Breathe Again

Chapter 37

Dottie stood in mute shock. Her mouth opened and closed several times before she whispered loudly, "How can you say that?"

Sterling turned on her and hissed, "Because that is the moment where everything started. That is what led up to you almost dying last night. If you still avoided me like the plague, you never would have been on that damn mountain."

She wanted to slap him; he was so thickheaded. She grumbled under her breath and paced away. Why was he willing to give up on what they could have, now that they had the opportunity to grasp it? She'd believed Martin to be the force keeping them apart these past fourteen years, but what if it was a mutual effort? Did she mean so little to him?

With her stomach tied in knots, she demanded, "So, you don't love me?"

Sterling clamped his mouth shut and tied his satchel to the saddle, then led Fancy from the stall. He didn't know where he would go, all he knew was he had to get away from her before saying something he'd later regret.

He scoffed and shook his head. He already regretted everything he'd said leading up to this moment. Martin had been right about him all along.

Dottie followed behind and pulled him to a stop before he left the shelter of the barn. "Tell me you don't love me, Hawk."

He clenched his teeth so hard a muscle twitched in his jaw.

She gripped his shirt in her fists, wanting to shake the words free. There was a physical pain in her chest, far worse than any she'd experience before, where he was concerned.

Her lips curled back in a snarl as she pushed against him, "I've heard you say it before, so I know you can do it. Say it. Tell me that you don't love me."

He remained silent, grabbed her by the arms, and forced her away from him. Fancy snorted and eyed them both in concern. They stood only seven feet from the main door to the barn, the air around them held the pungent smell of wet earth and clean rain, mixing with the steady drizzle outside that accentuated the tormented, melancholy mood of the moment.

"How could I have been so stupid?" Dottie scoffed and wiped at the tears spilling down her cheeks. "I hoped, after hearing what Martin made you promise that he was the only reason you never told me the truth."

"It was," Sterling growled, unable to stop himself.

She wanted to scream. The effort to keep from screaming caused her voice to sound strained when she asked, "Then why won't you say it now?"

Sterling pursed his lips and pushed his ruined hat more firmly on his head. "I'm leaving." Turning away from her, he clicked his tongue to Fancy and started to walk again toward the door.

Dottie ran up ahead of him and barred the exit, holding her arms out as she demanded, "Say it."

She stared at him with wild eyes, willing him to speak; but he averted his gaze. She choked on a sob and moaned, "Make me believe it, Hawk—like you did before."

Sterling stared at his boots and the hay-strewn ground. Closing his eyes, he prayed for strength and took a calming breath before releasing the reins and moving Dottie further out of his way once again. Walking back to where Fancy waited, he took up the reins and resumed walking toward the door.

"WHY WON'T YOU SAY IT?" Dottie shouted. She marched up behind him and grabbed his arm, pulling him to a stop, and wept, "Here, I'll make it easy for you. I don't love you, Dottie—that's all you have to say."

Against his will, he met her gaze. His heart constricted at witnessing the naked anguish in those hazel depths. He couldn't do it. Seeing her in such distress, knowing he was the cause of it, made him question everything he believed he needed to do.