Page 146 of Colt

I mean, what if I trusted the feeling in my gut that I’m on the right path here? What if I let Mom and Dad think what they wanted and I just…go do what I want?

I send up a little prayer of gratitude that I reached out earlier to the psychologist recommended by Colt’s therapist. I’ve got a lot of work to do, but I feel like I’m headed in the right direction.

Sighing, I paste on a smile. “Thanks, Mom. That means a lot. I’m nervous but excited too. This has been a fun one to work on. I’ll miss it here.”

Glancing around my beautiful apartment, my chest squeezes. I still need to build out the website once the Wallaces make their selections—logo, header, tagline, colors—and I get their approval to move forward. But that will take a week. Two, tops.

Then I really will be done. And I don’t know how I feel about that.

“Are you okay?” Mom asks. “You sound a little…off.”

I swallow. “I’m fine. I just wasn’t expecting to like it all so much—the ranch and the cowboys and everything.”

“Is there a cowboy in particular who’s caught your eye?”

“One, yes. But it’s not serious. Can’t be, you know?”

Liar.

“Right, because you’re leaving. But there’s nothing wrong with a little fun. Good for you.”

My eyes film over. “Yeah. It has been fun.”

“Always good to get your ya-yas out every once in a while. Especially before you start the job hunt again. I’m so excited to have you back home, at least for a little while.”

My stomach twists. I don’t know where I’m headed next, but I do hope it’s not back home to Fort Worth. My lease is up on my apartment in Austin at the end of December. Do I take a chance and renew it? But that doesn’t feel right either.

Before, I would’ve told Mom all this. About Colt, the rebrand, the ranch itself. I thought I told her stuff like that because we were close and I wanted her to be part of my life.

Now I’m starting to think I told her everything because we were a little too close. I wanted to share good news or exciting developments in the hopes it’d lift her mood. Make her day suck a little less.

I need to practice that acceptance Colt talked about and accept that I can’t make her happy.

I need to accept that she’s not going to be the role model I’ve always wanted. Like Colt said, my dad’s not going to change, and neither is Mom.

But she’ll always love me. She’ll always be willing to lend an ear or a hand. And she’ll always be there for me, even if she does show up with opinions that don’t exactly mesh with my own.

And that makes me feel…free.

I no longer have the obligation to put what I want aside so I can be her life preserver. She doesn’t agree with my choices? Yeah, that’ll sting, but it’s only my future on the line now. Not ours.

I’m only responsible for myself. Not everything I do needs to make my mom happy, because truth is I never had the power to make her happy in the first place.

It feels like a lesson I should’ve learned way back in kindergarten. Better late than never, though, right?

“I’m not sure I want to come home.” I can’t believe I just said that out loud.

“What? Did you get a job somewhere? Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I’m having second thoughts.” I pause, choosing my words carefully. “About abandoning my branding business.”

Silence.

Then: “But you can’t do that as a real job.”

“Mom, you were the one who suggested I take this job for the ranch. You said it’d lead to a ‘real job.’ And it did. My branding business is real, and I think I can make real money continuing to build it. I didn’t think I’d like taking on a client in this industry, but turns out I love it. It’s got me thinking⁠—”

“How about you come home and think about it here?”