AllFreeNovel
Share Us
"Yeah, it is. But talking about it somehow makes it feel less daunting," I admit, grateful for this shared moment of vulnerability.
We fall silent for a moment with smiles of understanding etched on our faces.
"Tyler, I've never felt this comfortable sharing my weaknesses with anyone," Sarah says, her hand brushing against mine.
"And I’ve never trusted someone enough to show them my scars. Not just the physical ones," I reply, entwining my fingers with hers. "I think we're on the path to something real here, Sarah."
She squeezes my hand, her smile a promise of continuing to spend time with me like this. "I agree. I'm looking forward to seeing where this path takes us."
Shifting slightly, I reach for the brown paper bag lying next to me on the bench, offering a lighter transition from the depths of our conversation. "You know," I begin, a playful gleam twinkling in my eyes, "I can't think of a better way to top off this heart-to-heart than sharing a bag of stale bread with some ducks." I wave the bag gently in the air between us, a silent invitation to a simple joy.
Sarah's laughter peals out, clear and vibrant against the backdrop of the park's serene beauty. "Feeding ducks? That's your grand follow-up?" she teases, her tone light and full of mirth.
I can't help but chuckle, nodding. "Absolutely. It's the perfect metaphor, isn't it? Giving what we can, even if it’s just a bit of bread, to make someone else's day a little brighter." Standing, I extend my hand to her, an offer to join me in this small, yet significant, act.
She accepts my hand with a gentle squeeze, standing gracefully. "Well, when you put it like that, how can I refuse?" Sarah's voice is soft, imbued with a newfound lightness that our conversation has bestowed upon her.
We walk over to the pond's edge, where a group of ducks has already gathered, as if they were waiting for us. I tear off a piece of bread, demonstrating how to toss it to the eager birds without getting too close. "You try," I encourage, handing her a piece.
With a cautious hand, Sarah flings the bread towards the ducks, watching in delight as they scramble over it. The simplicity of the moment, the laughter and lightness that follows, feels like a cleansing breeze, sweeping away the residual heaviness of our earlier disclosures.
"I can't remember the last time I did something like this," Sarah muses, her voice a mix of wonder and contentment. "It's silly, but it feels... freeing, somehow."
I nod, understanding the sentiment all too well. "It's the simple things, isn't it? They remind us that not everything has to be so complicated. That there's beauty and peace in the mundane if we're just willing to see it."
She leans into me slightly, a gesture of comfort and connection. "Thank you, Tyler. For today, for this." She gestures to the bag of bread, the ducks, the park, encompassing all that we've shared in a simple expression of gratitude.
"Anytime, Sarah," I reply, my heart full. "And thank you. For being brave enough to share your fears. Your dreams. It's made all the difference."
As we continue to feed the ducks, throwing bits of bread and watching as they paddle eagerly toward each offering, I can't help but feel a deep sense of anticipation for what's to come.
Today has marked a turning point, not just in our relationship but in our individual journeys of self-discovery and acceptance.
Chapter 8
Sarah
The Ranch Visit
Sitting alone in the small, cluttered office tucked away in the corner of Beartooth Ranch, I find myself surrounded by stacks of inventory forms and scattered files.
The hum of the old computer mixed with the distant sounds of ranch life creates a backdrop for my troubled thoughts. I'm methodically checking through each form, making sure we're not running low on anything essential—feed, medical supplies, maintenance tools—but my mind is elsewhere, caught in the web of my recent interactions with Tyler.
The office, usually a sanctuary of solitude and focus, now feels like a confining space where my own walls seem to close in on me. It's ironic, considering how much of my life is spent encouraging transparency and trust among our team here at the ranch. Yet, here I am, cradling my own secrets close to my chest, especially from Tyler.
Reflecting on our time at the park, the ease of our conversations, and the heartfelt exchanges, I realize how much Tyler has opened up to me. He's peeled back layers of his life, his past, his fears, and his dreams, with a level of honesty that was both unexpected and deeply moving. In contrast, I've been a guarded fortress, revealing so little, especially the fact that I'm not just Jake's sister but also a co-owner of Beartooth Ranch. The significance of this omission weighs heavily on me, creating a chasm of discomfort.
Why haven't I told him? The question gnaws at me, echoing around the sparse room. Is it fear of how he might view me differently? Or perhaps the uncertainty of exposing that aspect of my life, knowing it could change everything between us? The truth is, my feelings for him have deepened, quietly and steadily, like the roots of an ancient tree. Acknowledging these emotions scares me, not because they exist, but because I know they could lay the foundation for something genuine and meaningful—if only built on trust.
Tyler has shown me the courage it takes to be vulnerable, to share oneself wholly with another. And here I am, holding back significant threads of my own story, threads that are essential to understanding who I am and what I stand for. This realization sits heavy on my heart, a tangible weight of unease and contrition.
If I'm to honor what's growing between us, no matter how nascent or undefined, I must step into the vulnerability he's so bravely exhibited. Keeping this part of my life hidden feels incongruent with the foundation we're laying together, a foundation I hope can be built on mutual openness and shared truths.
Taking a deep breath, I push the inventory forms aside, a symbolic clearing of space for what needs to be done. It's time to share my truth with Tyler, to invite him into this integral part of my life. It's a risk, but one that's necessary. For the potential of 'us' to flourish, it must be nurtured by honesty, however daunting that may be.
I decide that the walls of my office are closing in on me, each piece of paperwork a brick adding to the confinement. I need air, space, anything that's not suffused with the weight of my unshared secrets. Pushing back from my desk, I stand and make my way outside, the cool breeze a welcome caress after the stuffiness of indoors.
Just as I take a deep breath, trying to draw in the serenity of the vast, open skies above the ranch, a voice slices through the quiet. "Sarah!" My heart skips, knowing instinctively who it is before I even turn. And there he is—Tyler, his approach easy and confident, with a little boy trotting at his side who is the very image of him. My eyes widen in surprise, a thousand questions surging to the forefront of my mind.
