Georgia's Gamble [A Historical Fiction Novel; The Pratt Chronicles Book 1]

Chapter 30

Chapter 30

Georgia Pratt

As soon as the door clicked shut behind me, I let out a shaky breath and sank onto the edge of my bed. My fingers trembled as I pulled the blanket tighter around my shoulders, still shivering from the cold. But it wasn't just the bite of the winter air that had me trembling. The storm in my head—the questions and the impossible choices—rattled through me, refusing to settle.

The letter to Houston College had already been sent. Weeks ago. That was my first step, my way out of the life my parents had planned for me. A step toward independence, toward freedom. And yet here I was, tangled in something I wasn't sure how to handle. Something named Benjamin.

I leaned my head back, staring at the ceiling. When I dropped that letter in the mailbox, I felt hopeful for the first time in years. It was like seeing the sky after being stuck in a dark room, the promise of a future I could shape on my own terms. But now everything felt uncertain, muddied by the new questions Ben had stirred in my heart.

His words still echoed in my mind, pulling me in two directions at once. He wanted me with him. Not just a fleeting romance or a temporary escape. He wanted something real, something lasting. And God help me, I wanted it too. But could I have it? Could we really make it work?

I knew my father wouldn't approve. Ben wasn't the man my father had in mind for me, no matter how much I cared for him. No, my father wanted Holden—a man with wealth and status, a man who could provide the life my family expected for me. A future with security, with all the appearances of happiness, even if the reality didn't quite match.

But what about what *I* wanted? The life I was trying to build for myself, the one that didn't revolve around anyone else's expectations? That letter to Houston College represented my own dreams, my escape from all the pressure. Ben wasn't part of that plan. And yet, I couldn't imagine a future without him either.

My heart thudded in my chest, the memory of his hands on me still fresh—his lips claiming mine like he couldn't bear the distance between us. No one had ever looked at me the way Ben did, like I was something more than what my family or this town saw. The intensity of his desire, the raw need in his eyes... it scared me. But it also ignited something in me, something that burned so hot I could barely breathe when I thought about it.

I wanted to believe him. To believe that love would be enough. That somehow, against all odds, we could bridge the gap between our worlds. But was I naive for thinking that? Was it foolish to hope that my father, with all his expectations and traditions, might accept someone like Ben?

A knock on the door jolted me from my thoughts.

"Georgia?"

Quinn's voice. My heart sank, knowing he wouldn't leave without an answer.

"I'm fine," I called out, trying to sound steady, but my voice came out shaky, betraying the storm inside me.

The door creaked open, and there he was, with that familiar mop of blonde hair falling over his eyes. He looked at me, and I knew instantly that he could sense something was wrong. Quinn had always been able to read me better than anyone else, and right now, his eyes were full of concern.

"You sure about that?" he asked, stepping further into the room.

"I told you, I'm just a little unwell." I tightened the blanket around me, hoping he'd take the hint and drop it. But Quinn being Quinn, he didn't.

"You've been acting weird for weeks," he pressed, his eyes narrowing. "What's really going on?"

"I'm tired, Quinn," I said, forcing a smile that I knew didn't reach my eyes. "That's all."

He crossed his arms, leaning against the doorframe with a skeptical look. "You're a terrible liar, you know that?"

I bit back the frustration rising in my chest. The last thing I needed right now was Quinn poking around, trying to figure out what was really going on. "I'm *fine*," I snapped, the word coming out harsher than I intended.

Quinn raised an eyebrow, but his expression softened. "Georgia, if something's up, you can tell me."

I swallowed, the lump in my throat tightening. I could feel the weight of his concern, and part of me wanted to confide in him. But how could I explain something I barely understood myself? How could I tell him about Ben, about the impossible choices spinning in my mind?

"I'm fine," I repeated, this time more firmly, hoping he'd let it go.

He sighed, running a hand through his hair. "Alright. But if you're feeling sick, maybe you should let Mom know."

I snapped. "I *said* I'm fine, Quinn." My voice cut through the room, sharper than I meant, and I instantly regretted it.

Quinn blinked, his brows furrowing in surprise. "Alright," he said quietly. "But you can't fool me, Georgie. Something's off."

He gave me one last look before retreating, closing the door softly behind him. I sat there in the silence, the guilt of snapping at him gnawing at me, but I couldn't deal with his questions right now. My mind was too full, too tangled.

I stood up and moved to the window, pressing my forehead against the cold glass. The snow outside was untouched, the world outside still and quiet in the night. Somewhere out there, Ben was thinking of me. Of that, I was certain. And the thought both warmed and terrified me.

I wanted to believe in us. To believe that love could be enough to overcome the expectations, the obstacles, the disapproval of my family. But as I stared out into the snow-covered night, that nagging voice in the back of my head reminded me how fragile it all was.

What if I was wrong? What if love wasn't enough? There I said it. I loved the jockey. I love the jockey.