Page 53 of Love Me Again

At least with the Tylers some of it got drowned out. “Let me get my coat.”

Boone hadn’t known what to expect. He’d known she wouldn’t agree to come with him right away, but he hadn’t known what kind of fight to brace himself for.

He’d just known he wouldn’t give up until she gave in, because Josie wasn’t a solitary creature. Sometimes people thought that about her because she could be quiet, introverted. But she liked to be surrounded by people, by things going on. She liked watching it all unfold.

She didn’t like to be alone. So knowing she was out here alone felt wrong, and like he needed to fix it. He wasn’t good at knowing how to fix things, but this was easy enough, wasn’t it?

So, they trudged across the snowy yard. He could have brought the UTV. Probably should have, but he’d wanted to talk with her. Walking would take longer, and they wouldn’t have to shout over an engine.

But damn if his knee didn’t hurt. Still, he didn’t let on. He was too focused on her. Staring at the house in the distance, resolutely not looking his way.

He wanted to hold her hand. That was the very least of what he wanted to do, but he kept his shoved into his pockets.

Still maybe if he offered something he could at least get her to look his way. He glanced up at the house. The lights twinkling in dusk. The snow in little drifts around the sprawling house. He didn’t have a lot of fond winter memories, mostly because…

“I’ve never told anyone this, but I used to hate Christmas.”

She snuck him a glance as they walked. Her gaze dropped from his face to his leg then back up again. “Too perfect?” she asked, with a little acidity, but also some humor.

He no doubt deserved the acidity, and he could have let that clam him up, but he stuck with all that honesty Mom was so sure would help this situation.

“I’m sure it was perfect. I’m sure I should have enjoyed it. But…some time in December, we’d be doing some family Christmas thing, and there’d always come some point that everyone would start reminiscing about my dad, who loved Christmas, I guess. But I didn’t really remember that. The memories I have of him are more with the horses, the ranch, than…family stuff. But the family would go around sharing stories and Lindsay and I would just…” He didn’t know how to finish that sentence. It was a feeling words couldn’t fully express.

“Feel left out?”

He nodded slowly. “I guess that’s it, sort of. I think I felt like they expected me to share something, and I always felt bad that I didn’t have anything. That I didn’t remember the things they did.” Thinking about it now, though, with Josie walking next to him, he considered it in a new light. “But looking back, I think I was wrong. I think they were trying to share him with us too. And any expectation that made me feel like shit was one I put on myself.” He glanced over at her. “Sound familiar?”

She stared up at him now. They’d come to a stop in front of the porch. He was already dreading walking up the stairs.

“What was the expectation when you left me?” she asked softly, though the words landed like yet another dagger.

He didn’t look away from her pointed gaze though. Not from the hurt in them. He wanted to. God, he wanted to walk away from this, but he knew what walking away got him.

And he didn’t want that anymore.

“That you wouldn’t have to take care of me. That you and Paul would go back to taking care of each other without a third wheel who wouldn’t be able to walk or take care of himself for months. Who wouldn’t be able to earn a living for years, likely.”

“Molly said you have family money.”

Boone had to swallow at the tightness in his throat. Because she was right to point that out. Right to poke at all the ways he’d failed her. His voice was hoarse when he spoke. “I never felt right taking it. I barely remember the man it came from. And I cut my family out a lot, through no fault of their own. Why should I take their money?”

But he knew why now. To take care of yourself and your wife.

“Love is letting people take care of you, Boone. And love is taking care of people. It’s not hiding yourself away so the love doesn’t hurt.” She didn’t look at him as she said love. As she quickly and quietly eviscerated him.

“Believe it or not,” he managed to say. “That’s a lesson I’m trying to learn.”

She turned to face him then. Serious. Sad. “I’m glad,” she said earnestly. “But that doesn’t change anything for me. For us. It’s too late for us. I can’t be the collateral damage anymore. Because I don’t have anyone to pick up the pieces. Except myself.”

It felt like a stab to the heart. The serious, firm, certain way she said that. He couldn’t catch a full breath and she looked away. Toward the front door. She took the first stair.

“If Molly comes at me with anything even slightly alcoholic, you do not let me accept it. On pain of death. Got it?”

He cleared his throat, then braced himself to take the stairs and follow. “Yes, ma’am,” he managed, even though everything inside of him ached. Even though he desperately wanted to argue with her. You have me. You have them. You have all of us if you’d just let us in.

But he’d been the one to break her heart and her trust. His family might have forgiven him, but Josie never had to, if she didn’t want to.

Accepting that made him want to give up. He always gave up when things got hard, didn’t he?