Outside His Shadow

Chapter 22: The Clearing

The bay horse’s ears flicked forward long before I saw him.

I was still catching my breath, the adrenaline from the gallop humming in my veins, when a second rider emerged from the line of trees near the old stables. I pulled back on the reins, the leather biting into my palms, as I realized the rider wasn't a ranch hand or some staff member from the estate.

​It was Michael.

​He looked out of place against the raw, rugged backdrop of the ranch. He had finally changed his clothes, but he still wore that tight, guarded expression of a man who was used to negotiating his way out of a corner. He didn't say a word as he trotted his horse toward us. He just looked at me—really looked at me—in a way he hadn't in a long time.

​Elena didn't look surprised. She slowed her mare to a stop and adjusted her glove. "I think I left my water bottle back at the trail start," she said, her voice completely flat. She didn't even look at me for permission. She just turned her horse around and headed back toward the meadow, leaving the two of us alone in the silence of the clearing.

​I gripped the saddle horn, my knuckles white. "You planned this with her."

​"I asked for her help," Michael said. He dismounted, his boots hitting the dirt with a heavy thud. He didn't stay by his horse. He walked toward me, standing near the bay's shoulder so he had to look up at me. "I knew if I asked you myself, you’d tell me to go to hell."

​"I’m still considering it," I said, my voice steady despite the way my heart was hammering.

​Michael reached up, not to touch me, but to steady the horse's bridle. "I'm not here to talk about the merger, Olivia. And I’m not here to tell you Sloane is leaving. I already sent her to the airport. Her bags are gone. She’s done."

​I looked down at him. The power dynamic felt different out here. I was the one looking down, and he was the one standing in the dust. "You think sending her away fixes three years of lies? You think it erases the fact that you stood in our room last night and questioned me for her?"

​"No," he said, and for once, the CEO polish was gone. He looked exhausted. "I don't think it fixes anything. I think I’ve been a coward, Olivia. I think I got used to the idea that you were just... there. That no matter what I did, you were the one person who wouldn't leave. I took that loyalty and I used it to feed my own pathetic ego."

​He took a breath, his hand tightening on the leather. "You asked me last night if I would stay if the roles were reversed. I’ve been thinking about that all morning. The truth is, I don't know if I’m man enough to handle the kind of pain I’ve put you through. I don't know if I would have been as strong as you've been."

​He let go of the bridle and stepped back, spreading his hands as if to show he had no more weapons left. "I'm sorry. I know the words are cheap. I know they don't change Beatrice or the nights I lied to your face. But I'm here, and I'm asking you what I need to do to make you stay. Not as an ornament. Not as a plus-one. As my equal."

​I sat there for a long time. I wanted to believe him. Every part of me that still loved him wanted to jump down and let him hold me. But a part of me was still screaming for me to be careful.

​"You want to know what you can do?" I asked, my voice cold. "Stop trying to 'manage' me, Michael. Stop setting up secret meetings and horse-riding apologies. If you want to talk to me, you talk to me. No more games."

​"No more games," he repeated, a flicker of hope crossing his face.

​"I'm not saying I forgive you," I added, nudging the horse to turn away from him. "I'm saying I'm going to finish this ride. And when I get back to that villa, I want Sloane’s room empty and your ego in check. We’ll see where we go from there."

​I didn't wait for his response. I kicked the bay back into a gallop, leaving him standing alone in the clearing, a small, dark figure against the massive, uncaring landscape.