Page 101 of Wildflowers & Whiskey

I sit back forward, looking down at my hand as I put pressure on the mark again.

“I went to therapy this morning.” His hand grabs mine, stopping me from doing the action. “Turns out there’s a possibility that I have Borderline Personality Disorder… and a part of that can lead to fixating on someone without really meaning to, kinda making them the centre of basically everything, including my own self-worth and mood. Dr. Palmer said it’s called having a favourite person… and I think I unintentionally made you mine.”

I don’t say anything, just lean into him as to say, it’s ok, I am here. His body relaxes next to me as though he was expecting a worst reaction from me. But he deserves to understand himself, and more importantly, love himself.

“I, erm… feel relieved in a way. Like everything made so much sense as she was saying these things, so there ain’t no denying it. I guess I go for the assessment now to find out, but there’s things that can help me in the meantime. Help how I am with people because I can’t go on like this.”

“Colt.” I hold his gaze, placing my other hand on top of his. “This is a good step. Honestly, understanding ourselves is so important. I had to do it. Fuck, if I am honest, I am still trying to understand myself. It was kinda the whole point of all my trips… But you are amazing, Colt, and don’t have to apologise for anything.”

He nods slowly; I can see his brain working nineteen to the dozen, letting everything settle in before he takes a long breath.

“You could stay, you know?” he says. “Not for me or because I want you to, which I do, but not because of what I just said. I’ve come to terms with us being friends, I promise. But because you’re happy here.”

I am happy here. And I do want to stay. But I can’t, because whatever is between Wade and me only can happen if there’s an end date to it. Take that away, and it becomes something neither of us can actually have. Something that will fracture things that are only starting to mend.

“I can’t stay,” I say softly.

“I can’t imagine being here without you, Maeve,” he says eventually. “I will go back to having no one again.”

I nudge his shoulder gently. “That's not true. There are so many people here who love you, Colt. You just haven't let yourself see it.”

“Like who?” He scoffs. Genuinely baffled, like the idea is so foreign it doesn't quite compute.

“Naomi still cares for you.” He looks away. “And that doesn't have to be romantic, but the care is there; anyone can see it. And things are getting better with your dad, right? That's not nothing, Colt.” I pause. “I know when I leave here, you are loved. I can feel it in my bones, like my Spidey senses are going off.”

He laughs suddenly, and then almost in the same breath his eyes fill, and he's crying again. Which sets me off all over again.

“Wow,” he manages. “We are a mess.”

“We are,” I agree. “But we've both been through a lot. Neither of us ever really got to see what healthy love looks like up close. So of course we're going to make mistakes, in romantic relationships, in friendships, in all of it.” I wipe my face with the back of my hand. “We just have to be a little kinder to ourselves.”

Though the words come out of my mouth, I needed to hear them.

“When did you get so wise?” He says, still crying, a watery smile on his face.

“Recently,” I say. “Reluctantly.”

He laughs again, sniffles, then shakes his head.

“When I go,” I say, quieter now, meaning every word, “I am still your friend. That doesn't stop the second I get on the plane. So, we stay in contact, yeah? That's non-negotiable.”

“I'd like that,” he says.

I mean every word. And maybe that is selfish of me, wanting to keep him when I know I’ve done things that can only hurt him if he finds out. But I can't lose both of them. I won't. Colt Carter is the first real friend I've had since Iris, and he has been through enough without me walking into his life and blowing it apart from the inside. So, whatever this thing with Wade is, whatever it has been, it has to end. Before it becomes something none of us can come back from.

Colt leans his shoulder back into mine, and we just sit until the night air becomes too cold to bear, saying nothing. And that is enough.

Chapter Thirty Eight

Wade

“So, your plane’s booked for Friday. I sent the details through.”

“Got them. Thanks, Mr Carter. Really looking forward to seeing the ranch.” Her voice comes through the line—Londoner, like Maeve’s, but lower.

“Great. I’ll be there to pick you up.” I pause, thumb dragging over the edge of the porch railing. “And remember… This stays between us.”

“Yes, I know,” she sighs, like she’s heard it one too many times over the weeks of planning to surprise Maeve with Iris coming over early.