“I’ll be here,” he says, not meeting my eyes.
It’s not a goodbye, or a see you later.
I reach up and pull him down for one more kiss—slowly this time, softly, saying everything we haven’t figured out how to put into words yet.
Then, I get in the car, climbing over the center console with his words ringing in my ears—you need a new car—damn straight I do. Then I start the engine, which, for once, starts without an issue.
Maybe the universe thinks I should leave too.
I watch him in the rearview mirror as I drive away, standing in the snow with his hands in his pockets and his dog at his side.
Tears blur my vision, and I sink my teeth into my lip, my throat swollen at the sight of them disappearing in my rearview.
Then he’s gone.
This isn’t over.
It can’t be.
I make it halfway down the mountain before I have to pull over.
My hands shake on the steering wheel; my vision blurs with tears I've been holding back since the cabin. The car idles—miraculously still running—while I press my palms against my eyes and try to remember how to breathe.
He let me go.
There was no fight or plea to stay. Just that blankness, like the last eight days didn't happen. Like he didn't hold me through the night and whisper my real name as if it meant something.
My phone buzzes.
It’s Beth.
Beth:The roads are clear! Please confirm you’re alive.
Beth:Hello???
Beth:COOKIE, I SWEAR TO GOD.
I type back with numb fingers:
Almost home. I'm fine.
I'm not fine.
I put the car in drive and keep going, watching the mountain disappear behind me, and I can’t help feeling I’ve left something behind.
Chapter Twelve
RED
DAY 9 ~ JANUARY 1
Day One.
I split wood until my shoulders scream and stack it in perfect rows. I keep finding reasons to stay outside where the cold bites hard enough to keep me focused on anything but the silence inside.
It’s too fucking quiet in there.
Bear watches from the porch, head on his paws, staring at the empty driveway.
