**Completed** Colby Byers and Wyatt Matheson shared an enviable love-at least, until that fateful day. Torn apart by tragedy, the stubborn ex-lovers struggle to come to terms with their desire for one another, while reconciling their feelings with t...
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3 years earlier
"I have a surprise for you," Colby said slyly. "I made some plans." She strolled toward him slowly with a bright, knowing smile upon her face.
"Plans, huh?" he said, wiping his brow and ditching his shovel. He rested his arms along the top of the stall door. It was hot, and he was sweaty and grimy from his long day of mucking, but Colby wrapped her arms around him without a second thought.
"Plans," she said. She leaned toward him, nipping at his lower lip. He grinned, throwing his arms around her, pulling her closer.
"What are these mysterious plans?" he asked, his forehead resting against hers. He loved that she wasn't a prissy girl—she was never afraid to get dirty.
"You'll have to follow me to find out," she said, squirming out of his arms. She took off, running for the doorway. "C'mon!"
"I'm not done working!" he shouted after her, but it was pointless. She'd already left.
"Listen here, boy."
Wyatt jumped at the sound of the voice. His father, Marty, peeked over the stall wall. Wyatt had forgotten his father was next door, trimming Mindy's hooves.
"Yeah?"
"When a pretty girl tells you to move," Marty said. "You get your ass movin'. I'll finish your chores."
"Thanks, Dad," Wyatt said, grinning.
"Get!" Marty barked, smiling. He was happy to give his hard-working son a break.
...
"Thanks for the picnic, B," Wyatt said, reclining on a blanket by the river that ran through the Byers' family estate. He smiled at the effort he knew she'd put into this gesture. She was spoiled, there was no question, but somehow the pretentious nature that some in her family had inherited had skipped Colby.
He watched her. She was clad in one of his ancient hoodies, happily pouring him a mug of hot chocolate, complete with still powdery lumps. He thought, perhaps, that love wasn't a strong enough word for what he felt.
"Do you like it?" she asked quietly with a nervous smile.
"I love it," he replied, taking her hand in his. He kissed each finger, pausing when he reached the one adorned with silver. She wore the promise he'd made to her weeks before in the form of a pearl ring.
The stable hand and the heiress.
He would never have believed it possible if he hadn't lived the fairy tale himself.
Wyatt
Tap tap tap.
I roll onto my elbow, pulling my headphones from my ears, swearing I heard something. My mom is still on serving duty for Mr. Byers for some fancy-pants charity soiree at Colby's place, so I'm home alone. On the night of the homecoming dance.
