“I…” My mouth opens, but nothing comes out.
“Sagebrush is perfect for you. I’m proud of what you’ve accomplished. You’ve created the perfect life for yourself.”
“It’s not perfect,” I say.It’s nothing without you.
Sierra’s smile is sad and sympathetic. It makes my gut ache.
“We had a few weeks together. They were the best weeks of my life, and I…” She takes a deep breath. “But this isn’t the path we’re meant to take.”
“If you want to go, I can’t make you stay,” I say while my mind races to come up with something I can do or say to make her stay.
Nothing. My Triple-S list failed. And now all other coercions I can think of feel just like that—coercion. I don’t want to pressure, influence, or manipulate her anymore. I want her to stay because she loves me as much as I love her.
“Sierra.” It hurts to say her name.
“Yes?”
“Text me when you get to Sedona? So I know you’re safe this time?” I can’t keep the bitterness from leaking into my words.
She smiles sadly. “I will.”
We sit side by side until Sam arrives. I help her pay the difference for her repairs, and then I watch her drive away.
Thirty
Sierra
In theory, Sedona is beautiful. Towering red mountains rise over a lush landscape. There are plenty of hikes and places to climb.
Trinity is so excited to see me. When I arrive, she hugs me and takes me out to get burgers at this alien-themed joint. Flying saucers circle lazily above us while a particularly smug green alien stares at me from over her shoulder.
“Tell me all about it! I’ve heard good things about Sagebrush. The place really seems to have turned things around over the past few years.”
“Yeah,” I agree. How does everyone else seem to know that but me? I’ve been too good at dodging all mentions of Sagebrush, even the positive ones. “It’s quaint.” The burger feels dry in my mouth, and I struggle to chew and swallow it.
“Do any climbing while you were there?”
Just the mention of climbing transports me back to IsolationCanyon. Oh, great, another reminder of him. It feels like I can’t even go five seconds without thinking of him.
“A little,” I manage.
Trinity tilts her head. “Are you okay?” she asks quietly. “Your vibe is off.”
“I’m tired,” I say. It’s true. I’m weary down to my bones. I can barely lift my head to make eye contact with her. “I’m excited to do some climbing here, though.”
I look out the large window at the awe-inspiring landscape before us. Logan would like that bell-shaped climb. He’s so good at vertical pitches, so strong. It would be a beautiful thing to see.
I’ll never see Logan again.
The realization is like falling on a climb—a sickening free fall, then the jolting catch of the rope. Of realizing that I’m not going to die, but still feeling the fear nonetheless. I press my hand to my stomach, willing myself to breathe.
“Sierra?”
I push my plate away. “Sorry. Bad breakup.”
“Oh, girl.” Trinity’s face softens. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t realize you were seeing anyone.”
“It was just for a few weeks.” That feels a little dishonest for how intense our short-lived second round was.
