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COWBOY CASANOVA
Chapter 18

Chapter 18

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"Good to see you again, Ryder," Dr. Brown greeted as Ryder took his seat. "Your absence last week was notable."

"Apologies for that. It just wasn't within my means."

"May I ask why?"

Shifting back into the couch, Ryder let his leg fall casually over the other and started to fidget with a loose thread on his aged leather boot. "It marked eleven years since I lost my dad."

"Did you commemorate it with family?"

"No, I stuck to tradition on the day."

"What's your tradition?"

"Drowning in drink," Ryder admitted sheepishly.

"Weren't we on a path to healthier ways of managing your sorrow?"

"I know. That day, though, strength escaped me."

"You realize resorting to that can't be your lifelong shield from change, right?" Dr. Brown probed, refusing to let him wallow.

Ryder absorbed this in silence.

"Only you have the power to transform yourself, Ryder. You need to invest the energy. Without your commitment, my guidance and tools are meaningless. Change begins with your choice."

"I'm aware..."

"But do you truly grasp it?"

"I do grasp it—I'm keen to evolve."

"Then excuses need to be left behind."

"I understand."

"What about other aspects of your life? What's new?"

"Well, my birthday just passed. Isobel and a couple of friends came over for a backyard barbecue at my mom's. My brother brought his family along too."

"How did you feel about seeing Isobel after all this time?"

"The anticipation rattled me—never felt that way about meeting a woman before. Yet, her presence calmed me like a tranquil balm; I enjoyed every moment with my kin—it was sheer serenity."

"That's excellent, Ryder. Enveloping yourself in familial warmth and friendship is wise."

"With Father's Day approaching, mom and Terry plan to visit dad's resting place—it's their ritual."

"And will you join them this time?"

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"No," came the succinct reply.

"Why do you resist?"

"The truth is, I skipped my dad's funeral because the emotional weight was unbearable. With each passing year, I found myself further from the idea of visiting his grave. Eventually, it seemed pointless—a question without answer."

"Ryder, can you promise to level with me on this?"

"Sure."

"In all this time, have you ever properly bid farewell to your dad?"

The room fell into a contemplative hush as realization dawned on Ryder. "No... no I haven’t," he admitted.

"What I'm going to propose might be challenging, but I think it's important. Consider making the journey to your father’s resting place with your family. It’s time you shared a conversation with him—get your thoughts and feelings off your chest. Pen them down in a letter if prefacing your feelings with words to him directly feels too daunting, and when you're there, read it aloud. Maybe arrive earlier for some solitude? Have you ever tried capturing your emotions through journaling?"

Isobel’s gift crossed his mind, "She gifted me a journal for my birthday."

"That's wonderful. Use that journal. It doesn’t require elaborate entries. A single word or line could suffice – even an expressive sketch that captures your current emotional state is enough. Perhaps even compose a verse or melody if that resonates more with you. Take this time for introspection to discover what gives you solace."

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Isobel exited the aircraft and proceeded along the gangway, her gaze drifting through airport windows to soak in the view of a landscape that tugged at her heartstrings. With her visit spanning mere days, packing light to fit everything into her carryon was a breeze.

Approaching the security checkpoint, a joyous sight unfolded – her sister, with an exuberant toddler by her side, waving fervidly in the air to catch Isobel's attention. A wave of warmth spread across Isobel's face, widening her grin.

As she advanced through the throng of travelers, there emerged Grace and Thomas, her beloved parents. She enthusiastically returned their waves, quickening her pace.

"Hi Mom and Dad," she called out with added cheer. "And there's Fancy." Upon reaching the greeting area, she embraced each one of them: mother first, father next, then Fancy and little Skylar joined in.

The family chatter ignited as they settled into the car, effortlessly transitioning from discussions about Isobel's academic pursuits, Skylar’s latest antics to updates on Priscilla and the bustling law firm run by their father. Although half a year had lapsed since Isobel's winter visit home, thoughts of Ryder persisted, leaving a trail of concern in her heart.

Back amidst the comforting walls of her parental home, Isobel reacquainted herself with her childhood sanctuary. The room stood unchanged – lacrosse accolades adorned the shelf while artistic achievements stared back from the walls; even her cherished teddy bear held vigil at the bed’s helm. Clutching the bear close to her chest after grazing its enduring features with tender fingertips, she perched pensively on the edge of her bed.

Distractedly retrieving her phone, she tapped out a message assuring Rose of her safe arrival before hovering over Ryder's contact, opting for a text over a call to relay news of her journey’s end.

Evening descended upon the Wrights as they congregated on their ample deck; where Isobel savored each breath laden with seaward scents and let ambient sounds ferry her into nostalgia—the gull’s haunting cry overhead and soothing whispers of tide brushing shore conferring solace as ever before.

Suddenly jolted from reverie by Fancy's hushed query concerning Ryder, Isobel’s head snapped in surprise toward an impish smile. "Not at all," she retorted quickly with eyes wide enough to convey clear caution.

"And when will you share this secret?"

"I'm uncertain...Perhaps there's no story to share just yet."

"But your eyes betray you," Fancy pressed gently. "They ignite when his name graces your lips."

Isobel intertwined fingers with Fancy’s hands earnestly. "He’s captured my heart unexpectedly—yet his life is tangled at present. Without his resolve to mend things...there can be no 'us'. And that possibility shatters me."

Their intimate exchange caught Grace’s attention momentarily. "What whispers are these?"

"Just sisters bonding,” Fancy quipped effortlessly with a playful wink toward Isobel as she relaxed back into her seat.