Unstable (42 page)

So I forced myself to play it close to my chest, waiting for the day he’d come back and she’d turn to him once again.

But he’s not coming back, I know that now for sure. Henley needs,
wants
, me by her side, no matter the circumstances.

Having reconfirmed it, with those words of pure conviction sliding past her sweet, pink lips,
while
dealing with the death of Bourbon, she just erased any shred of doubt still lurking in the very back of my mind.

Every errand I’d ran, that I was nervous may have been premature, I now know was done right on time. My girl had no doubt or hesitation in her voice or beautiful eyes when she told me…I’m her listening ear, her rock she knows she can lean on…her man. Erasing any of my doubt.

I’m
her chosen partner in life.

And Lord knows, I choose her right back.

Do you know how hard it is to sit down and pretend to talk to someone who’s not there? Fake a handshake with nothing but air?

I do, because the night I was invited in to meet, shake hands with, and have a seat to get to know Gatlin…there was no one else in the room besides me and my Henny.

Not gonna lie, at first I was more than a bit freaked out, severely worried about my girl, but I went along with it that night, and every other time she said his name, because I love her. I love her so much that whatever headspace she’s living in, I’m living there too,
with her.

I meant it when I swore to never be apart from her again.

I did some research and made a phone call to a guidance center, posing as a concerned parent, and got some answers I could live with. Gatlin was just a manifestation Henley had conjured up as a coping mechanism. In simple terms, an imaginary friend. To help her deal with her pain, guilt, someone to talk to. Born of the acute memories all attacking her at once with her return home.

And yes, I’d been jealous of her male apparition—because real or not—
I
wanted to be the one she talked to. But I held on, waiting for her to choose me and send him away, which she’s now done.

I’d never tell her, because I know my girl, and she’d go back to thinking she’s crazy, constantly looking over her shoulder just waiting for someone to send her away again.

Over my dead fucking body.

I don’t think she mentioned him to anyone else, but if it ever does come up? I’ll look that person in the eye and vouch for his existence like I’m quoting the Psalms.
No one
is messing with my girl ever again.

I love her sane, crazy, mad, happy…every single nuance that makes up my Henny.

Yet part of me wishes there
was
a way to tell her, because then she’d know exactly how resilient and strong she really is.
She
fixed that fence, took care of the horses, loaded those calves and went to a sale—all by herself. She faced the memorial, church and graveside services for her mom alone. She thought he was there helping her, but no, my baby did all that on her own.

Henley Gene Calvert will never know just how much of a fighter she is…and that part’s a shame. But I know how amazing she is, always have, and will find other ways to tell her as much every day.

And with this, our last night in her house, my plans and her declaration couldn’t have met up at a better time. The Kings are ready to move in and my house is ready for us. Honestly, I replaced more than I probably needed to, but any woman I’d ever had there had been so brief and meaningless, which I’d feel bad about had they not known the score upfront, I wasn’t even sure of the “safe” and “not safe” areas and furniture—so I changed it all.

Absolutely worth every penny though. Now I know, everything Henny and I do, anywhere in our home will be a first.

I’ve waited a lifetime, literally, to connect my present, future and forever to Henley’s. The two of us, one existence. And tonight, I ask her if she truly wants the same thing as much as I always have.

HENLEY

AS PROMISED, KEATON “SHOWED”
me twice, once slow and gently, the other crazed and beastly, how much he liked what I said to him, then fed me—which sent me straight into a nap.

Apparently a long one, ‘cause when I sit up and stretch, I can see it’s dark outside.

I get up and search the house for him, coming up empty. No sexy cowboy, no note…but his truck is out front. Weird.

Even more strange, from somewhere in the house, “A Thousand Years” by Christina Perri starts playing.

What the hell?

I follow the sound of the song that I personally love, but have no clue why I’m hearing it. It leads me to my phone and seeing Keaton’s name on the screen, I answer amidst my sheer bafflement.

“How do you know this song?” I ask in place of “hello.”

His deep laugh kisses my ear. “I didn’t until today. Took some advice, read the lyrics, and knew no other song would tell you as perfectly. Do you like it?”

“I love it,” my reply a dreamy wisp. “But,
whose
advice?”

My inner territorialism rears its possessive head because I know damn good and well, only a
female
would recommend that song. And I wanna know who Lil’ Miss Helpful was.

“Love jealous Henny,” he growls. “I’ll tell ya when we get to that part.”

“What part? Where are you? Why are you calling me?”

“Would you be so kind as to come meet me up on the roof?” he asks coyly.

“So now you’re
encouraging
that? I’m so lost right now.”

“As long as I’m up here with you, it’s fine. I told you that. Now get your pretty ass moving, don’t keep me waiting.” And with that, he ends the call.

I pat down the bedhead I know I’m sporting, quickly brush my teeth (‘cause you know, nap breath) and head up the stairs.

“Hey gorgeous,” he greets me at the window with a wolfish smile, giving me his hand. “Fancy meetin’ you here.”

I climb through it and let him lead me over to the middle, where he guides us to sit down by the tea light candles he has lit.

“Um, Mr. Safety,” I snicker, “I’m pretty sure open flames on a roof are strongly discouraged.”

“Yeah, probably,” he chuckles. “Which is why there’s only three, in glass, and a fire extinguisher right behind me. Just don’t knock ‘em over, and we’ll be fine.”

I nod, waiting in overwhelming, body tingles producing, anticipation to see what he’s building up to.

“Henley Gene Calvert,” he rises to his knees and takes my hand in his, “I have loved you since the day you tried to beam a rock off of me, before I even knew that the immediate fascination I felt for you
was
love. And I have loved you every single day of my life since. Even when you were gone, not a day went by that I didn’t think of you, try to find you and pray you’d come back and I’d get another chance. There is nothing that makes me feel more alive than being in your presence, despite your moods.” He winks. “You were put on this Earth to be adored by me, I’m convinced of it. The feelings I have for you are all-consuming. No one has ever loved another as deeply as I love you, it’s just not possible.”

He uses his thumb to wipe away my happy tears and leans in to feather his lips across mine.

“So I’m asking…” He digs in his pocket, opens the small black box he’s pulled out and holds up the most beautiful ring I’ve ever seen. White gold, large square cut diamond and braided bands. It’s simplistically elegant and speaks to how well he knows me. If handed a catalogue, it’s the one I would’ve chosen. “Henley Gene, my Henny, my baby, will you please be my wife?”

I gaze up from the ring into his hopeful blue eyes, glazed with a sheen of nervous purpose, and whisper in captivated awe, “Yes, God yes, Keaton. I’d love to marry you.”

He lets out a whoop so loud, I know my family heard it in Heaven, then wraps me up in his arms, peppering kissing all over my face, lips, hair and neck. He pulls back, and with a steady hand, slides the ring on my trembling finger with a choppy laugh.

“What’s funny?” I ask.

He shakes his head and kisses my hand. “I just can’t believe it. After all these years, some spent optimistic, some spent hopeless and some spent without you at all, you’re finally going to be my wife. It’s like my life can actually begin now.”

“I love you.” I grab his face and take control, kissing him with every ounce of love, happiness and rejuvenation I feel. When I’m forced to take a breath, I continue to hold his handsome face in my hands. “I love the ring too. You picked perfectly. Was that your errand today?”

“One of them, yeah. Told ya you’d like my surprise,” he smirks smugly. “Let’s blow out these fire hazards and go celebrate inside.”

“Not so fast,” I quip. “The song, my ringtone? While it’s perfect and I love it, I do believe we’re to the part where you tell me who gave you such sound advice.” I quirk a brow.

“The lady who sold me the ring. The married, pregnant lady who sold me the ring.” He adds with an arrogant, knowing wink. “But because your jealousy gets my dick as hard as the diamond on your finger, let’s pretend it was a busty, flirtatious young chick and once we get inside, you should definitely exert your frustration and ravenously remind me who I belong to.” He wiggles his eyebrows.

“Three times in one day?” I laugh.

“Fine,” he mockingly sighs, blowing out the candles and standing. “You’re the boss, I’ll go four, but just because I love you and you’re practically begging.”

“You know we have an early, very busy day tomorrow?”

“You had a nap. I have faith in you.”

Keaton FuckingInsatiable Cash—my dream come true.

6 Months Later

“
WELL HELLO, LADIES.” KEATON
saunters into the barn where Brooke and I are double-checking our mounts on Scotch and Barley before our ride.

“Uncle Keaton!” Brooke squeals, running over to throw her arms around him. “Do you want to go riding with us?”

“
Us
?” He stares at me, eyes narrowed to bossy, angry slits…one of which may actually be twitching a bit. “Baby, please tell me she doesn’t mean my wife as part of her ‘us?’”

Yes, I’m his wife, and he never gets tired of saying it. So much so, that sometimes I kid him that I suspect he’s forgotten my actual name.

We got married at the church in front of a small crowd, Brooke our flower girl, Keaton’s father my escort down the aisle and Donna standing at my side (crying the entire time).

Keaton had boxed up
their
bedrooms for me in the move, so he knew exactly where to look, and had pictures of my mom, Hadley, and even one of Bourbon at the ceremony.

He ensured they were all there…and while his gesture warmed my heart, he needn’t have bothered. They were there anyway, in spirit. I swear I could feel their love surrounding me as they watched from afar.

And Keaton Cash in a tux? Well let’s just say…no, I better not think about it with Brooke anywhere in close proximity, because I can’t be held responsible for my actions when I revisit the vision of my husband that day.

I shake away my wayward thoughts and return to the battle upon me.

“Do you see anyone else here?” I put my hand on my hip, giving him
the look
.