I pushed my hair back from my face. It had grown out almost to my shoulders, and I’d tied it back, but it never wanted to stay in place. “Why are you all so curious about me?”
“We might have a betting pool going,” Lars admitted.
I took another sip of my whiskey, the ice clinking against the glass. “You need to get out more. Promise I’m not very interesting.”
“That’s exactly what someone interesting would say,” Matteo pointed out. “Especially one who wears a bullet around his neck. Is that some strange American custom we don’t know about?”
I was certainly not answering that question. Just smiled instead.
Soon the conversation veered away from me, thankfully, and as the night wore on, some people decided to call it and head home, while others found hookups.
I headed back to the flat I shared with Lars and a couple others. They were still out, so I had the place to myself to pack before my train in the morning.
I preferred to keep my life simple. I could fit most of my possessions in a duffel and a cardboard box or two, plus an oversized bag for my equipment. My Rossignol skis and Burton snowboard were my prized possessions. Top-of-the-line gear that I maintained meticulously, the one indulgence I allowed myself.
Back when I was a Marine, my life had been equally mobile, if far less under my own control. My most prized possession had been something very different.
I touched the pendant hanging from the cord around my neck. A reminder that always calmed me when I thought about those days.
The smell of gunpowder and metal and machine oil…
I gripped the round on the cord tighter, shaking off those thoughts.
That’s not my life now, and it will never be again. That’s not me.
Peace was a choice I made, every single day. Freedom. Maybe I couldn’t ever make up for the things I’d done, but I could find a way to live with myself. And hopefully bring a smile to someone else’s day. Give more than I took, even if it meant denying myself anything more.
Where-to next? That was the question. I liked to keep things up in the air, especially for the summers. Just seeing where the wind took me. Where inspiration might lead.
There was always a voice in the back of my mind whisperingHart County, Colorado, but I knew that was a bad idea.
My best friend Owen constantly gave me shit about it.When are you going to get back here? Not like I miss you that much, but you do stir up a nice old-fashioned.
As I grabbed a book from my shelf, a folded piece of paper fell out. Already knowing what it was, I bent to pick it up. Unfolded it.
I’d printed out this photo at some point during a moment of weakness. In the image, Keira and I were standing with our heads together. Smiling.
I stared at it for a long moment, memories flooding my mind.
After tucking the paper inside the book and packing it away, I took out my phone and opened the photos app. There were other pictures I’d kept and only let myself look at on occasions like this, when I was transitioning from one place to another. When I let myself wonder…what if?
In one, Keira was making a face at the camera on thesummit of a fourteener we’d hiked. Her dark eyes were bright with laughter, genuine and unguarded.
The way she’d looked at me before I’d ruined everything.
But I’d had to ruin it. I’d had no other choice. I’d stayed way too long in Hart County, telling myself it was because of Owen and the other friends I’d made there. Genevieve, Aiden, Jessi. Trace and Scarlett. Cole and Brynn.
When really, the whole time it had beenher.
An awful, empty ache started in the pit of my stomach and spread outward. Two years, and it hadn’t faded. Two years, and I still saw her face when I closed my eyes.
That’s enough, I told myself.No more. No fucking more.
Ireland, I decided. It was incredible this time of year, based on my previous visits, and I’d probably be able to find enough work to occupy myself. A cash-only job that paid under the table. I’d already perfected my skill at pouring a Guinness.
Now that I’d decided, and the temptation of Hart County was past, I exhaled.
Forcing myself to close the photo app, I noticed a missed call. It was from Owen. Worst possible timing, given where my head was at.
