Still, every part of her screamed to call Jamie, to explain…and let him back in.
Despite her infatuation with him, the life she had always dreamed of never had him in it. And it never would. She just had to keep it together, to stay out of Niall’s way, and to keep moving forward.
No more men.
No more desire.
She closed that door to her heart, locked it, and threw away the key.
The door handle rattled, snapping Shannon’s attention to high alert. A loud series of thumps followed, and she pulled the duvet tighter around her shoulders.
“Shan, open the bloody door!” Harry’s voice boomed from the other side.
With a heavy sigh, she shuffled toward the door with the duvet swallowing her.
She unlocked the door and cracked it open, peering through the thin gap to see Harry, who took one look at her and winced.
“Jeez, Shan, you look like shit,” he blurted, tactless as ever, but the concern in his eyes was unmistakable.
Shannon couldn’t help the faint, guarded smile that flickered at the corner of her mouth. She had spent hours with Harry every day, more time than she ever spent with her own parents.
It wasn’t that she didn’t love them, but they never truly understood her passion like he did. He’d been her mentor, father figure, and biggest supporter since the first day she sat in the saddle.
Shannon hugged the duvet tighter around her shoulders.
“Flu,” she lied, her gaze dropping.
Harry scratched the silver stubble on his jaw, his eyes scanning her like he could see right through her act.
“Need a doctor? Or your mum?” he asked, a little out of his comfort zone.
“Just need a sick day to recover. I’ll get back to my routine tomorrow, Harry,” she mumbled, swallowing down the lump rising in her throat.
“Okay.” Harry seemed to accept her answer with little more than a skeptical raise of his brow. “Niall’s gone off again. I’ve put Trixie in the walker. Ifyou’re not up to riding tomorrow, I’ll get someone else to take her out for you. I don’t want you riding when you're sick, Shan.”
He tilted his head, waiting for her response, but there was something soft in his gaze now, something that made her want to break.
Her eyes misted, but she blinked the tears away before they could fall.
“How long is he away for?” she asked quietly, the vulnerability in her voice betraying her attempt to keep it together.
“A few weeks, maybe.” Harry shrugged, his expression hardening a little. “He said he was looking for another mare, but at this point, I’ve no fucking clue where he’s gone.”
Shannon nodded, giving nothing away. Giving that asshole airtime in her thoughts would only let him win.
Even though she’d spent hours replaying the vicious cycle, each loop tighter than the last, the anger twisting in her gut.
In the darkest corners of her mind, she wished she’d plunged a bread knife into his back.
“Look, Shan, I’m worried about you. Did the McGrath lad upset you?” Harry’s voice held a protective edge to it.
“No, Harry.” When her voice cracked, she swallowed hard and cleared her throat. “I’m sick.”
For all of Niall’s faults, he was still Harry’s son. They were blood, and blood ran deep. If it came to a choice between her and Niall, Shannon knew she’d be the one kicked out.
“Really, Harry, it’s nothing. I’m just under the weather. I’ll be back at it tomorrow.” She forced herself to glance upward, fighting to keep the tears at bay.
With a heavy sigh, Harry nodded. “Okay.”
