Page 63 of Unbroken

The realization came slowly.Everythingwe’d been through together was based on our mutual affection for each other, even back when our teasing was full tilt. It was exactly why the gradual change from frenemies to lovers had made me feel so secure. We both knew that there was no more solid a foundation for a relationship.

I banged my fist on the steering wheel as I sped down the back roads. What the hell was I doing? I’d been so stuck in the past and worried that I couldn’t count on our relationship, that I couldn’t trust it or her. While the relationship had started out as fake, Fiona had jumped on the idea as a way tohelpme. Her motives were real and generous and consistent right from the start. I was the one who’d questioned and doubted, second-guessing everything and worrying about what people were going to say about me. The only thing that should have mattered was what I felt—and whether I could convince her to feel the same way.

The miles passed in a blur. I wasn’t ready to pick up Patrick quite yet. I needed to think through what was going to happen next, and there was no better place to do it than on the open road with the windows rolled down. Because what I was considering needed every bit of my attention.

The fresh start.

Was it truly necessary, or was I running away from imagined problems? Did I evencarewhat other people thought about me anymore? I’d stepped back from my father’s example in so many ways, but it seemed this last one still lingered—the idea that I needed to be seen a certain way. At the end of the day, why did that matter at all? One of the things I’d picked up from Fiona was the confidence to walk my own path without worrying about what everyone else thought or said. My new-found confidence was part of the reason why I’d been able to stand up to my father just now.

I squinted into the distance and envisioned setting up my new life in Half Moon. When I’d first applied for the job, it was all I wanted, but now the thought of it filled me with sadness. The very things I’d been excited about, like finding new riding spots and meeting people who didn’t know me as the pastor’s son or Charlotte’s cuckold ex-husband, now felt empty.

Because I’d be doing them without her.

I eased my foot off the pedal as everything came into focus. What I needed wasn’t a fresh start after all.

What I needed was Fiona Cafferty in my life—in any way that she would have me.

FORTY-TWO

FIONA

Ihated being in the tack room.

Everything about it reminded me of Eli, from the smell of the leather saddles to the way the overhead light flickered dramatically every now and then. I couldn’t bring myself to look at the desk where we’d made love, so I focused on pulling boxes out of the closet. Josh had told me that he wanted to expand the tiny office area as a space for all the trail team to use. He was going to have one of the hands clear everything out before he made any changes, but I’d insisted on handling it. This felt like something I needed to do to get rid of Eli’s ghost in my own way.

None of the contents of the boxes had anything to do with the trail rides program. Eli probably shoved them in the closet in an attempt to make room for himself. There were ancient tax forms, boxes of receipts, and handwritten records from the days before everything was computerized. It was stuff that should’ve been thrown out years ago, but I had a feeling I knew why they were still hanging around.

They were artifacts from my parents.

It was up to me to make the call to get rid of them. Most of it was junk, really, and could easily go into the burn bin, but I dug through everything just to be sure they held nothing the ranch still needed. Inside one of the boxes was a file folder with a handwritten note on the outside, and I recognized my father’s tidy script immediately. My eyes welled as I leaned back so I could read the words.

“My love, I promise to make dinner if you reconcile these outstanding invoices,” it read. It was signed with a little heart and the initials FC.

The file had obviously been repurposed from the original invoices and now only contained a small photo of my parents. Even though it hadn’t seen the light of day in years, the image was faded and there were water spots. My mom was leaning against my father’s chest with one hand resting on his heart. He had his arm slung around her shoulders to press her closer. My father’s face was hidden in the shadows of his cowboy hat, but I could still make out his crooked smile. My mom was looking up at him, beaming, and when I studied what she was wearing, I realized that it was a maternity shirt. Based on her haircut, the photo must have been taken when she’d been pregnant with Josh, in the blissful beginning of their marriage.

A tear slid down my cheek, and I rushed to wipe it away when I heard the door sliding open behind me.

“Hey, what are you up to?” Shannon asked. “What’s all this?”

I sniffled.

“Nothing, just making room for the new hires,” I said, throwing some of the invoices back into the box. “We can get rid of most of this stuff.” I paused and held out the file. “But not this.”

Shannon walked over and took it. She read the note and smiled, then opened the file. “Oh, they were so young,” she exclaimed. “Look how beautiful Mom was.”

“She’s pregnant with Josh in that shot.”

Shannon walked over and sat down next to me. “They seem so happy.”

“That’s because they were,” I answered quickly. “Mom and Dad had a perfect relationship. They didn’t fight. They were always in sync. Everything was easy and steady between them. No drama.”

Shannon snorted. “Whatare you talking about? They bickered constantly.”

“No, they didn’t,” I snapped back.

My sister shook her head, looking amused. “Yes, they did. I guess you were too young to remember some of the worst ones. The ranch hit a bad stretch when you were … I guess four or five? They fought a lot then. I mean, they always tried to keep it quiet, to hide it from us. But Josh and I caught them now and then. They had three kids and ran a massive ranch together; they were bound to argue!”

I stared at her silently, trying to remember our parents fighting. Had I simply blocked it from my memory or did I genuinely not remember?

---