I get out to the corral where the boys are sitting on the fence. Their feet dangle and they both lean forward. Zach stands in front of them with a horse, and I hear their laughter. It stops me in my tracks. Both boys are laughing. I’ve missed that sound so much. A tear falls as I clutch my chest. It’s been so long since any of us have been happy. So many months of feeling nothing.

Zach’s eyes raise and lock with mine.

As angry as I was a few minutes ago, right now I can’t find that feeling. Cayden and Logan have been sad or entirely vacant with me, and here they are, once again, seemingly whole.

“He’s not always a dipshit.” Wyatt nudges me as he sees what I’m looking at.

“Debatable.”

Zach and the boys start laughing again. He gives the boys the reins, and I watch them walk around with huge smiles.

“When are you going to wake up, Pres?”

I look over at him with frustration. I’m so tired of him pushing. “Don’t.”

He raises his hands in surrender. “I’m not saying a word.” He stops talking for only a second before opening his mouth again. “But I will say this . . .”

“You can’t help yourself.”

“I think those boys need to see their mama smile and laugh. They need to see that it’s okay to be happy.”

Wyatt’s arm wraps around my waist. He holds me against him and Zach’s eyes find mine again. “They love you, Presley. They see you and watch how you’re barely holding on. It’s hard for kids to see their mama like that. So, go show them you’re happy they’re allowed to be.”

He’s probably right. I don’t want them to think it’s not okay to live. I want happiness for them. Hell, I want it for me too. I want to stop seeing that night. It’s killing me. I have dark circles under my eyes, my clothes are loose, and I’m so damn tired.

I walk slowly over toward the corral and hold myself together. “Boys,” I say with a smile.

“Mom!” Logan rushes over. “Look! This is mine and that’s Cayden’s new horse!”

“Whoa!” I’m taken aback. “I didn’t know you got your own horses.”

“Isn’t it awesome?”

“It sure is! Did you name them?”

“No! Cay!” Logan yells over to his brother. “We have to name them!”

The boys run off, trotting them around the ring. I smile. Each time the horse does something new, they both come to life. It reminds me of the Christmas that Todd and I got them each the bikes they wanted. We had to bundle them in five layers so they could ride in the freezing cold.

“I can’t believe Cooper and my daddy could afford this,” I say to myself.

I look at Zach, and he smiles. “Well, your dad bought two new horses, but I thought that maybe the boys would like their own too.”

“You did this?” I ask. “You gave them two horses?”

“They can’t live on a farm without a horse.”

“Zach,” I whisper, “it’s too much.”

My heart swells with appreciation. Horses are not cheap. The Hennington Horse Farm has always been extremely lucrative. They breed, train, board, and sell some of the top horses in the state. The gesture is beyond anything I deserve. The last time we saw each other, I slapped him. Yet, here he is, giving each of my kids a horse. It reminds me of the boy I fell in love with.

“I remember being a kid. I can’t imagine this is easy for them. A horse can be a great therapy tool. Think about how many nights we’d take off just to free our minds. I figured with their dad, a new home, and not knowing anyone . . .”

I feel like such a bitch. Here he is going out of his way for my kids, and I wanted to come out here and punch him in the face. I look over at the boys as they pet their new horses. “Thank you, Zach. I truly don’t know what to say. I’m really blown away.”

“Just say, ‘Thank you, Zachary.’” He pauses, smiling. “‘You’re the kindest, most handsome man I’ve ever known.’”

I laugh. “Still living in a delusional world.”

We both stand there, watching the boys. Wyatt hops in the ring with them and shows them a few tips.

“Are you sure about this? It’s a lot of money. If it’s a problem, we can work something out.”

“Absolutely not.”

“You really didn’t have to do this.”

“I really did. I wanted to do this for them. And for you.”

He doesn’t even know them, but he always had a big heart and a soft spot for kids.

“I wish I could pay you.”

Zach’s hand grips my upper arm. “I wouldn’t let you.”

I look at where his skin touches mine, and we both step back. “Look, what happened two weeks ago—”

“Let’s not,” I reply quickly. The last thing I want to do is talk about that damn car ride home. It’s only going to bring up unwanted emotions.

He sighs and looks away. “The more we keep pretending, the worse this keeps getting. I shouldn’t have kissed you.”

“No. You shouldn’t’ve.”

“I know you’re not ready.”

“Not ready?” I laugh. “Not ready for what? For the fact that you have a girlfriend? Not ready because my husband died less than six months ago? Or maybe it’s because we haven’t seen each other in, ohhh.” I pause, counting off in my head. “seventeen years.”

“I’m not saying I want to be together, Presley. I mean, you’re not ready to forgive me for something that you know was the right choice. Or at least the choice anyone would’ve made.”

I sigh and close my eyes. ’Round and ’round we go.

“Right for you, Zach. It was the right choice for you . It’s a common theme in my life.” It hits me right then. I love men who choose themselves above me.

“What does that mean?”

“It means that it wasn’t the best choice for us. It wasn’t what I wanted. It was what you wanted. If you hadn’t dragged me out there and left, it could’ve been different. I’m not angry because you took it, I’m angry because you decided our life without even talking to me.”

He shakes his head and pushes the air from his lungs. “You couldn’t be any more wrong about that. You think that choice wasn’t for the both of us? I could’ve given you everything. The money I was going to make would’ve given us the life we dreamt of.”

He’s being delusional. Zach wouldn’t have started in the majors. He thought the money would have been there, but he forgets that Triple-A ball players barely make a living wage. Plus, I wasn’t ready to live that life. We had talked about him entering the draft after his senior year, not the beginning of his junior year. We would’ve had almost three years together by the time everything had worked out. Then, to find out he did it all without a word—hurt.

All I wanted was a say in how our life would go.

I don’t speak as my chest heaves. I am so tired of this goddamn merry-go-round. I want off. This is in the past, yet we keep bringing it to the present. “Can we stop? Please? There’s a lot I would change about how we handled things in our past. I don’t want to be angry anymore.”