Page 166 of We Drank the Dawn

His hands cupped both my cheeks as he pulled me closer. “Sarah, I forgive you.”

I exhaled with relief.

He dropped his forehead to mine. For a moment, we just sat there, touching each other, breathing the same air. This would be the perfect time to kiss him. All we had to do was lean forward a couple inches—already so close. A deep yearning for his skin on mine sent a bolt of heat through my torso, tightening me. When he wet his lips, I figured he was thinking of all the same things. But then I remembered he kissed someone else and as much as I loved him, I still didn’t know how to act with that looming between us.

As soon as I thought of the other kiss, I pulled away.

Peter’s hands dropped, letting me go.

Trying to distract my panicked thoughts about the women from the bar, I looked at our now-cold drinks. “We forgot our coffee.”

“Let me get you some fresh.” Grabbing our mugs, he went back to the counter, dumping and refilling our mugs.

When he sat back down, we started on our food.

And talked again for a long, long time.

FIFTY-SIX

Peter

By nine o’clock that night, we had talked for hours.

Topic by topic, we uncovered things.

We talked about the ranch and all the conversations we had with family.

We talked about Sarah’s time alone, everything Martha had said, and our wedding vows.

We talked about how my senses came to life and my conversation with Chip.

Then she listened as I dissected all my fears for her. I told her the wild thoughts I had about family, the future, and my health. I finally told Sarah I started having panic attacks at doctor’s appointments. I had always kept that to myself because I worried it would burden her. I talked to her about the anger and depression and she started to see how those feelings got so heavy sometimes that I couldn't physically stand beneath them.

And then we talked about children and the worries I had surrounding that, too—like losing her or losing a baby. She just listened and asked questions, trying to understand me. I admitted I needed to be in therapy, dealing with all this, and she said therapy would be good for her too. We talked a lot about her family as well, about her own fears that manifested so differently than mine.

Out of all the talks we’d had about the future, it was the longest and most indepth we ever went. Some of what we admitted was heavy, but we faced each truth head-on. And it felt really good to understand each other better.

Once I was fairly certain everyone would be in a building for the night, we took our conversation outdoors, strolling up the driveway hand-in-hand.

The gravel crunched beneath our feet and the November breeze chilled my scalp at the roots of my hair. We pressed closer to each other, walking silently past the cabins and through the barnyard. After sitting for so long, moving relaxed my muscles.

“Sarah?” I broke the silence, coming to a stop beside the barn. “I have to confess something to you.”

She stiffened, her walk faltering for a moment. “Okay.”

“It’s about the list.” I shook my head, hating the words that were about to come out of my lips, but knowing I had to say them. “I used it to distract you.”

She was quiet for several steps. “Explain what you mean.”

“When I felt you getting antsy for the next step—like engagement, marriage, or kids—I would lean into that list. It felt like a way to make you happy without doing the things I was scared to do. As kids, the list seemed like the end game, you know? Get married and have kids were just two items in a pool of so many—items we could put off forever if need be. But, as we grew up, I realized having a family was your true end game.” I shook my head. “Because I couldn’t see my future, I…I used the list to keep us exactly as we were—perpetually having fun and not taking life too seriously. Spontaneous white water adventures seemed easier and less risky to me than making plans. I didn’t even consciously realize I was delaying, but now I see my motives pretty clear.”

I stopped talking, immediately worrying when she didn’t respond.

I rushed to add more. “The list used to be so fun and so special but I tainted it. We should’ve gotten married in college and had babies way sooner. Those are good things to want, and I wanted them too, I just wanted to control the timeline. But I don’t even know what I was waiting for. Saying sorry in light of that confession sounds pretty lame, but I am sorry. I wish I could go back and do it differently.”

She was quiet for an uncomfortably long time. “I won’t lie…that hurts.”

“I know it does, Sarah.” I softly cursed, dragging a hand over my face.