Screw him.
He deserved this.
He chose that woman over me.
Got her pregnant, then didn’t have the decency to tell me the truth.
Had me all over campus bragging about my man when he was getting hitched.
I slowed down without realizing it, my gaze flicking out the window as the truck rolled past the bend. For a second, I didn’t know where I was. Then I saw the house.
Hudson’s house. A squat little bungalow that might’ve looked charming if it hadn’t been fighting so hard to stay standing. The porch sagged slightly on one side, like it was tired. One of the front steps had been replaced with a different kind of wood—newer, raw, and sanded smooth, like Hudson had meant to finish the job and just never gotten around to it.
The gutters were half-cleared, the siding halfway painted, patches of effort scattered like clues to a man trying—really trying—but always running out of time, energy, or maybe hope. A new window frame on the left caught the streetlight, a clear upgrade from the older ones, like he’d tackled what he could, when he could.
It wasn’t much to look at, but it was honest. And it pissed me off how much of him I saw in it.
My chest tightened.
Jesus.
I hadn’t done this in over a year. Not since that night I drove by and sawher—his wife—out in the driveway, bracing against the hood of a car, getting spit-roasted by two guys. It was dark, yeah, but I was damn sure neither of them was Hudson.
I’d been wrecked that night.
Seething.
Why her?
Why the hell had he chosenher? Someone who had no shame in sleeping around, even right in their very yard.
He deserved this.
He chose that woman over me.
I gritted my teeth and blinked hard, but the past was already rising like fog through a crack in the windshield. That day at the ranch, so many summers ago. The beginning of everything.
He was already halfway across the field when I caught up with him. Shoulders squared, boots kicking up dust. I’d left Junebug with my dad, heart hammering out of fear that he wouldn’t allow me to explain as I ran after him.
“Hey!” I called, but the wind swallowed it. “Hudson, wait!”
He didn’t. Just kept walking like he wanted nothing more than to put distance between us. I finally caught up, breathless and hot with shame.
He turned, eyes hard. “You gonna lie to me again or just waste more of my time?”
I winced. “I wasn’t lying?—”
“You didn’t tell me who you were. Let me flirt with you while you were probably laughing at the idiot shooting his shot at the owner’s son.”
“Wait, what? You were shooting your shot too?”
“You didn’t correct me when I called you Matt,” he muttered, voice low and sharp. “Stupid me should have figured you were Matty, given how Junebug took after you. So now you know, I’m a poor ranch hand who’s also none too bright. Nice to meetcha.”
“What does that got to do with anything?” I shoved my hands into my pockets to avoid reaching out for him. “You were the first one up this morning, which tells me everything about the hard worker you are.” Shuffling closer, I looked up at him from beneath my lashes. “Besides,you can still call me Matt. That way, only you do. Makes it special.”
He blinked, like he hadn’t expected that.
“Are you flirting with me?”
