so sure of the answer that I keep listening, despite my frustration.
“You need to ask yourself if you want to be happy or right.”
“I don’t understand.” It’s like he’s speaking in a riddle.
He gazes at me intently. “You paid a price for what you have today. It was hard, and it was lonely, and it beat you down, but you kept getting back up. So I ask you, when’s the last time you got back up?”
“That’s what I was trying to do,” I yell. “And look where it got me. I took the risk and got burned.”
A muscle works in his jaw, and he’s silent for a moment before he goes on. “You asked me why I kept going back, even though I shouldn’t have. But the truth is, I made a choice. Maybe it was the wrong choice, and the stupid choice, and maybe everyone saw me as a fool for making it, but right or wrong, I didn’t care. I loved her, and I loved you three hellions. I didn’t want anything else. Yeah, it says something about me, but I never saw myself as a victim. I chose to take the part of her she gave me. I chose to be the role model my brother refused to be. Those nights when we all sat around the table laughing and eating dinner together, those were like little glimpses of heaven to me. I don’t regret them, even the mistakes, because they were mine. I own them. Right or wrong.”
But he settled, can’t he see that? Doesn’t he see how it was so much less than he deserved? I want more, goddamn it.
I raise a brow. “Are you saying I should stick with Caden even though he’s a flight risk? Even if I have evidence that he leaves when things get hard? You’re saying I should be like momma and stand by my man?”
“Fuck no.” He rolls his eyes at the ceiling. “I’m saying own your life, Cat. Make it yours, and then you’ll feel like it belongs to you.”
The wind seeps out of my sails. I can almost grasp what he’s saying, but not quite. I turn toward the window. It’s started to rain. Good. The crops need it.
“How do I do that?” I ask.
“Stop running and face it. Deal with it, with open eyes and a willing heart.”
“I’ll try.” I wipe away what feels like an endless stream of tears and pick up my tea. I’m glad I stayed sober and clear headed.
I have a feeling I’m going to need it.
23
Cat
It wasn’t hard to find out where she was staying. It’s not like there’s that many places to choose from. And considering I knew what car she was driving, she was easy to spot.
The next morning, I pull into the motel parking lot and contemplate my next move. The place is nearly empty, so I assume her car is approximately in front of her room. I take a gamble, climb out, and start knocking on doors.
The first room is empty.
In the second, a disgruntled, disheveled man is clearly sleeping off last night.
Third time is the charm.
She opens the door. She doesn’t look surprised. In fact, she looks downright pleased to see me. I get my first up-close look at her, and as much as I hate to admit it, she’s even more beautiful. Her blond hair looks like sunlight, and her eyes are big and wide, a crystal-clear blue that suits her bone structure perfectly.
Dressed in a white sleeveless top and skinny jeans, she’s rocking that California, bohemian-chic style, right down to her bare feet and pale pink toes. It’s a look I could never pull off in a million years—a thought particularly distressing considering my eyes are puffy, my face drawn, and I feel like ten miles of bad road.
These are all things I can’t be concerned about right now. I have other things that need to be dealt with, and I’m not about to let the disparity of our appearances distract me.
Last night, I laid in bed staring at the ceiling, unable to sleep. At around three AM, after I churned over and analyzed my relationship with Caden, ruminated over my life, and contemplated my past, I realized Uncle Beau was right. I keep waiting for some mysterious force to sweep over me and magically make me feel like I’m in control and belong in my own life.
And that’s never going to happen.
If I want control, I need to take it.
If I want to