Page 37 of Heartstrings & Horseshoes

He goes to the ends of the earth to care for me, provide for me, and protect me. He even brought Reid a bag full of my necessities while I stay at the ranch.

He finds ways to keep me away from other men but dates other women and lets them touch him. The mixed signals have knotted me up for years, and my rope frayed so far I cut loose to save myself from drowning.

Connor texted me steadily our first night apart. The next couple of days were filled with missed calls and texts I didn’t respond to. Now, I get one or two texts a day like the one I’m staring at.

I miss you too…but it doesn’t change anything.

“Twinie?” Isabelle’s sweet voice floats into my temporary bedroom. “I brought you coffee.”

“Thanks, sissy.” We sit side by side on the bed and sip our morning caffeine. She’s been uncharacteristically quiet during my stay here. I feared she’d be in my business, but she’s given me as much space as I ask for but welcomes me when I’m ready for company.

“Want to come down to the stables this morning?” she asks.

We’ve spent time with Reid every day familiarizing ourselves with the horses and it’s incredibly soothing. These few days have reaffirmed my desire to work in equine therapy.

“I’d love to. But it’s time to face the music. I need to go home and talk to Connor. We can’t stay in limbo forever. We’ve been friends for too long to let a wound like this fester.”

Izzy narrows her icy blue eyes, searching for answers I don’t have.

“Okay, I’ll drive you.”

I stand outside our front door, unable to enter the apartment. Connor’s truck was in the parking lot, so I know he’s home.

Whatever happens next will irreversibly change the course of our relationship.

The decision is made for me when Connor opens the door and nearly bowls me over.

“Shit, Delilah, are you okay? I’m so sorry, I didn’t see you.” His hands hover awkwardly, careful not to touch me.

Purple and blue color the bags under his hollow eyes. His hair is a mess, and he must’ve slept in the clothes he’s wearing. He looks as bad as I feel.

He clocks the bag at my feet and his sorrow-filled eyes meet mine for an explanation.

“We need to talk.” The dreaded four words that leave my lips taste like poison.

Connor’s face breaks further, but he takes my bag and follows me into the apartment. It looks exactly like I left it. Either he’s kept it meticulously clean, or he hasn’t moved a thing in my time away. Both options plague me with guilt for leaving him.

He sits on the edge of the couch, elbows on his knees, hands clasped, and head dropped between his shoulders. I’d normally sit beside him so close our thighs would touch. But it feels wrong today, so I sit with a cushion between us—which also feels wrong.

I’m not meant to be away from Connor.

His back tightens, hating the cavern of space separating us as much as I do. I’m the one who came home unannounced and declared we need to talk—but I have no words.

“Are you okay?” Connor asks. My sweet man. His first concern is always me.

“I’m not sure.”

“What can I do to fix this? I’ll do anything,” he pleads, head still hanging low, jaw clenching rhythmically.

Not anything.

The only fix for this is if he wants me like I want him—and he doesn’t.

“Can you at least tell me what happened at the party that upset you? I couldn’t stop that prick from spiking your drink, but I stopped you from drinking it. I swear to god, I was already on his heels to confront him. I lost it, Del. I didn’t mean to scare you.” His head lifts enough to see me through his mop of hair.

“You didn’t scare me, Connor. You saved me. That isn’t why I left,” I explain.

“Why did you leave?” he rasps.