Saddle up

BRANT : Twenty-two

I listened to the soft, steady sound of Jess's breathing as she lay beside me. The moonlight filtered through the sheer curtains, casting silver shadows along her delicate features. She was beautiful, but there was something fragile about her in that moment, something distant. Even in sleep, she seemed just beyond my reach.

A gentle touch ghosted over my jaw, the warmth of her fingers brushing against my skin. I let out a soft sigh, instinctively turning toward her, pulling her against me. She fit so perfectly in my arms, her warmth pressing into my chest, her breath feather-light against my collarbone. For a fleeting moment, everything felt right. But then... she kissed me. And something about it felt different. There was sadness in it, a quiet desperation that sent a prickle of unease up my spine.

Then she was gone.

A shift in the mattress. The loss of her warmth. The cold air wrapping around the space where she had just been.

My body stirred, my mind surfacing from sleep, but I was too heavy, too lost in the haze of dreams and exhaustion to reach for her. And then, just as I was slipping back under, the absence of her presence hit me like a jolt of lightning. My eyes snapped open.

The room was still except for the faintest rustling of fabric. My heart pounded as I turned my head, my stomach twisting when I saw her silhouette near the door. Her hand was on the handle.

"Jess?"

She froze, and so did I. The air in the room shifted, thick with something unspoken. I pushed myself upright, the sheets pooling around my waist as I reached for the lamp, flooding the space with light. When my eyes found hers, I saw it—tears.

My chest tightened.

"Jess, you're crying." My voice came out hoarse, still laced with sleep, but the concern outweighed my exhaustion.

I was on my feet before I could think, closing the space between us in long, quick strides. When I reached her, I wrapped my arms around her, pulling her into me. She didn't resist. She melted into my chest, her fingers gripping the fabric of my shirt as though holding on for dear life. I felt the tremors in her shoulders, the way her breath hitched against my skin.

"Why are you sneaking out in the middle of the night like this?" I murmured, my voice low, afraid to shatter the fragile moment between us.

She pulled back slightly, enough to look at me, but her eyes wouldn't meet mine. The sight of her tear-streaked cheeks made something deep inside me ache. I cupped her face, my thumbs gently wiping away the damp trails.

"Brant, I... I can't stay here anymore."

The words hit like a gut punch, knocking the air from my lungs.

"What? Why?" My voice cracked, betraying my emotions.

She looked down, her fingers twisting together. "I don't deserve you. I don't deserve any of this."

My hands tightened on her shoulders, my heart hammering in my chest. "Jess, that's not true."

She shook her head, more tears slipping free. "It is. How can I be here with you when Cole is lying in a hospital bed? How can I let myself be happy when he's suffering because of me?"

I stumbled back a step as realization dawned. Of course. Cole. The guilt she carried, the weight of something she had never been responsible for but insisted on shouldering.

"Jess," I whispered, my voice thick, "that wasn't your fault. You know that."

Her eyes finally lifted to mine, so full of pain and self-loathing that it physically hurt to look at her. "If I hadn't—if I had just—" She choked on the words, her voice breaking. "I can't do this, Brant. I need space. I need time."