“Then what happened?”She asks softly.
I try not to shut my eyes.
This is the part that usually makes my chest burn, making breathing feel impossible.
I wait for the fire to crawl up my throat, but for the first time in seven years, it stays at bay.
Finally…
"She died," I say quietly."Three months after the divorce finalized.Car accident on Highway 1."
I hear the pop of Sage’s mouth falling open.Her fingers find mine, and squeeze.
"I'm sorry."
So am I.
Sorry that the woman I once thought was the love of my life died.
Sorry I couldn't be what she needed.Sorry I wasn't enough.
But mostly I’m sorry that for so many years I couldn’t separate the grief from the anger.
She betrayed me, destroyed my family, and stole from me.
And still I loved her.
My fingers tighten around Sage’s.“And you called your life a ‘mess.’Mine is thirty shades of fucked up.”
“Yeah,” Sage agrees.“It’s all pretty fucked up.”Her tiny fingernails curl softly into my palm.“But also human.”Her voice is a rasp.“And I like this part of you.”
“The disaster part?”
“The real part.The part behind the steel curtain you keep up.”
I glance up, my gaze ticking up to Sage’s beautiful face, my gaze taking in her small pointed chin, her full pink mouth.
My eyes linger on the curve of it, the small bow shape of her lips when the train finally begins to slow.
Shit.We’re nearly here.Approaching Alder Ridge.
Forty minutes that felt like seconds and years simultaneously have apparently passed.
"So that's why the train," Sage breathes out."Somewhere that was just yours.Untainted."
"Untouched by memories, yes.I've taken exactly twenty-four trips in seven years.Always alone."I look at her."Until tonight."
"Luke..."
"You're the first person I've told.About all of it.Connor and the others know the basics, but not...Not how it felt.Not how it still feels.Like…” The words stick in my mouth.“Like I’m defective.Like when it comes to love or romance or any of it, that I’m always going to, I don’t know…malfunction.Like my internal code when it comes to this shit just isn’t written right.”
The train slides to a stop at the small platform.Through the window, I can see the inn in the distance, lights warm against the November darkness.
"We're here," I declare.
"We're here," Sage echoes., but doesn't move.
We stand frozen, hands still linked, both knowing that stepping off this train means stepping into something else.
