The sweater was clearly a man’s, and the ring was clearly an engagement ring. Maybe he had a different idea of what they were? As if I would ever find someone to love me enough to do that. I didn’t even love myself or ever leave this farm.
“Did I miss something?” he asked.
I swallowed hard, and I blinked back some tears. I had almost forgotten why I came out here in the first place while I was in his presence. The real reason was that I could only punish myself so much. I could wear her ring, his sweater; but I couldn’t surround myself in their home, their room, not during a storm.
“No, you didn’t,” I said quietly.
More silence.
“It’s theirs,” I said, referring to my parents.
More silence.
“I don’t know much about that night. Father doesn’t like to talk about it, but it was storming, wasn’t it?”
I couldn’t sit here and have this conversation, not with him. I couldn’t bare my soul like this. This was the first time Riley ever acted like he had a soul, the capacity to feel anything for someone else other than hatred. I didn’t want to share this moment with him, I didn’t want it to be about my grief and sorrow. He didn’t get to use me like that.
He might be trying to change, but I could have used a friend seven years ago, and I had no one. I sat here by myself during storms, during every marriage and death anniversary, and that was because of Riley. He had alienated me from everyone.
I stood up and started walking away, deciding Riley was capable of closing the door behind him. I was almost out of his reach when he reached out and grabbed my hand.
“I’m sorry,” he said.
I glanced his way only for a second while I pulled my hand away.
That one stubborn tear dropped down my face, and I walked out. I didn’t even bother to grab the umbrella as I walked away.
At my trailer, I peeled out of the soaked clothes, throwing them on the floor in a fit grief. I pulled Mom’s ring off and placed it on the table, no longer able to look at it.
I climbed into my bed and pulled the pillow over my head, wishing sleep would drown me. I wished to feel anything other than the grief.
Nine
Emma
Pretend it didn’t happen. Last night didn’t happen.
I repeated that over and over to myself in my head as I walked into the stable. My head hurt and my eyes were red and blurry, but I was here. I turned the corner to walk into the stable, and Riley was already there. He had our first stalls already mucked.
“Thank you,” was the only acknowledgement I made.
His nod was the only response.
I quietly cleaned my stalls and cleaned Riley’s last one while he caught up.
“Music time?” he asked me.
“Sure,” I said with a sad smile.
I wasn’t ready to dance yet. I wasn’t ready to feel what I felt yesterday morning. I wouldn’t stop Riley from having fun and bonding with the horses, though, which was what he was there for. I just didn’t have to participate, not today.
Riley hooked his phone up to the speaker. If we played from my phone right now, we’d be listening to grief-filled ballads.
“Closer” by the Chainsmokers came on, and Riley called for Star. The horse trotted up to him but waited until Riley presented the sugar cubes before allowing Riley to touch him.
Riley danced to the beat with Star to the barn door. It was cute, but not enough to bring a smile to my face or lift my mood. It was just enough for me to note that Riley was handling the horses better, on his own and without any guidance.
Lola, that smart horse, already knew this new routine. She waited for me to hook the lead rope, and she started moving to the beat before I could. My heart wasn’t in it, but I went through the motions for her. The mare shot me a look that said,I know you aren’t having fun.
