Running Wild (Wild 3)

When I met Jonathan in my late twenties, I was still figuring out who I was, revealing the best parts of myself and hoping that when my flaws and insecurities exposed themselves in the months and years to come, he’d be in too deep to be scared away. I fell for Jonathan’s sense of humor, his work ethic, and the stability he gave my life. I convinced myself that he didn’t understand my love of animals because he didn’t grow up in a house like mine. I outright ignored the fact that our nights in bed were often lacking the passion I’d found with others.

And then I met Jonah, and everything I thought I knew—about myself, about men, about what I wanted in life—blew up.

Now, here I am, a year and a half to forty, and I don’t have the time or patience for any of it anymore. But nothing about this thing with Tyler has been conventional, from the first day we met to now, seven months later, as I pull up behind his green truck, wondering how long I should wait before I buy a pregnancy test.

It’s insane and reckless.

And I desperately want this to be real.

I hop out of the driver’s seat, smoothing my hands over my favorite jeans and adjusting my flowing green top. I spent far too much time after my shower deciding what to wear for a post-birth examination.

The barn doors are open, so I collect my black bag and head toward the raucous barking. It’s as if all the dogs have congregated in one post.

When I stroll through to the other side of the barn and the farthest set of open doors, I see that they have. The entire team, minus Nala, are untethered and trotting in circles within the expansive enclosure, barking and playfully nipping at each other. Even Sleet is there and tolerating Pope.

And in the middle of them is Tyler, his back to me, his cargo pants already covered in streaks of mud, his stance wide as he tosses out names and warnings, like a schoolyard supervisor watching children.

Now that I know the feel of his body far more intimately, the pull to him is much more potent.

The dogs notice me before Tyler does, and several charge forward. The rush would be daunting, had I not grown up around this, had I not already met each of them personally at the race. I laugh as they all greet me at once, nipping at my fingers, brushing past, several jumping, leaving muddy paw prints on my legs and waist, reminding me why I don’t dress nicely when I visit kennels.

“Airi,” Tyler calls out, his voice calm but his tone warning as the black swing dog tests the leather handle on my bag with his teeth.

“They’re excited today.”

“They know I’m taking them to the creek.”

There’s a strained note in Tyler’s voice that prickles my senses. I’ve heard that in his voice before—when he was preparing to leave the Cripple checkpoint. And when he turns, when I see the dark circles that line his eyes, as if he didn’t sleep last night after he went home, I know something is wrong.

“You got them?” he asks Reed as he walks my way.

Reed pauses in his attempt to harness Nymeria with a gray husky nipping at his hands, stealing a glance my way before he nods.

“What’s going on?” I ask.

Tyler’s hand slips over the small of my back to guide me toward the barn, but even that simple touch feels off compared to how his hands felt on me last night.

I hold my breath to calm the dread already building along my spine as he pulls the barn door shut to keep the dogs from following.

And when his Adam’s apple bobs with a hard swallow …

I know, before the words have even left his mouth.

“I thought I was ready. But I’m not.” Hazel eyes plead with me to understand.

I absorb those words like a hard punch to my chest.

“I’m so sorry, Marie.”

“I just … What does that even mean?” I can’t help the sharpness in my voice. We both know what we did last night. And when he left me, he seemed to do so reluctantly, turning back three times for another kiss. So, what happened between then and now?

I’m afraid I already know the answer.

When I’m with you, I forget about everything else.

But then Tyler went home, and he remembered.

“I didn’t think about them once all night, Marie. Not once while I was with you. It’s as if I was ready to replace him, just like that.” His voice grows hoarse, his lengthy eyelashes blinking against the sheen materializing.

Him. He must be talking about his son.

My heart pangs with sorrow as I reach for him. “Tyler, that’s not what that was—”

“I know. But it’s how I feel right now.” He swallows again. “I’m not ready to move on. God, Marie, you are incredible. I love everything about you … and when I’m with you, I fool myself into believing that I’m ready, but I’m not.” He shakes his head with resolution. “I don’t know how to love two women at the same time.”