Miss Me; When I'm Gone (editing)

CHAPTER 47 (Travis)

Travis

"Okay, I'm a douchebag. I have to fess up, because this shit is eating me alive," Ethan said, as he stepped into the barn with a saddle thrown over his shoulder.

I continued rubbing down my Mangalarga Marchador, Beau (pronounced bo), and ignored his comment. I had to get the stallion's stall cleaned out next, and I didn't have time to deal with Ethan and his drama.

"I'm fucking Celeste. I've been fucking her for like two months. She's really good at sucking my dick. Sorry, but I'm a man, and she came on to me, and I let her blow me. Then I turned her over the sawhorse and fucked her. It was a weak moment. I was horny, and she came strutting in wearing these cutoff jean shorts that showed part of her ass and a little top that barely covered her tits. She's hot, man. I asked if you were still fucking her, and you didn't answer. I figured she didn't matter."

That was why Celeste had left me the hell alone. I should be giving Ethan money for this.

"Glad she's servicing you well."

I patted Beau, then turned to lead him over to the stall I'd already cleaned.

"So, you don't care that I'm taping that ass?" He asked.

"You did me a favour. She wasn't taking no for an answer."

Ethan let out a sigh of relief. "Thank God. I was worried you've been in this sour mood because I took your go-to-fuck."

I didn't even respond to that. There was no point.

"The day she came to get her panties, I was close to fucking her then. She was dressed in a little short skirt, looking like a damn porn star. But I called and texted you, and you didn't answer. I let her go then. But the next day, when she showed up in the barn, I ducked her. You weren't coming out of your house that week. It was that week you were in such a bad mood."

Right on time. He started things up with her when I really needed everyone out of my face. Not telling what I would have said to her if she'd started that shit up then. I didn't want her, but I didn't see any use in saying anything hurtful. She didn't deserve that.

"Where were you that weekend, anyway? That time I texted you? You came back angry at the world. And you've been fucked-up ever since. Was it Miami Place? That girl you were going to see?"

I wasn't talking about this with him.

Wait. What text?

The world around me stopped, and my empty chest suddenly felt heavier then lead. Please, God, no. Don't let this be what I think it is.

"Ethan," I said, almost afraid to ask.

Did I want the answer?

Could I live with this?

"Yeah?"

"What text?" I asked, before I could stop myself.

"The one I sent you about Cel getting her panties under your bed and asking if you were still fucking her."

No.... No... No...

"Ethan, I never got that text. When did you send it?"

"I told you-"

"No. I need to know the date and time you sent that motherfucking text!" I shouted.

The horses whinnied, but my head was pounding, and the heaviness was taking over my lungs.

"Shit, dude. I'll check. Calm down," he grumbled, pulling out his phone scrolling through the text messages.

"Umm.... Uh, June 27 at nine a.m. Called twice before that, too. No answer or response."

I dropped the supplies from my hands and walked out the door. I kept walking. I just fucking walked. I walked until I was as far away from Ethan as I could get, until my house vanished from sight.

Then, I tilted my head back and let it all out in an angry roar.

She'd seen that text. That was what has sent her to the corner, looking at me as if she had shattered. A fucking text had taken her from me.