“Sure, but it’s not one I’d ever make. You know me, Kat. Everything you know about me is true. The only thing that’s different is that my people are Logan’s. I used to work for him back in Saint Louis. He kept me and Burgundy alive in that year after Impact. Then we started traveling with him. Then we settled here in the Wild.Then I lost Burgundy, and I left. Everything is exactly what I told you.”
I’m breathing fast and loud through my nose, trying to settle the rising emotion. Before Micah showed up, I’d gone years without ever feeling like this. Without emotions drowning me.
I hate it.
I wish I hated him, but I don’t.
“I’m sorry, Kat. I really am. I’ve been wanting to tell you for days, but I was afraid you’d kick me out, and I didn’t want to lose you. But tell me the truth,” Micah says, walking faster so he can fall into step beside me. “You know I haven’t been lying to you about everything. You know I’m still the man you believed me to be.”
“I thought you were a decent person,” I grit out.
“I told you I wasn’t. I told you I wasn’t a hero. You said you didn’t care.”
“I didn’t think you were a liar.”
“I didn’t—” He cuts himself off, jerking his head to the side as his face contorts briefly, like he’s having to fight to stifle his instinctive objection. When he does speak, it’s in a hoarse, resigned tone. “You’re right. I can justify it however I want, but it doesn’t change the fact that I knew from the beginning my connection to Logan would be a deal-breaker for you, and that’s the reason I kept it a secret. I was wrong. I was the same kind of asshole as the other men in your past. You deserved better from me.” Helets out a raspy exhale. “I’ll pack up and leave in the morning. Or as soon as we get back if you want me gone tonight.”
I don’t respond. I can’t respond. Because his naked admission tears me up even more than his lie.
I have no idea what to do. What to think. How to hold back the storm of emotion that’s currently trapped in my chest and throat and pushing against the backs of my eyes.
Shit.
Shit, shit, shit.
Why the hell did he have to take responsibility and apologize in a way that felt so real?
Because I’m simply not as hard-hearted as I’d like to be, and now I’m tempted to forgive him.
The restof the hike home is long and silent and painful. As much for Micah as for me. I can see it in his face.
Molly comes running toward us when we reach the perimeter of my camp. I’m so torn up I kneel to give the dog a hug, burying my face in her soft fur for a few moments before I pull myself together.
“I’m really sorry, Kat,” Micah mutters, soft and stretched. “You were safe and content here on your own, and I fucked it up for you. I’ll get my stuff and leave.”
A small sob lodges in my throat. I hide my face against Molly again as my shoulders shake a few times. But I’m composed again as I stand up and look at him. “No. You can leave in the morning. If you try to travel at night, you’ll end up getting killed and all the work I put into keeping you alive will be wasted. Leave in the morning.”
“Okay. I will.”
We washup after the long day and fix a quick dinner of bacon, roasted carrots, and a potato. It’s delicious. And by the time we’re sitting near the firepit after we finish eating, it feels almost normal between us again.
Because the shock and pain has faded, and the truth has settled into my mind like the final puzzle piece.
And Micah is right. Nothing about my view of him has really changed. I understand how he and his sister ended up with Logan. Who in their position wouldn’t hook up with a leader strong enough to keep them safe? And I understand why he didn’t tell me at each stage.
I might have made the same decision in his place.
It doesn’t make it right. And it doesn’t mean it doesn’t hurt. But the world has been far too hard these past three years—it’s battered all the energy out of me. And I have none left to hold on to a fairly small grievance just for the sake of the grievance.
I can’t fully trust him, but I never did. And I’m not truly angry.
Maybe I’m a weak, spineless sap at heart, but I don’t want to lash out anymore.
“Thank you,” Micah says at last.
“For what?”
“For keeping me alive. For taking care of me when I needed it. For sharing your life with me for even this short a time. It’s meant… It’s meant more to me than I can ever express.”
