Page 15 of Wildest Forever

In this broken-down farmhouse and a pretty poor excuse of a ranch, but it was all we had.

All I had.

This is where I grew up.It's all I knew, and as much as I hated what was about to happen, it was my job to make sure I kept the ranch going.I would not let this break down. I would not let the suits come in and take everything from me.

This was my home.

It was my legacy.

I wasn't about to screw it all up now because of my pride.

The only man I truly loved was dying.

He was doing this for me.

His last gift before he leaves me forever.

I watch as my throat bobs, swallowing past the lump, the thickness evident and I swear if I had food in my stomach I would have thrown it up by now.

Running my toothbrush around my teeth, I clean them then scrub my face with my cleanser before wiping it from my skin with a damp cloth then patting it dry.

With one last heavy sigh, I nod to myself and walk into my bedroom, dragging my jeans up my legs and buttoning them, I pull a loose tee over my head before sitting on the edge of my bed and rooting through my bottom drawer where my socks are. Slipping on a pair of cream socks with pretty sunflowers on, I smile at the nickname Pacey muttered a few weeks back.

I knew it was just a coincidence, but still, it kind of made my heart glow a little.

Slipping my feet into my old but comfortable cowgirl boots, I push up and grab my matching tanned cowboy hat. Pulling a brush through my long blonde hair, I tug at the knots before placing my cowgirl hat on my dressing table. Pulling on the small drawer, I pick out my concealer, mascara and lip balm.

Swiping it under my eyes, and dotting it over a couple of spots, I blend it in with my fingertip before coating my lashes in three strokes of mascara. Applying the soft lip balm to my full, dry lips, I rub them together and slip it into my back pocket. Tousling my fingers in the root of my blonde hair, I decide I need a bit of color to my cheeks, so I add some cream pink blush and blend it up my cheek bones.

Sure, I work my fingers to the bone on the ranch and get dirt under my nails, but it still doesn't stop me from wanting to put my make up on and look nice.

I was a girly girl.

Pink was my color.

Rom-coms were my jam.

Taylor Swift was my music of choice.

I liked ice coffees, losing myself in happily ever afters in the form of romance books and I adored getting flowers.

I wasn't a materialistic girl, but I liked the smaller things.

A little piece of jewellery that reminded someone of me when they saw it, any type of flower—but sunflowers were my favorite—a cupcake, an apple from an orchard or even a little penned note with the words ‘I love you’tucked onto my pillow for me to see when I wake.

I was a simple girl.

Grabbing my hat, I pop it on my head and pull on my door. The creak making me freeze. I knew the door creaked, yet I still do it most mornings. I didn't want to wake pops up but once I was out on the landing, I saw the orange glow of the light from the kitchen and I knew he was already up, no doubt a pot of hot coffee already brewed and my favorite cereal out on the side.

Moving down the stairs slowly, I stepped off the bottom one and plastered a fake smile on my face as I moved around the door frame and saw him sitting at the small, worn, untreated wooden table reading yesterday's newspaper.

I never knew why he did it, just knew he always had.

“Morning,” I walk towards him, leaning down and placing a kiss on the top of his thick, gray hair just as he tilts his head back, a warm, infectious smile on his face, dimples pressed into his full cheeks and my heart throbs in my chest.

“Morning sweetheart,” his voice is raspy as I look at his near empty coffee cup and swipe it from the table before I place it on the counter top and reach for my own mug off the branch stand and place it beside his.

Glancing over my shoulder, he is back to reading his paper.

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