Page 11 of When We Were Us
All the things I wanted to say in response were swallowed up by one glaring fact: I didn’t want any of those things. At least, not anytime soon. I didn’t want marriage and kids and life in a small town. I wanted a life that was bigger than bonfires onFriday nights and dirt bikes on Saturday mornings, as much as I loved them.
It wasn’t that I didn't wanthim. I did. But I wanted vet school and the opportunities a big city could bring, too. I wanted more than my parents had, and I knew I’d never have that in Timber Forge. More than that, Hank didn't want California. He would never be happy there. His life—his heart—was in this town and in his family ranch, and it would be his legacy.
He’d tried to talk me into a long-distance relationship, saying we could make it work, and then maybe he could move to California in a year or so. But I knew he wouldn’t. How could he when life on the ranch was all-consuming for him? He loved it. He lived and breathed that ranch, and I wouldn't take that away from him. He hadn’t wanted to hear it, but in the end, it didn’t matter. I chose for him because it was the right thing to do.
I keep seeing the image of him standing there, with beads of sweat on his brow as we stood in the late-August sun, and his light blue shirt sticking to his chest. His breathing is ragged and shallow. Shoulders tense, his face a mask of hurt and resignation, and his fists balled up against his thighs.
He pleaded with me—begged me to give us a chance—and I stood there. Tears threatened to spill, but I’d held them back.
“Wrenley, I love you. We can make this work. Please, just give me some time to figure things out.”
“I can’t do this. Can we please not do this, Hank? It’s too much. We’re too different. We want different things.”
“Just listen, baby, please.”
“No, Hank…it’s over.”
I choke out a sob and turn my face into my pillow, my heart shattering into a million tiny pieces. Curling my arms around myself, I sob until my throat is dry and my eyes ache. Alone in my bed with only my thoughts to consume me, I wonder if I’ve made the right decision.
CHAPTER FIVE
wrenley
NOW
Ginger
How’s it going, bestie?
Wrenley
Buried under a mountain of doilies and old hankies. Send help.
Ginger
You and Darryl off making backwoods babies? This is the only acceptable excuse for leaving me on read for two days. ??
Wrenley
No, just the past biting me in the ass, which is a step down from Backwoods Bob at this point.
Ginger
Darryl. Backwoods Darryl.
Seriously though…you saw Hank?
Wrenley
Yep.
Ginger
Oh shit. He’s lost all his teeth, hasn’t he? ??
Wrenley
I wish that were the problem.
