Page 8 of Came the Closest
“Colton…” But there was nothing to say.
No excuse for my choices.
“I’m not cut out for commitment,” he repeated. This time when he stepped close, placing his cold, calloused fingers under my chin, I didn’t back away. “But you and I? You and I, Cheyenne, we came the closest.”
Wind tinged with the sharp wail of a siren in the distance pushes my hair against my cheek, bringing me back to the present. The one where Beau realized I had nothing more to say, because at some point, he’d tossed his trash and moved back across the yard to continue planting flowers for Kaia.
His wife.
She’ll come home from her mother-son date this afternoon and kiss her husband and make supper for her family and tell Beau all about her day while he stroked her shoulder absently.
Bitter jealousy I have no right feeling rises in my throat. I blink hard, even though there aren’t any tears. I don’t want to be jealous of my brother and his idyllic family, but it feels nearly impossible now that I’ve moved home. Now that I’m alone again, no longer part of a supposed-to-be-forever couple, I don’t know who I am anymore.
Two years ago, I’d almost had it all. The husband, the home, the family.
Now it’s all gone.
And I guess maybe that really was what hurt the most, the coming the closest.
Chapter Four
Soda Cups
Colton
Lay low.
Those are the only two words from Travis’s long, mildly dramatic spiel that truly penetrated my brain. He said a whole lot of other things too—is your brain the size of a freaking pea?, sponsors aren’t gonna like this, disqualification from the Finals—but not even his insults stuck like those two syllables. Because while the phrase tends to emit images of bumming around and catching up on your favorite author’s newest book, reality is vastly different.
My reality? A career in limbo, and if I say or do one wrong thing in the public eye, it’ll tip. Not favorably, either.
Those two words are why I’m sitting in this red Adirondack chair on my dad’s back deck. I should be in Fort Worth getting ready for the Stockyards Showcase—running drills, shooting promo content for sponsors, talking it up for the cameras.
But no.
All because I went and lost my temper like I’ve never done before.
I scrub my hands over my scruffy jaw and tip my head back against the chair. The lake reflects blue under a cloudless cerulean sky, a jagged shoreline kisses the hem of Dad’s backyard, and a gentle breeze keeps the warm day comfortable.
I don’t have anything to do or anywhere to be, so the most logical option is to sit here and sulk. Is it healthy? Probably not. But if Gran can’t pull me out of my mood with food, nothing else will work. Besides, I genuinely don’t know if Travis would approve of me walking downtown if I wanted to.
I told him I’d post a public apology statement, and he instructed me to log out of all social media profiles. The only reason my phone wasn’t crushed under the hooves of a fifteen-hundred pound bull Friday is because I promised I wouldn’t go online. Even if part of me wants to just so I can know what’s being said about me. Travis read a few headlines aloud the morning after everything. Rodeo’s Golden Boy Not So Golden Anymore? was my favorite.
The best part? The picture of a golden retriever with a red slash over it right next to my most recent headshot. Travis didn’t think my suggestion of making it my widespread profile picture was funny.
Behind me, the sliding door clicks along its track. I don’t turn around. I’ll find out soon enough who it is. And to be completely honest, if it’s Gran and those blueberry muffins again, I might have to take one. Ticked as I am, a guy can only resist sugar for so long.
“Uncle Coat!” Jolene. “Are you so excited like I am?”
I look over in time to see my niece flop onto the chair beside mine. Her blonde hair bounces in twin pigtails, tiny pink bows tied around each one, and her lightweight fleece jacket flaps open over a Moana t-shirt. Before her, I never thought I’d be able to recite nearly every word of multiple Disney movies. Now I’m like a walking soundtrack—I can and I will break into song at the drop of a hat.
“Kinda hard to be excited if I don’t know what to be excited for, don’tcha think?”
Jolene props her elbows on the arm of her chair, chin on her palms. “Guess, then!”
“Guess, you say?” I shift to face her fully. If there’s one person I’ll always give my undivided attention to, it’s Jolene. “All right, let me see here. You…lost a tooth and the tooth fairy is coming tonight?”
“Nope,” Jolene says, shaking her head.