"Time's up, Ruby," Devin calls.
She grabs her pack, her weapons, everything I've prepared for her. At the door, she turns back one last time.
"I'll come back," she says. "I swear it."
"I'll be here."
She kisses me one more time, fierce and desperate and full of promise. Then she's gone, following Devin and the others into the trees, and I'm alone again in my cabin.
But it's a different kind of alone now. The cabin feels empty in a way it never did before, and I find myself moving through familiar spaces that suddenly feel too big, too quiet, too cold despite the fire.
I make it until noon before I have to admit the truth to myself.
I'm in love with her.
Completely, terrifyingly in love with a woman who just walked out of my life, heading to a settlement a hundred miles away, surrounded by dangers and uncertainties and a whole life that doesn't include me.
And I let her go.
I sit by the fire, staring into the flames, and make a decision. She promised to come back, but I'm not going to sit here waiting like some passive character in my own life. I have work to do. Demons to face. A future to build that might actually be worth her coming back to.
I grab my pack and walk out to the fire scar, to the place where my crew died, where I've been punishing myself for years.
"I'm sorry," I tell them, tell the ghosts, tell the blackened trees. "I'm sorry I lived when you didn't. I'm sorry I hid while you died. I'm sorry I couldn't save you."
The wind moves through the branches, carrying memories.
"But I'm going to stop hiding now. I'm going to live instead of just exist. I'm going to be the kind of man who deserves someone like Ruby." I take a breath. "I'm going to let you go."
It doesn't fix anything. The guilt doesn't disappear. But something loosens in my chest, like I've taken off a weight I've been carrying for so long I forgot it was there.
I head back to the cabin and start making plans.
six
Ruby
Twoweekslater,I'mstanding in what passes for the Old Pines community center, really just a converted warehouse with some chairs and a bulletin board, listening to Devin brief everyone on winter preparations, and all I can think about is Mayson.
Does he miss me? Is he eating properly? Is he lonely, or is he back to being content in his solitude? Did I imagine the connection between us, or did the time together mean as much to him as they did to me?
"Ruby, you with us?"
I snap back to attention, finding Devin watching me with knowing eyes.
"Sorry. What were you saying about the supply rotation?"
"I was saying maybe you should tell us what's really on your mind instead of pretending to pay attention."
I glance around the room at the dozen faces watching me—convoy members who've become family over the past year. They're all smiling, some knowingly, some amused.
"I'm just distracted," I say.
"By a certain mountain man?" Devin suggests.
Heat floods my face. "I don't know what you're talking about."
"Ruby, you've been moping for two weeks. You check the radio every hour like you're expecting a call. And you've reorganized the supply depot three times." He leans back in his chair. "That man made an impression."
