I haven’t felt like that—haven’t longed for a peaceful end—since Aiden made sure I let him into my life. I’m smiling again without realizing it, thinking back to how persistent he was, and how perfect he is.

There has to be something wrong with me. Why am I so hesitant to move forward with things? Is it because we are rocketing through life at a harrowing rate, time slipping through our clenched fingers like water? The tighter you hold on, the faster it escapes you.

I don’t want to get my heart broken. I know that…but I also know there is more to it, and I cannot figure it out.

“What is wrong with me, baby?” I ask Shakespeare. I lean against the stall wall, watching the bones in his jaw move as he finishes his grain. “Aiden, the guy who’s been in here with me the last few days, is the most amazing man I’ve ever met, let alone dated, and I’m scared of getting too involved.” I slide down on a pile of hay and let my eyes close. If I stay still too long, I’ll fall asleep.

“Am I being stupid?” Shakespeare takes a drink then slobbers water on me before moving to his hay. “I take that as a yes,” I say with a chuckle. Horses can’t answer, not directly. But they are good listeners and often know what you are feeling before you feel it yourself.

I let my mind drift, going to the place I’ve been too scared to let it go. Aiden’s life is full of exposure, moving around, being on the go. Acting is stressful, and I hadn’t realized until I met him how little he gets to dictate his own life. He needs someone who can go with him, who can keep him company and take care of him, who can support him and be his number one fan while staying true to our relationship.

“I can’t give him that,” I say as the truth barrels into me at ninety miles an hour. I open my eyes and look at my horse. “I can’t be that person he needs.” This whole time I’m thinking my heart is broken, but I realize then it’s more than that. My soul is cracked. Cold, dark wind blows through me, chilling me, dimming the light that used to dance inside me.

I lost a part of myself the night I lost Mom, and I didn’t know if I could get it back. I’ve been going through the motions, but I don’t have any drive. I’m doing what I have to, not what I want to. I’ve closed myself off and shut out someone amazing, someone who makes me feel, makes me forget, who doesn’t look at me with pity or walk away shaking their head when I say I have flashbacks, that I’m still seeing the fire, smelling the smoke, still living in my own nightmare.

“What am I doing?” I whisper. I want to feel again, and I can only imagine Mom looking down, muttering under her breath, Haley, what the hell are you doing? I take a breath in, inhaling the calming aroma of the barn, and slowly let it out. “Day by day. That’s what he told me. I can do it.”

I stand up too quickly and have to lean on the stall for support as my vision blacks out. I need to shake myself from this funk. I need to start living life again, not wasting each day being angry with the cards that were dealt.

Life goes on in the blink of an eye.

Mom’s voice is loud in my head. Chills make their way through me and I nod. “You’re right,” I tell her. “It does, and I know I need to enjoy it. Enjoy things while they last, because that’s all we have. Life goes by, and life can be taken, in the blink of an eye.”

I push my shoulders back and nod to myself. I can do this. I can find joy in the things I used to, and I can take solace in Aiden.

I can love him.

And I can let him love me.

Country music drifts through the barn. I turn the electric clippers on and place one hand on Shakespeare’s muzzle. He stands there like a champ, not moving or shying away from the buzzing clippers as I shave the long whiskers off his face. I clean up his ears next, and he stands still again, of course.

I turn the clippers off and spray the blade with a cooling agent, then bend down and clip the long hairs off his legs and around his hooves. It’s been a while since I gave him this kind of attention, and he’s eating it up.

I feel good too. I’m unsure if I should be ashamed or not. No one could say I haven’t taken care of my horses, but they aren’t in tip-top shape, brushed, clipped, with neatly braided tails like they used to be. Well, they will be now.

I take a very clean Shakespeare into the round pen and exercise him, then let him and Aurelia out. I laugh and shake my head as Shakespeare sniffs and paws the ground, looking for a good place to plop down and roll. It never fails: the cleaner they are, the muddier the spot they will find to roll in.

“You’re fat,” I tell Benny, eyeing him as I walk back into the barn. I hadn’t cut back anyone’s grain, because that would have been like admitting defeat, admitting that I really wasn’t going to ride. Because I might have, one day. I might have woken up with the itch to saddle up and ride.

But I hadn’t, and they were still eating as if they were being exercised regularly. I peer over the stall. “You too, Sundance. Both of you are going on diets.”

I take Benny into the crossties and brush dried mud out of his fur. I lose track of time as I groom him, singing along to the music. Twenty—or thirty or forty, I don’t really know—minutes later, he’s in the round pen, doing his best to ignore me and not exercise.

“You are so lazy,” I tell him with a smile. “I’m gonna get your fat butt back into shape. I’m actually feeling up for a trail ride, just to warn you. Mom would be pissed if she saw how fat I let you get. Come on, pick up a trot.” I wave my hand and make a clicking sound. If horses can roll their eyes, then that’s exactly what Benny did, but he at least starts moving forward at the slowest trot possible.

I laugh and shake my head. “No wonder you were a bad racehorse.”

I let him out back; he hangs around the gate, not wanting to go out alone. Shakespeare and Aurelia are in the side pasture again. Without a mommy to protect her, I don’t trust the other guys around her yet. And it’s closer and within eyesight from inside the house. I can easily check on her.

I take Phoenix for a walk up and down the driveway, keeping her on the soft grass next to the gravel. We stop in the front yard, and she immediately lowers her head and chows down on the long grass. I really need to mow. And pull the weeds out of Mom’s garden…and toss the hanging baskets on the front porch that I had forgotten about and now display dead flowers.

My stomach grumbles and I remember that I haven’t eaten yet. I yawn and give Phoenix a few more minutes before going into the barn. It’s after nine already. I should go inside and check on Aiden. Possibly having a fever had slipped my mind.

“That’s exactly why he needs someone better than me,” I sigh to Phoenix. “Someone who has their life in order. And knowing that he has his own demons…I don’t want to burden him with mine.”

I let her out in the dry lot, make sure the new gelding is okay, then let Sundance out with Benny, telling him he’s not off the hook from work yet. I quickly take all the water buckets out of the stalls, water sloshing down my legs as I carry the heavy buckets outside to dump and line up along the barn to be washed later.

I wipe my hands on my pants and stand up, stretching my arms over my head and squinting in the bright sun. I yawn again as I go back into the house, calling Chrissy off the back covered porch. She lazily gets up and trots over. We go inside through the garage.

The house is silent. I take my boots off and sneak upstairs. Aiden is still sleeping. I watch him for a few minutes, feeling a huge sense of relief. One day at a time. I’m focusing on today. Not tomorrow, not two weeks from now, but today.

I got downstairs and open the fridge, looking for something to make. I decide on French toast and bacon, with a fruit salad on the side. Before I can even think about cooking, I need my coffee. I make a pot then get to work, tossing Chrissy scraps of bacon as I cook.