Page 5 of The Pieces We've Lost

“Yeah, I know, and I appreciate it. You don’t have to worry about me, though. My focus is all on bringing home some more gold,” I insisted.

I hated hiding things from Reid, but it was easiest to cover the truth with a hard exterior. To act like nothing was wrong and be the charismatic, friendly face everyone knew and loved. For the most part, the charismatic, friendly face wasn’t a facade. But sometimes, it was. That was the cold, ugly truth. It had been two years since the split. I didn’t want nor need the pity glances that came my way if I so much as dropped my walls during those moments of vulnerability, and deep down, I still felt guilty for how everything happened. I blamed myself for my relationship failing and had always assumed it was because I wasn’t good enough for her. If Reid saw through the mask I put on for everyone, he didn’t say anything.

“We’ll get it done, buddy.” He clapped me on the shoulder as he rose from his chair. “Well, it’s getting late. I’d better get back home.”

I gave him a nod as he headed toward his truck and then drove away.

I walked into the small double wide I owned and flicked on the light switch on the wall right inside the doorway. I didn’t have a whole lot in the house because I was always on the road for rodeos.

After kicking off my boots, I threw my cap onto the kitchen counter and looked into the living room where there was a small couch, a TV sitting on a bookshelf serving more as storage for baseball caps than books, and a dining table with two chairs.

My room had a queen-size bed, a nightstand, and a spot in the corner where I kept a lot of my gear. I wasn’t much for decorating, so my array of cowboy hats were the sole pieces of “art” hanging on the walls.

The house was no more than a place where I could laymy head, not something I would necessarily call “home.” But I was fine with that. I didn’t need the fancy house with all of the decorations and furniture. I had no one to impress.

The road and the rodeo were my home, the only places where I really felt like I belonged. The people I traveled with were the only people who mattered.

Don’t get me wrong, I grew up with a great family in a loving home, at least for a while when it was important. But as I grew older, I gained another one in the guys I rodeoed with. My family, of course, supported me every step of the way, but there was something different about the brotherhood.

Soph

I just don’t think this is working out, Colt. I hope you can understand where I’m coming from.

I stared at the text I had received a couple hours ago. There was no explanation. No, “I’m sorry,” no offer to talk and work something out. Sophie had broken my heart as quickly as she had stolen it from me, all with a single text message.

What do you mean? Please, let’s just talk this out.

Soph

This isn’t something we can talk about right now. I need space. I’ll talk to you when I’m ready. Please don’t call me.

I debated calling her anyway. The devil on my shoulder told me to go off on her for her selfish way of ending our relationship, but I tossed that idea as quickly as it formed. Starting a fight wasn’t going to make the situation any better or convince her to change her mind. Burning bridges wouldn’t get me where I needed to go.

I had to focus on winning. I was traveling to rodeos to make a living, to provide us with a future, and I needed to remember that. It was all for her. Everything I did, all of the hours I spent away, was to set us up for a comfortable life.

Maybe she’ll change her mind, I hoped. After a few hours of thinking, she’ll realize we were made for each other. She’ll decide that ending the engagement would be a terrible idea.

A week of me giving her the space she had asked for went by, and she never called me. Instead, I opened the door one morning and discovered the ring I had bought her sitting on the doorstep. After that, I decided to call her.

One ring and the call went to voicemail.“Hi! You’ve reached Sophie Andersen. I’m sorry I can’t make it to the phone right now, but leave your name, number, and a message and I’ll return your call as soon as I can.”

The beep of the voicemail system rang in my ear, but I couldn’t say anything. I had so much I wanted to say, but I couldn’t get the words out, so I hung up.

A couple days later, I tried calling again but immediately received a busy dial tone. It didn’t take a rocket scientist to know she had blocked my number. That was when I knew it was really over. What was the point in continuing to fight, in trying to fix something broken beyond repair, if she wouldn’t even talk to me? I hated the idea of throwing away everything we had built the lastcouple years, but the message was received.She didn’t want me.

I tried to think of the weeks prior to the breakup. Yeah, we had our fair share of arguments, but nothing other couples weren’t also experiencing. There was no warning. Right before I left for Arizona, everything had been fine. Better than fine. We seemed happy. I was aware she didn’t like how often I was on the road, but I kept reassuring her that she was the only woman I loved. I was doing this for our future.

A car horn blaring outside my window woke me from my dream, or nightmare, about my failed relationship. They weren’t as frequent as they had been in the year after the breakup, but I still had them occasionally, usually when there was pressure building on me to succeed. With the Houston Rodeo coming up, it made sense. Even though I didn’t feel like I was stressed or nervous, my body probably was.

I groaned as I tapped my phone screen to see what time it was.

The digital numbers seemed to mock me and my attempt at getting any amount of sleep.

It was still dark outside, but I rolled out of bed and walked over to the window to see what all the ruckus was about. I peered out and saw what no one wanted to see this early in the morning.

I opened the window enough that I could yell throughthe screen. “Mikey, you dumbass, what the hell are you doing?”

“What does it look like, Carson? I’m trying to get my damn truck!” he yelled back.

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