“A little birdy told me you’re working Stampede Days this week.”
His smile beams. “Sure am! I actually wanted to see if you were okay riding together in the morning, since we’re both going to the same place?”
Of course, he was.
“That’s fine,” I reply. “But are you staying there the entire day?”
“No.” He shakes his head. “The first few days, I’m only working the afternoon shift, but I can catch a ride home with Hannah. Then, later on this week, I’ll be working the evenings and will get to photograph the rodeo.”
“Okay, that’s fine. I’ll probably leave here around ten, so just be ready.”
“Cool. Thanks, Boone.” He’s so genuine and kind. It makes me feel like shit for being so annoyed that he’s staying here. “I’m gonna head inside and give you guys some time to yourself.”
He does just that, and suddenly, I’m out here with just my wife while Suzy plays in the yard with the dog, and the air surrounding us is suddenly tense, but not in a good way. Things with Jade and me have been…rocky for a while now. When we first started dating, she loved that I was a bull rider. Fully supported my dream to go pro. But as time went on, and as the reality of what that actually meant for her—and for our family—sank in, her enthusiasm has consistently dwindled. She hates the traveling, what it does to my body, the recognition that comes with it. Most understandable, she doesn’t like how dangerous it is. The latter didn’t really show itself until our daughter was born, which makes sense.
“How’s your season been?” she asks.
We’ve both moved to sit at the patio table so we can keep an eye on Suzy and Mabel. She’s throwing Mabel’s rope toy, which the dog more than happily runs to fetch and bring back to her. Suzy’s in a flowy, white sundress that goes down to her ankles, her feet bare and covered in dirt like a true country kid, and her sun-kissed blonde hair is tied up into a bun on the very top of her head. Smile bright, she giggles every single time Mabel goes for the rope.
I swear it looks like she grew up by years since I left just a few months ago. They always say how fast it goes, but you never really understand it until you’re living it.
“It’s been a great season,” I say in response to Jade’s question. And ithasbeen an incredible one. My stats are impressive in my very humble opinion, and I think it’s only going to get better as the season goes on. A part of me feels like it should hurt, Jade having to ask me that instead of already knowing, like she would’ve had things been different. But over time, as I’ve accepted what we’ve become, the sting has dissipated almost completely.
“Daddy, did you see how far I threw that?” Suzy yells from about twenty feet away, her hand shielding her eyes from the sun.
“I did, baby,” I reply, my voice taking on a softer tone, like it often does with her. “You threw it so far. Good job!”
She beams, eyes squinted from smiling so big. It’s contagious. There’s no way I can look at her cheerful face and not feel happiness warm me from the inside out. Being a parent is the weirdest, most challenging thing I’ve ever done, while also being the simplest. That is such a contradiction, and it’s one that wouldn’t make any sense unless you’re a parent. Loving her unconditionally is so easy. Easier than the breath I inhale and exhale out of my lungs. Being there for her and doing everything I can to ensure she’s safe and happy is easy, it’s something I don’t even have to think about. I’d move heaven and earth for her without even thinking twice.
But putting on a happy face when I’m feeling anything but, and wondering if I’m doing the right thing for her…that’sthe difficult part.
“I talked to the lawyer,” Jade murmurs low, so only I can hear.
A pang in my chest has me swallowing roughly. “What’d she say?”
“The state of Wyoming has a twenty-day waiting period once we file for divorce before it can be finalized. So, it would make the most sense to wait until you’re home for the season.”
This is a conversation I knew was coming, but it’s one I’ve been dreading. Jade and I decided to separate at the end of the last rodeo season. It had been a long time coming, and it felt like it should’ve been a harder decision, but it wasn’t. We both knew it was time. We couldn’t continue going on like this, so we gave ourselves a year. Told each other we’d wait to make any permanent moves until the end of next rodeo season—this oneI’m currently in. Mostly for the sake of Suzy. We didn’t want to uproot her entire life until we were both sure this was over. Until we were sure there was no saving this.
But, we’re sure.
Not even halfway through the season, and I think we’re both more sure about this than anything. Even with the dark cloud of the divorce process hovering over my head, I still feel lighter than I have in years, and even though it’s hard talking about it, I know Jade feels the same. This was the life she signed up for, but when she signed up, she had no idea what any of it meant. Being married to a bull rider isn’t a conventional life by any means, and I can recognize and respect how hard it’s been for her. It’s not only me I have to worry about. It’s not only me affected by the outcome each night when I climb onto an angry, thousand-pound beast.
I think Jade loved theideaof being with a bull rider more than she loves the reality of it. And I can see the appeal. She was young—we both were—and she was looking to do anything that went against the perfect vision of a future her parents had for her. Mr. and Mrs. Wilde aren’t the easiest people to get along with. They come from old money, and they walk around with their noses up in the air. They expect a lot from their children—always have—and marrying a rowdy bull rider certainly wasn’t in their plans for their daughter.
They’ve always treated Jade and Grady like things to control. Objects to mold how they see fit. You treat kids like that, especially growing adolescents, and they’re going to rebel. I think when we got together, she saw the life I wanted, and she knew it was a way to piss her folks off. To stick it to them. I’m not saying that’s the only reason she married me, because I know she loves me but, as often happens with young love, once the excitement and frenzy of lust died down some, and after we became parents, we both realized we weren’t as compatible aswe had originally thought. We aren’t who the other necessarily wants to do all the mundane, everyday stuff with, and I think that’s important when it comes to someone you plan to spend your life with.
For the first time since sitting down, I look over at Jade. My wife and the mother of my child. “And this is what you want?”
I’m not asking it because I’m having second thoughts. I’m asking because I need to be sure we’re on the same page. Although, I’m not sure why, because even if she were to say no, I don’t think I could stay. It used to be, I wanted to stay and make it work for Suzy. Wanted to be able to give her a home that wasn’t“broken,”which, by the way, is such a dated and toxic term. But being able to give her two happy homes is better than one miserable home where she has to put up with her parents fighting—or worse, deal with the tension that comes from obvious friction.
“I think it’s our only option, don’t you think?” she asks, her face unreadable beneath her sunglasses.
Suzy is the spitting image of Jade in so many ways. Her bouncy blonde curls. Her cute, narrow button nose. Her eyes, while they’re the same color as mine, the shape is all Jade. So much of her is in our daughter, and more than once, I’ve sat with myself and been riddled with guilt that I don’twantto make this work anymore. She gave me the most important person in my life. But I’ve come to realize that those two aren’t mutually exclusive. I can love Jade for what she’s given me, and I can be thankful and cherish the good times we’ve experienced while not wanting to spend my life with her. It doesn’t make the love we shared any less real, and it doesn’t make my love for Suzy any less meaningful.
I can love Jade without being in love with her.
“Yeah, I do.”
