Cowboy’s Healing Heart

10. Confessions

TEN

CONFESSIONS

KRYSTAL

I step into Art Alley, my hand in Shane's, and the explosion of color takes my breath away. Vibrant murals cover every inch of wall space, a riot of images and words that make my head spin.

This unique spot in downtown Rapid City is said to be a hidden gem, showcasing the creativity and spirit of the local arts community.

Every inch of the alley's walls is covered with vibrant murals, an eclectic display of styles and themes creating a breathtaking visual narrative. From whimsical characters to thought-provoking phrases, every corner is filled with artistic expression, inviting viewers to stop, reflect, and engage with the art around them.

"This is incredible," I breathe, turning in a slow circle to take it all in.

Shane grins, his blue eyes bright with excitement. "I thought you'd like it. Come on, let's explore."

We wander down the alley, pausing to admire each piece of art. A massive dragon breathes fire across one wall while delicate flowers bloom on another. I can't stop smiling, drinking in the creativity around us.

"Look at this one," Shane says, pointing to a mural of a woman with her arms spread wide, her face tilted up to the sky. "Reminds me of you."

I raise an eyebrow. "Oh yeah? How so?"

He shrugs a hint of shyness in his smile. "Strong. Beautiful. Free."

My heart skips a beat, and I look away, not sure how to respond. Instead, I tug him towards another mural. "What about this one? Kinda looks like you, don't you think?"

It's a painting of a soldier, his face half in shadow. Shane's smile fades a little as he studies it. "Yeah, I guess it does."

I squeeze his hand, feeling the warmth and strength in his grip. "Do you regret going into the military?"

His gaze drops for a moment, a flicker of something crossing his features before he finally speaks.

"No, I don’t regret it," he says slowly, choosing his words carefully. "It taught me discipline, brotherhood... and how to face fear head-on. But it also made me witness things I’d rather forget."

I nod, absorbing his words. I listen intently as he talks, his voice low and intense. Each syllable carries weight, revealing layers of emotion that he rarely shares.

I hear the pain in his words, and my heart aches for him.

Shane doesn't go into details about his experiences, the battles fought, or the sacrifices made. Still, I catch the shadows lurking in his eyes—the remnants of a man who has faced darkness and survived yet remains haunted.

I guess in that way, we're alike. We're survivors.

Haunted . But survivors.

His expression shifts as he continues, his jaw tightening, a subtle tell that he’s wrestling with something. I watch him, noting the way his shoulders seem to carry an invisible burden, and how his fingers clench slightly around mine as if seeking solace in the connection.

When he finishes, I wrap my arms around him, holding him close, wanting to shield him from whatever has crept in to steal his peace. As I feel the tension in his body slowly give way, I savor the warmth radiating from him.

If I'm honest, I've felt cursed since Jordan. That every turn I made to better my life was destroyed because I fell in love with the wrong man.

But then God did this —He gave me Shane.

He's patiently let me hold on to my secrets. He's navigated through my thorns to find my softer side. He's held me securely in his strong arms and capable hands, reminding me I'm a woman.

As I pull back, I cup his face gently in my hands, searching his eyes.

I'm his woman in every way.

"You’re so much more than your past," I say softly, my voice steady despite the swell of emotions threatening to overpower me. When I lean in, I press my lips to his in a tender kiss, feeling the softness of his lips against mine.

The kiss deepens as I draw him closer, pouring everything I feel into it—my understanding, my admiration, and my love for the man he is right here, right now.

His arms envelop me tightly, anchoring me to him as though he fears this moment might slip away. I sense a shift within him, something dark and heavy lifting slightly in the warmth of our shared intimacy.

This kiss brings an unexpected lightness, dissolving the shadows in his eyes for just a moment. I can feel the way he melts against me, surrendering to the softness I offer as if my presence is a balm for the war he's continually waging against his past.

Shane Kennedy is an amazing man.

He looks after Ashanti like a protector, steps up without being asked when she needs support, and never folds under my authority as his boss. He balances strength and gentleness, always treating me as an equal while being the perfect lover.

The overwhelming thought of losing him weighs heavily on my heart, stirring an ache deep within. I hold him tighter because we don't have much longer.

This gnaws at me, heightening the urgency of every shared smile and moment I can steal with him.

As I pull away, breathless, the reality of my fear hits harder. I silently pray for more time, wishing I could bottle this feeling, this connection, so I could carry it with me long after I leave—the touch of his hand, the warmth of his embrace, and the power of our kisses.

"Thank you for sharing that with me," I murmur.

He pulls back, cupping my face in his hands. "Thank you for listening."

We continue our walk, the mood lighter now. I find myself opening up, too, telling him about Ashanti's first steps and her first words. The pride in my voice surprises me.

"She's lucky to have you," Shane says.

I shrug, uncomfortable with the praise. "I do my best. It's not always easy, being on our own."

He nods, his expression thoughtful. "I can't imagine. But from what I've seen, you're a great mom."

We reach the end of the alley and turn back. As we walk, Shane's phone buzzes. He glances at it, his jaw tightening for a moment before he shoves it back into his pocket.

"Everything okay?" I ask.

He nods, but there's a tension in his shoulders that wasn't there before. "Just information for my next gig. Nothing important."

"So, you've decided?"

Shane's jaw clenches as he mutters, "More like it was decided for me." His tone is barely audible, but I catch it. He quickens his pace, almost dragging me along. "Come on, let's get out of here."

Back at the hotel, Shane surprises me with a dress. As I open the closet door, it catches my eye immediately—a deep blue gown that seems to shimmer like the night sky, draped elegantly on the padded hanger.

"Shane, what is this?" I ask, running my hand over the silky fabric.

He grins, looking pleased with himself. "I thought we could go out somewhere nice for dinner. Our last night here and all."

I eye the dress, then Shane. "This is too much. I can't accept this."

"Please," he says, his voice soft. "I want to do something special for you."

I hesitate, torn between my pride and the earnest look in his eyes. Finally, I nod. "Alright. But just for tonight."

The fabric has a luxurious sheen, flowing silk that glides like water when I reach out to touch it.

I run my fingers along the hem, feeling the delicate stitching that adds an exquisite touch—meticulous embellishments that twinkle like stars against the rich backdrop of the fabric.

The neckline is a tasteful yet daring plunge, suggesting elegance without being overly revealing, while intricate lace trim traces the edges, adding a hint of vintage charm to the modern silhouette.

The waist is beautifully tailored and cinched to accentuate curves and create a flattering hourglass shape that I can only dream of having.

The bodice is adorned with subtle beading that catches the light in a mesmerizing way, making it appear almost ethereal. I can't imagine how it would feel to wear it, slipping into something so refined that it practically whispers luxury.

I stand, awe-struck and breathless, as I take in what Shane has chosen for me. It screams elegance and luxury, not boots and denim. Well beyond my usual fare or even what I'd consider spending on myself.

So many emotions swirling within me: gratitude for Shane's generosity, awe at the level of his thoughtfulness, and an unease that comes with knowing I'm not the kind of woman who gets dressed up. But tonight, I'll do it for him.

"Let's get ready. We have reservations at eight."

"Okay."

It takes a little hop and wiggle to get into it, but the dress fits perfectly, hugging my curves in all the right places. When I step out of the bathroom, Shane's eyes widen.

"Wow," he breathes. "You look... incredible."

I can't help the heat that creeps up my cheeks. "You clean up pretty nice yourself, Kennedy."

He laughs, offering me his arm. "Shall we?"

The restaurant is fancier than anywhere I've been in years. Crystal chandeliers hang from the ceiling, and the menu doesn't have prices listed. I shift in my seat, feeling out of place.

"Relax," Shane says, reaching across the table to take my hand. "This place comes highly recommended."

I nod, but I can't shake the feeling that something's off. Shane seems too comfortable here as if he's used to this kind of luxury. It doesn't fit with the man I've come to know at the ranch.

As we eat, I watch him, trying to reconcile this version of Shane with the one I know. He catches me staring and raises an eyebrow.

"Are you ready to leave?" he asks.

I shake my head, looking around the room. I consider pushing and asking the questions that are burning in my throat. But I let it go.

"Just thinking about how nice this is," I say instead. "Thank you for tonight."

His smile is warm, but there's a flicker of something in his eyes. I lean forward to ask, but the waiter arrives with dessert.

Back at the hotel, the tension between us is electric. Shane's hands are gentle as he unzips my dress, his lips trailing down my neck. I turn in his arms, capturing his mouth in a kiss.

We tug and tumble, a heated dance of undressing, all lips and fabric, and stifled moans.

Shane's hands slide my dress down my shoulders, his mouth trailing kisses along my collarbone. I fumble with his belt, desperate to feel his skin against mine.

Our clothes pool around us as we stumble towards the bed, unable to break the contact of our lips.

Tonight's the last night together like this. Tomorrow is back to normal.

How will we go back to hiding? How will I sleep without him?

This weekend has changed everything.

Shane's touch brings me back to the moment. Hot, slow, reverent, like he's memorizing every inch of my skin. I arch into him, wanting more, needing to be closer.

When he enters me, it's different than before. Slower, more intense. I look into his eyes and see something that scares me with its intensity. I close my eyes, losing myself in the sensation instead.

We move together, a slow-burn building. I feel him everywhere, in every cell of my body. His name falls from my lips, a desperate plea. He answers by driving into me deeper, his breath ragged.

The world falls away. Nothing exists but him, his weight on me, inside me. We move together, a slow climb to the edge of the universe.

The realization that this might be the last time clings to me with a death grip. I can feel the sadness and longing in our every touch. When we come together, it's with a shuddering, heart-wrenching intensity.

His strokes are deep and deliberate as if he wants to imprint himself on my soul. His lips find mine, swallowing my cries of pleasure.

"I'll miss this," he whispers against my skin, his voice rough and raw. "I'll miss you."

Tears well in my eyes, and I turn away. "Don't, Shane, please."

"Look at me," he says, gently turning my face back towards him. "You're mine. Every inch of you. No matter where we are. Do you understand?"

"Yes," I whisper. "Yours."

He kisses me again, claiming my mouth as fiercely as he's claimed my body.

And I surrender to him, giving myself over completely, knowing that this may be the last time.

His speed increases, and I rock, needing to feel every inch of him. His cock fills me, stretching me. I love the feel of it sliding in and out.

I grip his ass, pulling him deeper, harder. His body on mine, in mine, is everything I've ever wanted.

We move together until the world explodes. I cry out his name as my orgasm crashes over me. Blinding, white-hot explosion, leaving me shattered in its wake.

He holds me close, his body trembling as he spills into me, his own release tearing through him.

Shane rolls off me, pulling me onto his chest. He's still inside me, and I can feel him softening.

After, I lie in Shane's arms, my head on his chest. His heartbeat is steady under my ear, and I wish we could stay like this forever.

"Tell me about Ashanti's father," Shane says suddenly, his voice quiet in the darkness.

I tense, surprised by the question. "Why do you want to know?"

He shrugs, his fingers tracing patterns on my back. "I just want to understand. You don't have to tell me if you don't want to."

I'm quiet for a long moment, weighing my options.

My relationship with Jordan has been a defining moment of my life. The memories swirl like dark clouds, threatening to drown me. When I finally find the courage to speak, my voice is a whisper, laced with the rawness of my emotions.

"He betrayed me. Us." The words stick in my throat, almost choking me as I try to keep my composure. "He's wealthy, connected. He uses it all to try to control me."

"What do you mean?"

"I met Jordan at a rodeo. He had on a button-up and jeans with a Stetson. He smiled, and I ignored him. But he kept popping up, and before the night ended, I gave him my number." I shake my head. "I didn't know that one lapse in judgment would ruin my life."

Shane's grip on my hand tightens, and he shifts closer, steadying me with his presence.

"It all felt like a fairy tale until the day I found out the truth. He was married," I say, my voice barely above a whisper, "it felt like the ground dropped out from under me. We'd been in a relationship for almost five years. We lived together. We had a child."

"How'd you find out?"

“I was at work, just like any other day, and I got a text that didn’t make sense. A name. A wife. I thought it was a joke.” I take a breath, steadying myself. "But then it all unraveled. I scrolled through the messages and realized the man I loved—who I thought was my partner—had a whole life I didn’t know about."

Shane listens, absorbing every word like a silent strength. I lean into him, seeking comfort in his warmth. He rests his forehead against mine, feathers soft kisses on my temple, whispering, “You’re safe,” after each confession.

Each uttered syllable cracks the facade I’ve carefully built, and I feel vulnerability wash over me. It’s terrifying yet liberating to peel back the layers and reveal the truth I fight so hard to hide.

The thought of standing up to Jordan has me terrified. So much so that I'd rather run than face him. Because I can't lose Ashanti.

She's my world.

“It turned out he had a wife and four sons that I didn’t even know existed. He thought he could keep me on the side, that I wouldn’t find out. Even when he was with me, he would flaunt his 'business trips'—which were just excuses to juggle his lives.”

The memory stings and I swallow the lump in my throat, forcing myself to continue. "The manipulation started almost immediately after I left him. He'd send me pictures of his life—how perfect everything was back in Atlanta, how his business was thriving. It was like he was saying, 'Look what you've lost.'"

I pull away slightly, looking into Shane’s eyes, searching for any hints of judgment or pity. But instead, I find a softness in his blue gaze, an understanding that urges me to keep going.

"He knew I was vulnerable, without family or friends nearby. He would drop threats and talk about how, with just one call, he could make sure I lost everything. My job. My home. Even Ashanti. Then he threatened my mom, and I knew I had to leave."

His breath hitches, and Shane pulls me tighter against him as if to shield me from the past.

"You didn't deserve that," he murmurs, his voice a low growl that seems to reverberate through me.

“Every time I tried to regain some independence, he’d pull me back in, remind me of what he could take away,” I continue, feeling the freedom in acknowledging the truth. “He thought money was power, that it gave him the right to control my life. That’s why I’ve been moving constantly—hiding, trying to keep Ashanti safe from his reach. Constantly running from the very shadows of my life.”

Tears prick at my eyes, and I blink them away, grateful for the way Shane is coaxing me further, urging me to share.

"I can still hear his voice, the way he’d twist the truth to fit his narrative, trying to make me feel small and powerless. When the truth is nothing about me fit in his life. He couldn't show up to his ritzy parties with a Black woman on his arm."

He tilts my chin up gently, locking his gaze with mine. “You are not defined by him. You are defined by how you rise from it.” His words settle in the air between us, filled with conviction, wrapping around my heart.

I lean into him, pressing my forehead against his shoulder, feeling the strength of his resolve as I let out a shaky breath.

"Thank you for listening," I whisper, overwhelmed by the release of pent-up emotions.

Shane pulls me closer, pressing a kiss to the top of my head. "You're incredible, you know that?"

I don't respond, my mind whirling. I've never told anyone about Jordan's threats or his ultimatums. Not even my mother knows the full extent of it. But here I am, spilling my secrets to Shane in the dark.

But I guess what's done in the dark always comes to the light.