28. Chapter Twenty-Eight

Chapter Twenty-Eight

Nolan — Now

T his would be considered a picture-perfect moment.

The sun was high, hidden behind a thin layer of clouds. The temperature was perfect, warm and toasty with a faint breeze. Jake was knee-deep in the lake, and I sat on the beach, whittling.

Or at least, it would’ve been a picture-perfect moment were it not for Jake’s poor attitude.

I waited until his tenth heavy sigh before I said, “If you’ve got something to say, just say it.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“No?” I set my knife down atop the sand. “Then why have you been groaning for the past hour? You trying to pass a kidney stone?”

He flipped me off, and I’d bet the only reason he didn’t try to make me eat my words was so he didn’t startle the fish. “Why don’t you tell me why you’ve been with me all morning instead of spending time with your wife?”

Wishing I’d kept my mouth shut, I picked up my knife and set it against my wood block. I rough-cut into it, letting myself get a few strokes in before I said, “This is what we always do. I don’t know why you’re complaining.”

“Yeah. But Indy’s here. ”

She was, and that was saying a lot. We weren’t on private property, it was open to anyone, but I’d only ever spent time here with Jake. We’d come separately, or occasionally together, but always when the world was a little too loud, and a whole lot of heavy. It was a haven of sorts, a place to just be. I’d had several places like that growing up. Dad had given us one. I’d gone there a time or two as an adult, but I tried to only go when I was feeling good, steady. It felt like I was tainting it otherwise.

It was why Indy was across the field and I was over here.

“How much more time are you going to waste?” Jake pressed. “Don’t you think it's been long enough?”

I clenched my jaw, regretting how comfortable he had gotten calling me out. The only plus side was I got to return the favor. “What exactly are you expecting me to do?”

He shrugged like the answer was obvious. “Stop being a jackass and win her back.”

Unable to help myself, I glanced Indy’s way. She sat on the forest floor, her back propped against a tree—where she’d been when I’d let myself look ten minutes ago. We’d been here since yesterday evening, and we’d barely talked. She’d dedicated most of her morning to preparing for the fundraiser, even walking to find service so she could call a few locals and see if they were interested in running a booth. I thought she might work our entire camping trip, but she’d sat down an hour ago, seemingly in no hurry to get up. She was weaving grass between her fingers, Genny asleep between her legs. Every now and then, I’d catch her smiling to herself, enough I was curious to see what she was making, but I didn’t let myself get up and find out.

I shook my head, clearing my thoughts. “That’s not what this is—I’m not trying to win her back.” Indy wasn’t a prize to be won, and not one I deserved.

He snorted. “Is that right? Well, then why’d you bring her here if you’re not going to spend time with her?”

Because I wanted her close. I was selfish. I needed to know she hadn’t left me, at least not yet. But when I was feeling like this, when it was a battle to keep my head clear . . . I didn’t want to drag Indy into that. I’d already taken too much from her, and I’d be damned if I let myself hurt her the way I had before.

Because Jake was Jake, and he’d seen me at my lowest, I wasn’t entirely surprised he seemed to know where my thoughts lay. “It’s not contagious, Nolan.”

I shook my head—I wasn’t in the right headspace to have this conversation. I started gathering my things to leave, then stopped when he said, “You’ve had people walk away from you. First your mom and then Indy. I know you think I’m clueless, but I can assure you, neither of them left because of you.” My throat tightened with unease, but I didn’t walk away. Jake was the closest thing I had to a father figure, and sometimes . . . shit, sometimes I needed my dad. “One of those women you begged for years to come home. It took her breaking your heart several times before you wised up and realized you were better off. But the other one? She’s sitting right there, all by her own free choice, and you’ve never once asked her to come home. The only thing stopping you from being with her is you.”

My throat swelled as I remembered the last time I’d asked Mom to come home. It was after Dad passed. I hadn’t seen her since I was seven, and I was shocked, to say the least, when she’d called to check in. I’d considered for years all the things I’d say, how I’d demand to know why we weren’t enough for her. But those thoughts vanished once I heard Mom’s voice. She’d caught me at a weak point, and I was so desperate I didn’t realize she was using me until it was too late. Until my brothers and I stood on her porch in California, our wallets empty and hearts aching as she looked us in the eye and told us she didn’t want to see us again.

I should’ve learned by then: clutching to someone who clearly wants to be gone doesn’t stop them from leaving. It just suffocates them.

I didn’t respond and Jake didn’t push—there was no need. I knew the truth. I hadn’t ever asked Indy to come home. Instead, I’d pushed her away. Even after I promised her it wouldn’t end this way, I’d asked for a divorce. I told myself I’d done it out of selflessness. Indy deserved more than what I or Wallowpine could offer her. I believed that wholeheartedly, but I knew deep inside it was more than that .

I was afraid.

And I was a liar.

A liar because I’d promised Indy I wouldn’t hold back. Except I was holding myself back from the one thing I wanted most of all. Her. Hell, I wanted her bad. She was the only addiction I couldn’t quite kick. The more I denied myself, the stronger my need became.

I couldn’t have her—I’d accepted that years ago. But maybe . . . maybe I could have a little taste. Enough to take the edge off without any real damage being done.

Waiting until Jake had gone inside his camper to take a nap, I walked to where Indy sat beneath the tree. Pine needles crunched beneath my boots, and she looked up. She wore loose jeans and a blue button-down that was knotted together below her breasts, giving me a peek of her creamy skin. There was a bandana in her hair, her curls falling over her shoulders. She was the most beautiful thing I’d ever seen.

“You mind if I sit with you?”

She shook her head, and deciding I should pace myself, I sat by the tree across from hers. I stretched my legs out, my boots beside her bare feet. She looked at me curiously before returning to what looked to be the makings of a bracelet in her hands. Her headphones lay on the ground beside her.

I waited for her to slip them in and block me out, but she didn’t. Wanting to let her in, I reached into my pocket and pulled out my knife and wood block. I had a few designs in mind, but I hadn’t settled on what I was whittling yet.

Indy’s foot nudged mine, and I looked up to find her watching me, her eyes wide. A lot of questions must have been running through that pretty head of hers, but rather than demanding to know why I hadn’t told her about my carving, or if I’d known her dad would give her that star, she simply nodded.

And as I watched her braid grass with her fingers, saw the carefree smile on her lips as she tucked a wildflower into Genny’s collar, I wondered if Indy would’ve let me so easily into her space had she heard my thoughts. If she knew how close I was to giving in to temptation and reclaiming her as mine .