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She drank some champagne. "When I moved to New York a year later, I kept hoping I'd somehow bump into you."
"And you did, at Claudio's house, of all places."
She chuckled. "What were the odds, right? Yas told me it was okay to love someone even if they hurt us or didn't love us back. We couldn't control how other people acted, only how we reacted."
"I'm sorry I didn't have the chance to meet her. She sounds like a remarkable woman."
Her eyes swam with tears, but they didn't fall. "I miss her so much. Whenever Flora does something amazing, I want to tell Yas how great her daughter is. I want her to know that her daughter is loved like we were not."
"You've done an amazing job raising her. She's wonderful." I filled her glass with more champagne.
"Are you trying to get me tipsy?"
"No. Absolutely not." I didn't want her to think that I was in any way trying to manipulate her.
"It was a joke, Rowan," she cajoled.
I sighed. "I don't want to fuck this up."
"You're not," she assured me. "You're the same…but also different. A little…smoother around the edges."
I laughed. "That's one way to describe it. I spent a lot of time self-flagellating after you left. The first year was the hardest. I missed you all the time. Your absence was like a fucking toothache that never got better. I couldn't understand how someone I'd known for a short three weeks could have such an impact on me."
"I know that feeling," she admitted.
"I was in San Francisco for a meeting, and at the hotel bar—that's usually where I found someone for the night. There was a woman there; good-looking, willing, interested. But I couldn't bring myself to take her to my room. That's when I knew I was in trouble."
She set her glass down. "You slept with a lot of women…after?" She didn't look at me when she asked the question.
I lifted her chin with a finger, so she'd see my eyes when I spoke. "A few. But it's been a while. The few times I did, it made me feel empty. So, I stopped. I got busy with the ranch, and I moved out of the house."
"You did?"
"Yeah." I let go off her chin and took her hand in mine. "I can't fucking stand Caitlyn. I remodeled one of the old bunkhouses into a home for myself. It's small, but it suits me. I built a wraparound porch, and the views are, as you must remember, spectacular." I played with her fingers, wanting to keep touching her a long as she'd let me.
"You're close to your nieces?" she asked me.
"Yeah. Amy and Clara." I showed her pictures on my phone and told her about them. "Even though they’re not mine, I feel like they are, and they temper me."
"Flora does that for me," she admitted.
"Will you tell me something?"
"Depends upon what you want to know."
She had become so careful. Six years ago, she'd have just said yes, no caveats. "Fair enough. I triggered you at the bar that day, didn't I?"
She looked uncomfortable with the question. "It was the sexual contact followed by how you talked to me…the way you laughed."
I remember laughing harshly, trying to hide how desperately I wanted her. My laughter was followed by ugly and hurtful words. "Darlin', no matter how hot you get me, I'm not putting my dick inside you if my brother's been there recently. I'm not into sloppy seconds, especially my brother's."
"I'm so sorry, Isha. My lack of self-awareness, my inability to understand how I felt about you, my fear…all of it cost you."
"I was a willing participant."
"You were twenty-one, I was twenty-nine. I think we know who the grown up in that situation was."
"You are way older than me," she mocked.
