Now I’m imagining everyone talking about us, the golden couple splitting up. It makes me want to sink right into the pavers and disappear. I let out a heavy sigh and fight back a sob. Bo frowns. Angrily, he pushes away from the patio table.
“You should’ve known better,” is all he says, getting up. “I mean, Oakley, he’s a Walker.”
I’ve been listening to my dad talk about Jamie like he’s bad news for years. Dad hates Jamie’s father, Greg. Neither one will share what started the rivalry, only that it’s been going on for years. But this is the first time I’ve heard my brother talk about my boyfriend in that tone of voice.
My ex-boyfriend. I guess I have to call him that now.
“What’s that supposed to mean?” I demand, shoving away my plate.
“C’mon. You know what it means. His family’s always going to work the circuit, same as ours runs the ranch. If you ever thought Jamie was going to give up bull riding and traveling, you were being stupid.”
Stupid. Hearing him say that to me is like a stab to my already shattered heart.
Recoiling, I force myself not to scream at him. Keeping my voice steady and measured. I can’t risk raising it, or else I’ll burst into tears again. “We were talking about it. About what would be best for us. I just thought he’d decided not to do it. Turns out, I was wrong.”
Bo sighs and scrapes his hand through his hair again. Before letting his head hang, he keeps his voice low. “Oakley, J decided months ago that he wasn’t going to give it up. He’s known for months. Everyone has. I told you he couldn’t be trusted.”
“That’s not true,” I argue. “You never said?—”
“I did,” my brother interrupts quietly. “Back when you two first got together. I told you not to mess around with a bull rider.”
I want to deny what he’s saying, but I can’t. I do remember that conversation more fluently than I should. “That was three whole years ago. Jamie’s never done anything to break my trust in him!”
Bo says nothing. I hear my own words echoing in my head. I am exactly what he just called me.
Stupid.
Because maybe Jamie hadn’t broken my trust in him until now, but what happened last night was all he ever needed to do.
“Look.” Bo scowls and shakes his head. “You warned me off Savannah back when I thought she was really into me. You told me she was getting close to me so she could get into the family since hers was having money trouble. I trusted that you had my best interests at heart, Oakley. I guess I’m asking you to trust that I have the same for you.”
The pain in Bo’s voice is real. He might not have loved or even liked Savannah Ward the way I loved Jamie, but it still had to suck to realize Savannah was using him. He hadn’t really talked, per se, to anyone about being more than a friend since then.
We might fight sometimes, but I do know that my brother loves me. That he wants the best for me, as I want that for him.
“You can’t waste your life on a bull rider, Oakley,” he finally says. His voice is a little more sad than I expect to hear from him. “You need to do what’s best for you.”
“Don’t worry, Bo. I’m not going to spend another second on that piece of trash. I’m going to NYU,” I tell him, watching a small spark of a smile litter the corner of his lips.
I expect my voice to tremble with emotion, but it’s surprisingly steady. Maybe because even though I’ve said it a bunch of times already, this is the first time I’ve actually managed to convince myself I mean it.
I’m done with Jamie Walker.
Chapter Six
JAMIE
I haven’t been able to eat or sleep for days. Not since the fight between Oakley and I. No matter how many times I promise myself I’ll get over it and start to move on, so far, all I’ve been able to do is stare out the window of my bedroom. Or drive in endless circles for hours.
Every time I look over at the passenger side seat, all I can see is her smiling at me. Wind tossing her hair as the hem of her skirt slowly rises along her leg. My fingers tickling her knee as she playfully swats at me, before telling me to keep my eyes on the road.
Scraping both hands through my hair, not caring if it stands on end or that I look like I’ve been through a cyclone—as my mom would’ve said—I’m suddenly desperate to talk to her. To my mom, that is. To sit down and tell her how badly I fucked up and how desperate I am to make things right with Oakley.
I lift my phone and swipe to bring up her number. But a part of me knows that it’s useless. She hasn’t answered the dozens of calls I’ve already made. Though, just like every time before, I call anyway, praying that this time she’ll answer. But as usual, my call goes straight to voicemail, yet again. Anger boils through my veins like a hot flame as I throw my phone onto the table with a clatter, not caring if I shatter the screen. I can always get another phone.
She won’t respond to calls, texts, or even emails. I’ve tried reaching out to her through every social network I could find, but she’s unfriended, unfollowed, and blocked me everywhere. I even showed up at her house. Her mom turned me away.
I guess I should be lucky it was her mom and not her dad who answered the door. Mrs. Montgomery looked sympathetic, at least. She’d shaken her head when I asked if Oakley was home. Told me it would be best if I left without making a fuss. Of course I had, but now I regret that I didn’t stay, didn’t climb the tree next to her room. Thrown pebbles at her window. Done whatever it took to show her that I wasn’t going to settle for her ignoring me.
