I LEAN FORWARD in the passenger seat of Cade’s truck, my eyes narrowing as I stare at the dirt path in front of me. “Where are we going?” I ask, not bothering to hide the exhaustion in my voice. I want to go to bed. I want a replay of the day, to forget that anything happened between him and I tonight. I want to keep pretending that I don’t love him anymore.
I can’t do any of that. Partly because of the stubborn man refusing to answer my question next to me.
“Cade,” I push, trying to figure out where we were just by looking at the looming trees above us. “You said we were going home.”
“I did.”
I look at him, my mind reeling with what he’s talking about. Just when I’m about to open my mouth and ask him if he’d had more beers than I’d thought, his headlights illuminate what appears to be a paved out driveway.
The truck lurches forward a bit when he puts it in park, his headlights now fully illuminating a framed out house up a hill a bit in front of us.
“What is this?” I ask, unable to stifle my curiosity. It seems like, during the years I grew up on the ranch, that I’d seen every mile the property has to offer. I’ve probably seen this exact spot at some point, but the framed out house wasn’t here the last time I’d been here.
Cade leans back in his seat, staring in front of him thoughtfully. “This is home.” He rubs at the stubble peppering his jaw. “At least this will be my home one day.”
“You’re building here?”
He continues to stare at the frame in front of him for a few more seconds until focusing on me. There’s reservation in his features. Like he’s unsure if he should’ve brought me here or not.
I’m not sure he should have. It seems personal. I don’t want to get personal with Cade. I want to get over him.
“Don’t act so shocked,” he comments, opening his truck door. If I want him to answer any of my questions, I’m left with no choice but to open mine and step out to follow him.
“Why can’t I be shocked?” I ask accusingly, staring at him from over the hood of the truck.
“Don’t,” Cade says, his voice slightly breaking at the end of the word. “Don’t tell me you forgot.”
I swallow. “Forgot what, Cade?”
He steps in front of the truck, the headlights illuminating his face perfectly. The yellow light shining on his face flawlessly captures the muscle angrily ticking on his jawline. Cade comes to a stop in front of me, his eyes searching my face for answers.
I wonder if he finds them or not. I hope not. Even after all the years we’ve known each other, I was hoping the time apart made it so he couldn’t see past my poker face.
“Being a liar doesn’t suit you, Goldie.” His words are angry, so much bitterness laced in his tone. Surprisingly, the goose bumps starting to appear on my skin aren’t from the cold. It’s from the subtle rage burning in his eyes.
“Stop telling me I’m lying when you don’t know what you’re talking about,” I fire back at him.
“You know exactly what this house is. What this spot is,” he says, raising his voice. He points behind him. “We spent summer nights under the stars going over your favorite floor plans, what you wanted in a house. Right here. At this spot. You can’t tell me you forgot that.”
I shrug. I remember every fucking second of it. It’s torture to recall a simpler time, a time where I thought love could overcome anything. It was a time that I thought Cade Jennings loved me the way I loved him.
I was so very, very wrong. And the fact that he remembers—and that he’s carrying out with the plan—makes me want to break down right here in front of him. How dare he still make good on his promises when he’s broken so many before.
Cade takes a step closer to me. Our chests brush against one another, our angry, deep inhales and exhales falling in sync. “You called me a coward when you left this town.” He laughs sarcastically. “It’s funny because the only fucking coward I see here is you. I’m trying to open up to you, to be honest with you—something I remember you begging for in the past—and here you are, lying to my fucking face. Do you really think that low of me, Goldie? Do you really think I wouldn’t know when you’re lying?”
My lip quivers as my head rocks back and forth. “I don’t…” my voice breaks, “I don’t remember.”
He shakes his head at me in disbelief. I see the disappointment written all over his face.
I once had called him a coward. But the way he dismissed my love years ago made me into who I am today. He may hate it, but he made me this way. He made me afraid to feel anything. I felt everything with him. When we ended, I had to attempt to feel nothing at all.
“Let me remind you then,” he declares, taking angry steps toward the wooden beams that’ll eventually become a home—his home. The one we’d planned out in vivid detail when we were just two kids who didn’t put much thought into what it really meant to be an adult.
I keep my feet planted by his truck. Maybe if I don’t follow him, he’ll stop throwing accusations my way. Maybe if I stay far enough away, he won’t be able to see right through every lie I’ve cowardly uttered tonight.
He stops at the right side of the house, opening his arms wide. “We’d talked about how we loved the entryway at my parents’ house. So this one is planned to be even bigger!” he yells, making sure I hear every word he says.
Cade takes a few steps closer to the center of the house. “You once said you loved the idea of a breakfast nook that overlooked the mountains, a space you could sit and write at. Well, right there is where the biggest nook my contractor has ever built is going in.”
“Stop,” I shout, my hands running through my hair. “I don’t want to hear any more.”
Pinching my eyes shut, I try to imagine myself anywhere else with him. I pretend that this isn’t happening. That Cade isn’t rocking my world all over again.
I’m supposed to be over him. I’d worked so hard to forget him. Yet here he is, breaking down every defense I’ve created in his name.
“I don’t give a fuck what you want, Goldie!” he yells. I’m glad he’s so far away. I don’t want to get a front row seat to the hurt that overtakes his face. “You’re going to listen. You’re going to remember,” he spits. “Since apparently you’ve so conveniently forgotten.”
Cade steps in an opening between two wood beams. I can’t see the bottom half of him. A very messed up part of me wants to follow him up the hill, to see the house he’s building for himself up close. I keep my feet firmly planted.
I don’t want to know what he has planned for the future. It doesn’t matter. I won’t be here to see it. I can’t bear it. My stomach rolls at the thought of who he could share this house with one day. One thing is for certain, it won’t be with me.
“Up those stairs they’ve framed out will be guest rooms, maybe even a couple rooms for future children, as well as an office that will have a built-in bookshelf lining three of the walls.”
My eyes flutter shut once again, remembering a night long ago when we’d planned the house he’s describing perfectly.
