Until my Last Breath

53

Barcelona, Spain

The past few weeks have been a blur-a frustrating, exhausting blur. I threw myself into working with Daisy, into anything that could stop me from thinking too much. But it never fully worked.

Because thinking led to remembering.

And remembering led to him.

"Stay still, amour,"

I grab the hose, about to rinse off Daisy's legs when I hear the barn door creak open.

"Rita," Julia's voice cuts through the quiet.

"Hmm?" I don't look up, still focused on my work.

"There's someone waiting for you."

I let out a breath, wiping my damp hands on my jeans. "Can you tell them to wait? I'm almost done here."

"I already did," Julia says, her voice careful, measured. "But they're insisting."

That makes me pause.

No one insists on seeing me. Not here. The few people who do visit me at the barn know better than to rush me, and even if they didn't, Julia is usually enough of a wall to keep them at bay.

I finally look up, brows furrowing. "Who is it?"

Julia hesitates, shifting slightly where she stands. "Didn't say."

I glance down at myself-my old t-shirt is damp, riding pants speckled with bits of mud and water, boots already scuffed beyond repair.

I sigh, reaching for Daisy's halter to tie her up securely before stepping away. "Alright," I mutter, rubbing the back of my hand across my forehead. "Just give me a second"

-
I don't turn when I hear the barn door creak open again-

"did they leave Julia?" I ask but no answer is given.

But then the footsteps aren't Julia's.
They're heavier, slower. Measured.
"Julia?"

Then I turn.

I freeze, my fingers tightening around the hose, my heart stumbling inside my ribcage.

And it's him.

The world around me narrows.

For a moment, neither of us move. We just... stand there, staring at each other.
His eyes-those damn eyes-are as intense as ever, but there's something softer about them now, something uncertain, like he's just as unsure about being here as I am about seeing him.

"Hi."

It's barely a sound. More breath than voice.

I force a nod, my lips pressing into the tightest semblance of a smile. I don't trust my voice yet.

"Is that Daisy?"

His voice is steadier now, but I can still hear the hesitance underneath it.

I swallow, nodding again. "Yeah." My voice is quiet, but at least I manage to say something this time. I glance back at Daisy, running my hand over her damp side, desperate for something to ground me. "Just gave her a bath."

He nods slowly, shoving his hands into the pockets of his hoodie. "She's beautiful."

"She is," I say simply, my tone neutral.

I don't look at him when I say it.

Another silence.

He doesn't move, doesn't leave.