problem.”

“I really appreciate it. This little one is a handful. I’m Cora.” She introduced herself with a smile.

“Ellison. It’s nice to meet you.” I smiled back at her.

“Are you here for anyone?” she asked, while trying to settle her baby.

“Kind of.” I didn’t exactly know how to answer her question. Technically, yes, I was here for Colter, but I wasn’t necessarily with him. “I’m a friend of Colter Carson.”

“Oh, Colter is a sweet man.”

“Yes, he is very sweet,” I agreed.

“You’re very lucky.” She smiled at me, seemingly understanding what “friend” meant.

A feeling of jealousy washed over me for a moment, but I snapped out of it as my face flushed with embarrassment.

She has a kid.

Before I could say anything else, she let out a small laugh. “That look on your face tells me that he may be alittle more than a friend.” Her tone wasn’t accusing at all, just slightly amused as I fought to make my expression more neutral.

“So, you know him pretty well?” I asked, changing the subject.

“He’s friends with my husband, Wyatt. He and his roping partner, Reid, have stayed with us in Colorado before when they’ve been on the road. He’s been through a lot in the past few years.” She paused and lowered her voice a little. “Between you and me, I know it’s hard for him to trust people, to really open up about his feelings and not only be the high-spirited personality that everyone sees at the rodeos, so you must be really special to him.”

I let her words sink in for a second. I never once thought of Colter as being unable to trust people. Every time he’d been around me he had been open and honest, as far as I knew, but he did say his parents’ divorce really affected him. So hearing it from someone else, that I was special to him, really solidified everything for me.

“Thank you. He’s a great person, and I feel lucky to have met him. I want him to know how much it means to me that he cares. I want to be there for him too.” I surprised myself by saying that out loud, but it was true. If other people could see what he saw, then maybe I could see it for what it was too. Colter liked being around me, and I liked being around him.

“He needs someone like that in his life. I’m glad he has you.”

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