But first, I’ll have to persuade myself. It’s still better than going back, I know that. My head just needs to catch up with my heart.
I don’t want to move into the apartment in Boulder. It doesn’t call to me the way the cabin is. It’s hard to explain, but it feels like if I don’t stay in Wildhart, I’d rather just go back to San Francisco.
I hate this restless, rootless feeling of not knowing where home is. I’m starting to annoy myself at this point.
The GPS announcing, “Starting route to Sapphire Valley” drags me out of my overthinking.
One thing at a time, Ayden. You’ll be fine.
I’ll admit, the drive here was absolutely breathtaking. The moment we left the highway, entering Maple Falls and venturing deeper into the forest, I barely breathed, too awestruck to do anything but stare.
California is beautiful, but something about Colorado feelsfreeing—especially this place.
We pass through the gates of Sapphire Valley, and a small curse escapes my sister. “What the?” At the fork in the road, the right side is blocked off. She groans and turns left instead.
As we make our way up the road, Alysa rolls the windows down. It’s all trees, grass, dirt, and the lake. Wildlife is sparse—deer, rabbits—but that’s it. This isn’t a big city where people will just be wandering around. I love that it’s gated too; it feels safer.
On our right, we pass an A-frame cabin mid-renovation. I think this is the one Travis mentioned. It looks like it’s coming along nicely—I’ll have to look up information about the fire or ask the owners at some point.
About a mile up the road, we take a soft right turn and continue forward when once again to our right, is a cabin.
No. Not a cabin. A fuckingmansion.“Holy shit,” I say through a laugh. “That seems out of place.”
“Dad and Leilani had said that the owner has been a recluse since his wife and daughter went missing last Thanksgiving…”
“What? Holy shit.”
“Yeah…”
I just wanted to admire the massive two-story home, and not be sad—because that isterriblytragic.
The cabin-mansion isn’t the kind of modernized house you’d see in a suburban neighborhood, but its size feels out of place compared to that A-frame—and from the photos I’ve seen of Wildhart. This place’s stone structure is trimmed with dark wood, and is absolutely beautiful. I imagine the windows must offer a stunning view of the cascading mountains to our left.
I adjust my gaze forward as we turn down the road that will take us to our cabin.
It takes just over twenty minutes to drive all the way around the lake. Our family’s two-story home comes into view, and a wave of peace washes over me. It’s far nicer in person—Alysa’s photos didn’t do it justice.
We come to a stop, and there’s zero hesitation to me jumping out. I don’t expect to go inside, and as anticipated, no cars are parked around the cabin besides ours. I round the front and headstraight to the dock.
The weather is perfect—not too hot, and not cold. It’s August, and I know it will start to cool soon; before long, snow will blanket the area. I’m not particular about any season, though the sun does seem to lift my mood.
The sun equals happiness, right?
I take a deep breath, tuck my hands into the pockets of my shorts, and lean to one side. Dropping my head back, I smile. The wind lifts my hair and carries the scents of forest and the lake.
God, it’s glorious, and for a fleeting moment, I feel like I might actually be okay.
This cements it: this is exactly where I need to be, at least temporarily. I can clear my head, and make some decisions about my life. Here, I can finally do what I couldn’t back in San Francisco.
Be safe.
Even now, my dad and stepmom are taking care of me—as they always tried to do…
“You always have a place with us, Ayden. The spare bedroom here at the cabin is yours, all you need to do is say you need it. And don’t forget about Keo. He’d help you with whatever you needed.”
“Hey, righty, where’s your phone?”
I take a breath before turning to look down at my sister who gives me a grin.
