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“It’s fine.” I shake it away. “It’ll be fine.”
“Zara,” she whispers again, and I can hear the pity in her voice.
“I said it’s fine,” I snap, the lone tear escaping. “It’s all good. It was a vacation fling, and hopefully, if we ever see each other again, it won’t be awkward.”
“I’m so sorry. Is there anything I can do?”
“No, I have to go and get ready to do a walk-through at my old place.”
“It’s five o’clock in the morning,” she reminds me.
“I know. I’m going to go and mentally prepare for it,” I hiss. “Now give my nephew a kiss from me and tell him I’m his favorite aunt.”
“Obviously,” she says, making me laugh. “Call me if you want to talk.”
“Will do,” I reply, knowing full well I will never call her to talk about this. There is no one on this earth I want to talk to about this, except well, obviously, the man I want.
I have my coffee in the living room, opening up the drapes, but instead of seeing the forest I’ve grown to love, I see a brownstone that looks like mine but only a different color. All the lights are off in most of the houses up and down the street. The streetlights look like they are still on but on dim. In the matter of seconds it takes me to look up and down the street, five cars have zoomed by the front of my house.
I shake my head, closing the drapes, and instead go up the stairs to have coffee in my bed and not think about the quiet little house I left behind or the man who somehow took a hold of my heart without me even knowing.
22
GABRIEL
I pull up to the barn, parking next to my cousin Charlie’s truck, open the door, and step out.
My boots hit the dusty driveway as I grab my phone and put it in my jacket pocket before making my way inside to go straight for the kitchen to pour myself a cup of coffee.
“Well, well…” someone says from the side of the barn, and I look at JB and Charlie, both leaning against a stall with their own cups of coffee in their hands. “There he is, Dopey.”
I stop walking, my eyebrows pinching together. “That’s not his name; it’s Mopey.” Charlie laughs. “It’s Mopey.”
“What the fuck are you two going on about?” I ask but don’t really care. I haven’t cared about anything since she left.
“You’ve been fucking Mopey Dick for the past fucking month,” Charlie declares. “If you aren’t mopey, you’re grumpy.” It’s been a month, and I thought it would get easier after two weeks, but then I spiraled down even further. Every turn I made, I thought I saw her. Everything I did, I wanted to text her. Every fucking day when I opened my eyes, I stupidly reached out for her in the bed but came up empty.
“What the fuck are you two hens gossiping about?” I almost hiss while I grab a white mug hanging on the wall and pour myself a cup of coffee. “Shouldn’t you be working?” I look over at JB. “And you, aren’t you busy getting all your ducks in a row for your new place?” I lean against the counter, taking a sip of the coffee.
“I am working,” JB states. “We’re discussing what we are going to do for the day, and then you walked in, so now we’re discussing how you need to get laid, and maybe you’ll be in a better fucking mood.”
“Perhaps you shouldn’t be thinking about my dick to begin with.” I try to hide the smirk when JB glares at me while Charlie snickers beside him.
“Do you notice it’s just the two of us?” JB replies, and I look around. “It’s because no one wants to be with you.”
“That’s not true,” Charlie says, shaking his head. “Your father and Pops are okay with being with you.”
“I’m fine,” I snap, pushing away from the counter. “I’m just tired.”
“From what?” JB asks. “How hard is it to mope around being grumpy?”
“It takes a lot of energy,” Charlie interjects, and I turn my glare over to him. “Don’t kill the messenger.” He pushes away from the stall. “Now, let’s go through the horses so I can pick the ones I want to take over to the other barn, and then I need to go over the horses I’m taking down to Montgavin this weekend.”
“Then you guys do have work to do.” I finish the coffee, making it burn all the way down. “So I suggest you get to work.” I walk out of the barn toward the fenced arena, looking at the horses we brought in two days ago.
JB and Charlie quickly follow me outside, Charlie with a clipboard and JB with another one. “Let’s get started.” I don’t give them room to talk because if they say one more thing about my mood, or how I’ve been this past month, I’m going to throat punch the both of them and hog-tie them together.
We work side by side until we hear some truck doors close and see my Uncle Quinn arriving. The four of us go through the list of horses, making sure we are all on the same page. We make a plan to move the horses to the other stable. The phone beeps in my pocket, and I take it out, my heart speeding up, thinking that maybe, just maybe, it might be her.
