The True Cowboy of Sunset Ridge (Gold Valley #14)(18)

Mallory had known herself. And it was like she’d seen clearly the long chain of events that had led her from being a teenager madly in love for the first time to a thirty-year-old woman, who couldn’t even explain what she felt when she looked at the man she’d chosen to share her life with.

Her feelings for Jared had changed. She couldn’t say the exact moment they had, only that they had.

She’d told herself obligation was love for a long time. And she was sure they’d both felt that to an extent. An obligation to each other.

But in the end... In the end the reasons they’d clung together at fifteen had long ago lost their sharp edges.

It was the time.

The energy. The fact that if she wasn’t in the middle of that struggle, she wasn’t entirely sure who she was. She had built her self-esteem, her self-worth all around that relationship. She oriented her position in the world by her positioning to him. It was insane. She knew it. But that didn’t mean it wasn’t where she was at. It was just... How it was.

It was crazy. But she hadn’t known how to proceed without him.

She didn’t know how to figure out if she was doing good or bad or indifferent if she wasn’t with him.

And it just had to stop. It was why she couldn’t afford to tangle herself up in knots over Colt Daniels. She wasn’t in the business of tangling herself up in knots over men. She wasn’t. And she wouldn’t. Anyway. He was another problem. And if she had to—if she absolutely had to—then she would explain to Iris that she might need a little bit of warning if she was going to encounter Colt. But she wouldn’t need to do that. She wouldn’t. She was going to be on topic. Because Colt had nothing to do with why she was here.

She was done orienting her life around men. He didn’t get to decide what she felt. Not about Gold Valley, not about the dinner that she’d had last night—which was quite good.

The fact that they had had some strange confrontation in the middle of that shouldn’t mean anything. No. It should mean less than nothing. It shouldn’t matter at all. That was it.

After her little pep talk, she started her car and began the route that would take her out toward the rental property. It was some ways out of town, a little bit more toward the coast.

Sunset Ridge.

That was the name of the place. At least, that was what she found via Google before she left. She knew better than to trust her cell phone to tell her where she was going out here. Sometimes she just inexplicably didn’t have service. As if it liked to remind her that there were moments when Gold Valley wasn’t entirely in this century.

Oh, you think you’re in a modern era? Nope, not.

It had been like: Oh, are you thinking of starting a new unencumbered life? No, you’re not. Here is the only man in town who’s seen you naked. At a family function. That your brother is at.

She frowned deeply and kept driving.

He had seen her naked. There was a man in town who had seen her naked.

Well, maybe there will be multiple men in town who will have seen you naked by this time next year. You don’t know. You’re in a new era of your life.

Yeah. A new era that had so far been a little bit more inglorious than she had hoped it might be. But what could you do?

She decided to think about other things. Consciously.

Because yet again, she wasn’t going to spend overly much time ruminating about a guy when she was driving toward her new house. And once she got into the new house, she was going to be buying things for it. Taking inventory. Setting up a life that was just for her.

She had never lived alone before.

She didn’t even know what she wanted.

And just like that, the world was full of opportunities. Opportunities that had nothing to do with Colt Daniels.

So she breathed in deeply for the first time since last night and rolled her window down. Then she turned some songs up, singing at the top of her lungs about betrayals and folklore. The paved road gave way to dirt, and there was a big, green sign that read Sunset Ridge Viewing Area.

The house was past that. That much she knew. And when she was about half a mile off that dirt road, the signal dropped out.

“I am smart,” she said, looking down at her paper map.

She could just imagine the way this would’ve gone if Jared had been with her.

What are we gonna do now there’s no cell service.

I printed out a map.

Who prints things out? You’re such an old lady.

Or, alternatively.

I forgot to print out a map.

You’re useless, Mallory.

She growled. The sound vibrated inside the little vehicle.

She was still so angry.

She wondered how long it would take that to get better. Heartbreak was one thing—you kind of expected heartbreak when it came to a relationship coming to an end. But it wasn’t strictly that. Not for her. Not anything quite so mundane as heartbreak.

How could you break what had been irrevocably destroyed so long ago?

This was a fire. A rage over all the years that she had wasted on somebody who just hadn’t appreciated her. Someone who had stopped pouring into their relationship a long time ago, and had let her keep giving, and giving and giving.

Who had subtly, with his actions, by letting her do that, reinforced all of the things she had feared. That she only mattered if she was able to do something for him. That she owed him.