Total pages in book: 79
Estimated words: 74698 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 373(@200wpm)___ 299(@250wpm)___ 249(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 74698 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 373(@200wpm)___ 299(@250wpm)___ 249(@300wpm)
And then there’s Holland. I pushed her away, convinced it was the right thing to do. But maybe, just maybe, I was wrong. The thought of reaching out to her, of trying to make things right, terrifies me. But the thought of losing her forever is even worse.
Something Gabe said sticks with me the most—about my choice of Wade over Holland. I’d chosen Wade over myself, both then and now. If I accept that, and more importantly, accept that Gabe is indicating that was a wrong move on my part, then I have to consider rectifying that mistake.
And as he said… that would pave the way to Holland.
Would she accept me back? I’ve screwed her over twice and she has no reason to trust me a third time.
But what if she did?
The possibility has my heart racing and my head swimming.
I lean back in my chair, staring at the ceiling. My mind drifts to the days before everything fell apart. Holland’s laugh, the way her eyes lit up when she talked about something she was passionate about. The way she made me feel alive, even in the darkest times. The press of her body against mine. The thought of never seeing her again, never holding her, it’s like a knife twisting in my gut.
The memory of Wade’s laugh, his mischievous grin, and the countless hours we spent together in the barn, working side by side, hits me like a wave. The pain is still raw, but there’s a new clarity in it. Wade wouldn’t want me to be miserable. He wouldn’t want me to sacrifice my happiness out of some misplaced sense of guilt.
Gabe’s right. I’ve been choosing Wade over myself, and it’s time to stop. I need to honor his memory, but I also need to live my life. And part of that life is Holland. I need to find a way to make things right with her, to show her that I’m willing to fight for us, no matter how scared I am.
I stand up, feeling a sense of determination settling over me. I can’t change the past, but I can choose how I move forward. And I choose to fight for the woman I love.
Pulling my phone from my pocket, I dial Ethan. He answers on the second ring. “Trey? Everything okay?”
I wince, because that’s not a normal greeting. It speaks to his level of worry. “I’m good. But I need a few days off.”
“No fucking way,” he growls. “It’s time you got back on the horse so to speak. You’re not going to hide away—”
“I’m not hiding,” I break in on him. “I’m going to Zurich.”
There’s silence and then a small chuckle. “Well, in that case… consider your time off request approved.”
“Thank you,” I say softly.
“Good luck, brother,” he replies and I hear the amusement in his voice. “You’re going to need it. I suggest lots of groveling.”
“Whatever it takes,” I assure him.
CHAPTER 25
Holland
There’s nothing like sitting outside my favorite café on a crisp Saturday morning. I can almost believe I fit in as the locals move about Old Town, weaving in and out of picture-taking tourists as they traverse the cobblestones.
I sip my cappuccino, savoring the tranquility and trying to ignore the fact that my heart is elsewhere.
I focus on the people as they go about their day, lost in their own lives. Some are walking their dogs, others are carrying groceries, and a few are simply enjoying the morning like I am. I vaguely note the familiar sounds of Zurich that always hover in the background. The distant hum of cars, the murmur of conversations, and the occasional ringing of a bicycle bell. It’s a beautiful day… the type I’m always grateful for, but I can’t shake free of the emptiness inside.
My thoughts keep drifting back to Kentucky, to the Blackburns, and most of all, to Trey. It’s been a week since I left, the pain still as raw as ever. I tell myself that time will make it better, but deep down, I know that a part of me will always be waiting for him.
With a sigh, I watch two women at a table near the edge of the outdoor patio where I’m sitting. One is about my age and the other might be her mother since they look so much alike. They’re sharing coffee and a plate of croissants as they talk animatedly with smiles on their faces. That bond between a mother and daughter is completely foreign to me, since I never had that with my own. Although I can imagine myself doing that with Fi. She’d be the woman I’d want to sit with at an outdoor table, pulling apart flaky croissants and talking about life and love.
I squeeze my eyes shut, blacking out the mother-and-daughter combo and when I open them, I stare at my nearly empty cup. Should I have another or take a walk near the river?