Finally, I form words.
“That was...” My voice is hoarse.
“Too much?”
“No.” I tilt my head to look at him. “Perfect. Terrifying. But perfect.”
Like us.
Like everything about this week.
“We’re going to be okay,” he says, like he can read my mind. “When we leave here. We’re going to figure it out.”
I want to believe him. God, I want to believe him so badly.
Our bags are packed by the wall. The helicopter will be here shortly.
This room has been our world for a week, but soon we’ll walk out that door and face reality.
But we’re not the same people who got trapped here,I remind myself.
We’re not even close.
“Promise me something,” I say quietly.
“Anything.”
“When things get hard out there, when the logistics feel impossible and we’re fighting about whose city or whose life or whose career--” I take a breath. “Promise me you’ll remember this.”
He tightens his arms around me. “I promise.” I have the distinct impression he wants to say more. Wants to tell me something else. But doesn't.
Outside, I can hear the wind picking up. Soon we’ll hear helicopter blades.
But for now, we’re still here.
Still us.
“I’m scared,” I admit.
“Me, too.” He kisses my forehead. “But we face it together. Just like we fixed the generator. Shoveled out the dish. Faced the cougar. Together. That’s just how we do things now.”
Together.
What a terrifying, wonderful word.
I curl closer, breathing in the woodsmoke and his scent.
27
Gregory
The helicopter’s rotors cut through the evening air before I hear the machine itself. That distinctive thwop-thwop-thwop that means our bubble is about to burst.
Though we’re dressed now, Sorrel’s still glowing from what we just did. Her lips are swollen from my mouth, her hair is a mess from my hands, and there’s a mark on her throat I put there deliberately.
Fucking gorgeous.
She’s mine and everyone’s about to know it.
