Page 203 of Spicy Ever After
I instantly scowl. “The one who wants to sell you out?”
“The very same.” He sounds hollowed out.
Ugh.
A new wave of regret swamps me. Because as I was hiding from him, I was also missing out on his life. Leaving him to face his problems alone when I could’ve been there for him.
When I could have been his girlfriend doing comforting girlfriend things.
“Beck, I’m so sorry. For so many things. For letting you down.” I’m talking fast, trying to get everything out. Trying to make him understand. “I love you. So much. I’ve missed you so much. Please. Tell me how you are. Are you okay?”
I hear him blow out a choppy breath. Something between a laugh and a groan. “Um… God… Well… hearing those words from you definitely helps.”
He sounds so tired. Raw. Worn out. I want to reach through the phone and wrap him up in a hug.
“What’s going on? With you? With the farm?”
Another groan. “I… might sell.”
My breath is snatched away.
“What?”
He can’t be serious.
Beck can’t sell his farm. He loves his farm.
“But you’re a farmer—” I blurt. “You can’t be a farmer without a farm!”
His chuckle actually sounds sad. “Yeah, that’s true. But if I sell, Pop will have security, and it’ll leave me with some options.”
I snort. “Are any of them options you want?”
I can hear the sad smile in his voice. “You always cut right through the bullshit, don’t you, Hattie?”
I don’t miss a beat. “Except when it’s my own bullshit. Then I just avoid. Play dead. Run away… I’m trying to be better about that.”
“I sure as hell hope you’re done running. From me.”
“Yes. I promise. I swear on my Singer,” I vow. “I won’t ever run away from you again… But say more words about the farm. When I left, you said you’d never sell… What changed?”
He groans, and he sounds so tired, my heart literally hurts for him. “It’s complicated.”
My spine stiffens. “I’m a business major. I can handle it.”
He sniffs. “I didn’t mean it like that. I’ve been over everything I can think of about a dozen times. All the options I have, and none of them are great. And if I can’t buy Paul out, then the best option is to sell the whole thing to Steadman Farms. Then Pop gets to keep his home, he has plenty of money for the rest of his days, and I at least have a job working for them.”
He’s shared this outcome with me before, and he hated the idea back then. I hate it now.
I wrinkle my nose. “But then it’s not yours.”
“Then it’s not mine,” he says, and I can hear what it costs him.
“Fuckballs,” I mutter.
His chuckle is more like a wheeze. “God, I missed you.”
“I missed you too,” I gush in a hurry. “I still miss you.”
