Page 32 of Grit
“I told you, you can’t have a relationship with another person—”
“Missy, do you know how old I am?”
She frowned. “Uh… I don’t think I do, actually.”
“I’m forty-six.”
“Really?”
“Really.”
Okay, that was older than she thought, but Cary must have good genes because he was sexy as hell and he climbed mountains, for heaven’s sake.
He cut off another piece of nectarine and fed it to her. “I’ve never had a partner die. Not a wife or a girlfriend. But I was married before. I’ve had serious relationships that ended. Some of them pretty badly.”
“I remember when you married Aneesha.” Teenage Melissa had been crushed. And then she decided that Kyle Robinson was going to take her to her first high school dance. She wore a purple dress.
Cary said, “And I remember when you married Calvin. I was there, in fact.”
“I was at school when you and Aneesha broke up,” she said. “I remember Mom telling me about it though.”
Melissa had been sad, but not overly interested. She’d already met Calvin and had decided it was fate that they’d met in Texas, two ranching kids from California. Melissa had planned her wedding years before it happened, utterly confident that her life would go exactly as planned.
“Life is weird,” she said. “And unexpected. And weird.”
“Life is long,” Cary said. “And you know what I’ve learned since my marriage to Aneesha fell apart?”
Melissa shifted so she could see his face.
“I’ve learned that every person we meet changes us. Sometimes in good ways. Sometimes in bad. Sometimes both. But we’re changing all the time.”
“What does this have to do with Calvin?”
“You’re not the woman you were when you married Calvin, Missy. I’m not the man I was when I married Aneesha. Which is good, because I was kind of an arrogant bastard back then.”
“Really?”
“Yeah. I was. And getting divorced knocked a lot of that out of me. Aneesha changed me. Changed who I am.”
Melissa frowned. “But she didn’tdie, Cary.”
“No, but in a lot of ways—important ways—I am who I am because of her. And in that sense, she’s still with me all the time. So is my dad, who taught me how to be a man. So is Jenny Christiansen, who taught me how to kiss—you did ask—and every other person I’ve been with. Every other person I’ve loved.”
“So you’re saying Calvin is always going to be with me.”
“Of course he is.” Cary moved her hair to the side and kissed her neck, making Melissa shiver. “Not only with you, but with Abby. With your mom. On the ranch. He put his mark all over that place.”
“I forget his voice sometimes,” she blurted out. “Forget the sound of my name when he said it. Is that terrible?”
“No. It’s normal. It’s been six years.”
She rubbed her knuckles over her eyes. “But then I feel close to him when I’m riding in the north pasture. He loved going up there in the spring to see the wildflowers. We took Abby there for a picnic when she was only a baby. Sometimes when I’m there, it’s like… if I turned around, he’d be sitting on the fence. Waiting for me.”
“I think that’s beautiful,” Cary said softly. “And I’m glad. Do you think that bothers me? Why would it bother me? He was my friend.” Cary blinked hard. “And I miss him, but that doesn’t keep me from wanting you. Or recognizing what’s been growing here for years.”
Melissa cleared her throat. “I don’t know if I’m ready for what you want, Cary. Even if I can accept what you’re saying—”
“What do you think I want?” he asked. “No, don’t tell me yet, because I can almost guarantee you’re going to get it wrong.” He put a finger over her lips when she opened her mouth. “No. Stop. Just… don’t assume.”
