Page 50 of Wrecked for Love
It had been a long time since I felt this good—like I finally had something solid in my life. And it was all because of her. I didn’t even want to ground myself with the thought that she might just be passing through.
Then, as if the universe was listening in, my phone buzzed in my pocket. Claire. My heart gave a little leap. A surprise call from a girlfriend? That was something new.
Girlfriend…was that what she was to me now? Whether it was or not, the thought felt damn good.
“Hey, bull wrangler, how’s it going?” she opened.
“The usual,” I replied. “Koda’s been asking about you.”
“Oh…bless him!” she cooed.
“So, you on your way to Paul’s?”
“Yeah,” she said. I could hear the faint hum of her car engine. “Just pulling up now. Catch ya later, okay?”
“Okay,spicy sweetheart,” I said, emphasizing the new nickname just to hear her giggle. “Later,” I added, though tomorrow already felt far too long to wait.
As I hung up, I glanced over at Koda lounging in the grass, his eyes half-closed in the sun, looking as relaxed as ever.
We headed back to the house together. Inside, I had lunch from the leftovers of last night’s Mexican barbecue—marinated beef, grilled peppers, tortillas, and that spicy salsa I made just for her.
Koda sat at my feet, looking up at me with those big, soulful eyes, hoping for a bite.
“Not today, pal,” I said, ruffling his ears. With his age creeping up on him, I’d been feeding him special food—a blend with high protein, glucosamine for his joints, and a mix of easy-to-digest grains. It wasn’t exactly gourmet, but it kept him healthy.
The evening’s end brought a nagging thought. No matter how I tried to brush it aside, it stayed put. Before I knew it, my feet had taken me to Tessa’s room. Koda padded beside me.
I stood at the door, staring at the wood as if it were a wall I couldn’t get past. But this time, something was different. I reached out, gripped the handle, and opened the door fully. It creaked, revealing the room that had been sealed for years.
It was as if something unseen had been pulling me in. I’d had the courage to walk into The Willow, and now this felt almost too easy—like I was hypnotized. I crossed the threshold I’d avoided for so long.
Shelves upon shelves of romance books lined the walls, each one a reflection of the stories she had loved. Her bed was still neatly made, as if waiting for her to return, and her closet wasfull of clothes. On her nightstand sat the familiar photo of us—Mom, Dad, me, her, and Noah. A wave of emotions piled in, threatening to overflow.
Koda whined.
“Yeah.” I tickled the underside of his snout. “She’s the one who brought you here. You were just a pink-nosed puppy back then, the runt of the litter. But she trained you well.” I stroked his fur, running my hand from the top of his head to the base of his tail.
I looked around the room, feeling the tug of time that had been frozen here for far too long. Maybe I could donate her books to the library—if they even had space for them. And her clothes…the good ones could go to a secondhand store or maybe to someone who needed them more. It was time, wasn’t it? Time to let it all go.
But then, all at once, the emotions I had been holding back surged forward. I leaned back against the wall and slid down until I was sitting on the floor with my knees pulled to my chest. I tried to hold it together, but the grief, buried for so long, spilled out uncontrollably. Hot tears streamed down my face as I cried, not because I wasn’t ready to let her go or to let her things go but because the pain of losing her had never really left. I had pushed it down, buried it deep, and now, it came crashing back.
I always thought she would’ve laughed at me now—Tessa had taught me that crying wasn’t for boys. I understood why she said it. She’d never cried herself. I guess we didn’t have time for tears back then. Not after Mom passed—yeah, that was the last time we cried as a family. But now, sitting here, surrounded by everything Tessa had left behind, I felt, for the first time, that maybe she would’ve let me. She would’ve understood. And that thought, more than anything, broke me.
“I’m sorry, Tess.”
A few breathy sobs escaped me, the emptiness in my lungs quickly giving way to a sharp, aching pain.
Then, breaking through the stillness, Hank’s voice came from outside. “El!”
I scrubbed my face with my sleeve, my heart shifting from grief to focus. I bolted out the door. “What’s going on, man?”
“That damn prick’s back, messing with the east ridge fence.”
I saddled up and drove my horse toward the ridge, pushing hard. When I got there, the fence was down, with hoofprints leading straight into the forest. I urged my horse into a canter, hoping to catch the lowlife before he got too far. But no luck.
Hank showed up a minute later. “He’s long gone, man. Probably did this a couple of hours ago.”
We circled back to the fence, where a couple of the guys were already on it, hammering new posts into place and tightening the wire.
