Something Wilder(84)

Lily stepped forward then, wrapping her arms around his shoulders, mindful of his casted foot. “But you did.”

When Joe and the female ranger—Officer Pochuswa—came back several hours later to tell them they’d retrieved Terry’s body, Lily didn’t know why she started to cry. The finality of it all hit her hard. The relief, too, maybe. But also the realization that, even after everything that happened, nothing would really change. Even after Terry’s death, their failed attempt to find the treasure, the wild way that she and Leo crashed together, and the fact that she’d been held at gunpoint three times in a matter of days, she’d have to keep bringing people out to the trail to put food on her table and take care of her horses.

Nothing they’d done in the past week had made any difference. In fact, it had only made things worse. Because from that day forward—whether it was next week or ten years into the future—she’d always imagine Leo out there: his big hands loosely holding the reins while he coaxed Ace into a smooth lope; eyeing Lily knowingly over his tin coffee mug, flirting even in the cold shock of the morning; climbing over her in the sweet confines of a cabin, kissing his way down her body.

Lily assumed her meltdown helped convince the police that she was blindsided by the news, because Officer Pochuswa put Lily in her truck and personally drove her to the hospital to be with Leo.

She was directed to a sleepy ER bay with five beds, the other four of them empty. Bright light streamed through tall windows, and the entire space had the feel of a hospital from the past, plunked down in the middle of some quiet countryside. Leo was still asleep when she got there. It meant that Lily could take his hand and just… look at him.

As expected, he had stitches in his temple, some more in his cheek. He would have an impressive shiner under his right eye, and his bottom lip was cut and swollen. They’d taken his shirt off and his ribs were bruised but not wrapped; thankfully nothing seemed to be broken. There were wires taped to his chest and attached to monitors. She had to assume it was out of an abundance of caution, because his heart rate beeped steadily, his blood pressure an even 110/70. Despite the beating he’d taken, he looked healthy and sun-kissed. She loved this face. She loved him. She couldn’t imagine finding another face anywhere that she would love this much.

She looked at his hands instead. They were strong: long fingers, muscular, with prominent tendons that made her want to bend down and bite. Turning his hand palm up, she ran her fingertips over the paths of lines there. Except for random cuts and scrapes, his skin was mostly unmarred and smooth. His hands were only mildly calloused, nails meticulous. There was no sun damage, no scars. They were city hands. These hands belonged to a man who lived in a high-rise and jogged in an urban park and would get a promotion when he returned home.

She and Leo were from two different worlds.

She bent, resting her lips on his knuckles, and began the mental process of saying goodbye. Her stubbornness had served her well, even if it was a double-edged sword. It meant she was unbending, but it also meant she was a survivor.

So she told him, while he was sleeping, that she was sorry. She knew she was uncompromising, but she couldn’t move to New York. And she didn’t want him to move to Hester, either, didn’t want him to pretend he could be happy in a town that had one general store–café and one bar. He might think he remembered what it was like to be in the middle of nowhere, but the only time in his life he’d come close, he was falling in love on a beautiful ranch with a well-stocked kitchen and the luxurious semblance of “rustic.” Leo Grady didn’t have any idea what it would feel like to have to drive one hundred miles to a Target.

But even when she laid out the justification for pulling away, she realized—objectively—it wasn’t healthy to be so unwilling to try. She heard Leo’s arguments in her head, saying they could figure it out, that there was a way forward. She knew Nicole would yell at her that if she was so miserable without him, why not come up with a solution. But Lily wouldn’t, and when Leo opened his eyes and sleepily blinked at her, and then smiled in relief, she knew exactly why: because when he’d left her before, what was hardest was the way it let a tiny voice take up permanent residence in her mind, telling her she wasn’t worth it. She hadn’t been enough for her mom to stay, wasn’t enough for her dad to stick around for long. And Leo had never come back for her. Lily had survived all of that, but she didn’t think she could survive trying to make it work with Leo again only for him to realize she wasn’t worth living in the middle of nowhere.

“Uh-oh,” Leo said, drowsily reaching out to tuck a strand of hair behind her ear. “She looks serious.”

She tried to laugh, but it came out thick like a sob. She hadn’t realized her eyes had filled until the wet heat of tears streaked down her face. What was it with her and crying lately? She was not a fan.

Leo frowned and reached forward to swipe at her cheek with a thumb. “Lily, there’s… a watery substance coming from your eyeballs.”

She smacked his hands away, laughing through tears. “Shut up.”

He gazed at her. His eyes were so soft and adoring, they pulled a sharply defensive “What?” out of her.

But Leo laughed. “Not yet, sweetheart.”

“Not yet what?”

“You can’t break up with me yet.”

Pulling back, she reminded him, “We aren’t even together.”