Page 111 of Saltwater Cowboy

I closed my eyes again, letting the warmth of his words wrap around me like a blanket. I didn’t know what the future held or if the dried flowers would turn into something bigger than I could imagine. But for the first time in a long time, I felt like I was on the right path. I was moving forward, and I wasn’t doing it alone.

We stayed like that for a while, the world outside fading away as I let myself rest in the comfort of Wells’ presence. I knew there would be hard days ahead but I felt ready to face them. With Wells by my side, maybe I could finally stop running from who I was. Maybe I could stop hiding from the pieces of myself that I had kept buried.

When I finally lifted my head to look at him, I found him watching me, his gaze soft and full of understanding. I smiled faintly, feeling the first stirrings of hope in my chest.

“How was your date?” I asked, afraid of the answer.

“It was fine. She was lovely.”

I swallowed my pride and rolled onto my back and looked up at the stars. “That’s great.” I poked his side, trying to hide any emotion. “Going out again soon?”

“Maybe.” Wells deadpanned.

I tried to swallow the lump in my throat, my eyes searching for the stars above as I tried to push down the strange mix of emotions swirling inside me.

“Probably not.”

I froze, sitting up sharply. “Why not?”

Wells sat up with me, his expression thoughtful. He shrugged, a flicker of uncertainty in his eyes. “I’m not sure if she’s my type.”

“Oh,” I said quietly, the word barely more than a breath. I paused for a moment, processing. “I’m sure the right woman is out there for you,” I added.

Wells met my gaze, his eyes soft, and for a brief moment, I saw something flicker there—something that felt too personal, too raw for him to share out loud. But before I could try to decipher it, he cleared his throat and leaned back, stretching his legs out in front of him.

“Yeah, I’m sure,” he said, his tone steady but distant.

I nodded, though I wasn’t entirely sure if I believed him or if he believed it. The silence between us grew heavier. I couldn’t shake the feeling that something unsaid lingered in the air, between us, like the unspoken things that always hang in the spaces where two people get too close.

I tried to focus on the stars, to pull my mind away from the sudden discomfort, but it was hard. There was a strange ache inside me, something I wasn’t ready to admit even to myself.

“So,” I said, breaking the silence before it swallowed us whole, “what do you think makes someone your type?”

Wells let out a slow breath, as if he was still considering how to answer the question. “Someone who doesn’t make me feel like I have to change who I am.”

I felt a tightness in my chest at his words, though I wasn’t sure why. Maybe it was the way they resonated with me, how I felt like I’d been trying to change for so long, trying to fit into expectations I never really signed up for.

“That makes sense,” I said softly, glancing over at him. “I get that.”

He looked over at me, and this time there was no mistaking the look in his eyes—a mixture of curiosity and something else I couldn’t quite place. “What about you, Rose? What’s your type?”

I felt my heart race at the question. It wasn’t something I’d expected to be asked, and suddenly, I felt exposed. What did I even want? What kind of person did I think I could trust, after everything?

“I don’t know,” I admitted, my voice a little quieter. “I think I’ve been so busy trying to figure out what I need to do with my life that I haven’t really thought about who I need in it.”

Wells nodded slowly, like he understood what I was getting at, even though I wasn’t entirely sure myself. “It’s hard to figure that out when you’re just trying to keep your head above water,” he said quietly. “But I think when you do, you’ll know.”

I wasn’t sure what to say to that. I wanted to believe him, but the more I thought about it, the more I realized I didn’t have all the answers. I didn’t even have half of them.

The air around us felt warmer now, the weight of the unspoken things settling between us like a shared understanding. It was the kind of quiet that felt comforting in a way I hadn’t expected, especially after hearing about his date. But as we sat there, side by side, under the stars, something shifted.

I turned to look at Wells again, his profile etched against the dim light of the moon. “Do you think you’ll find her? The right woman?”

He didn’t answer right away. He just stared ahead, his jaw tight, his fingers drumming absentmindedly on the ground.

“I think I’m not lookin’ for someone to complete me. I think I just want someone who can be there. Who’s with me, you know?” He finally said, his voice a little gruff.

I nodded. I couldn’t explain why, but his words hit something deep inside me. I didn’t know if it was the vulnerability in his voice, or the realization that maybe I’d been looking for the wrong things too.