I stared at the message. So normal. So sweet. So completely unaware that I was falling apart in my kitchen.
I should respond. I should tell him about the ranger, let him reassure me. That's what couples did. That's what trust looked like.
My fingers moved before I could stop them.
Emma
Long day. Going to bed early. Talk tomorrow.
I hit send. The lie tasted like ash.
His response came immediately.
Cole
Everything okay?
Emma
Fine. Just tired.
Cole
You sure?
No. Nothing is fine. Nothing will ever be fine.
Emma
Positive. Kiss Sarah goodnight for me.
Cole
Will do. Sweet dreams, Emma.
I turned off my phone.
The cabin was too quiet now. The wind had died to a whisper, which was somehow worse. I could hear my own heartbeat, too fast, too loud.
I thought about Sarah's face that morning.Mommy. The hope in her eyes when I said it made me happy.
I'd done that. I'd let her believe in something.
When I pulled away, and I would, because this fear was rotting the foundation of everything I touched—she would be devastated. She would think it was her fault. She would learn, again, that loving people meant losing them.
That damage would be on me.
"Stop it," I said out loud. "You're spiraling."
But the spiral had teeth.
I saw Cole carrying me up the mountain, his arms steady and sure. I saw him teaching Sarah to read the weather, to respect the wilderness. I saw twenty years of happiness ending with a knock on a door, a ranger's careful expression, words like "accident" and "didn't suffer."
I saw myself at another funeral. A small one this time. A man who'd shown me what love could look like and a girl who'd called me Mommy.
"Stop." My voice cracked. "Please stop."
I made it to my bedroom. I didn't remember walking there. The sheets were cold as I crawled in, still wearing my clothes.
