And there’shim.
His small grin that’s reserved just for me. The way he always makes me feel safe enough to be myself. How he goes out of his way to see me happy.
He feels like relief and comfort and passion all twirling together.
As I approach the city limits of Juniper, tears stream down my cheeks, dripping from my chin.
I already miss him. Even after years without him, it didn’t hurt like this. Like my chest is splitting open from the pain. The loss. The grief.
How can I miss him so much already?
Ijustleft.
Guilt racks my body as that thought crashes into my stomach.
Ilefthim. Drove down the road, his dark form shrinking in the rearview mirror while he watched my retreating car.
Just like all the people he has trusted in his life.
Idid that to him. Add me to the list of people who let him down.
Fuck.
Sharp pain lances my lungs, and I can’t breathe around it.
I have to turn around. I can’t be like them.
Rubbing the back of my hand across my cheeks, I try to keep my grip steady on the wheel. I tuck my loose curls behind my ears, looking for a spot to turn back, but as I round the final curve into town, my vision falters. The tears and the blinding sunset before me make it hard to see the lines on the road, and I veer too far into the other lane on the turn.
A car horn pierces through the air. Headlights shine directly into the windshield.
I swerve back to the right, but my tires—myfuckingbald tires—can’t get traction on the slick roads, and before I can register what’s happening, my little SUV makes a full circle and smashes into the snowbank beside the road.
My pulse throbs in my skull. Loud, raspy breaths fill the car as I do a mental inventory of my body. Legs, arms, back, neck, head. Everything seems okay, except my heart, but that was in pain before the wreck.
Violent sobs shake my shoulders as adrenaline floods my system.
I could’ve died. I could’ve collided with that car or spun further into something. I could’ve been lost in the snow for the entire night. I could’ve never seen anyone I care about again.
Warm air from the heater still blasts my cheeks, but I can’t see anything through the windshield. It’s entirely covered in snow. Turning to the passenger window, I find the warm glow from the lit sign for Bear Creek.
I’ve landed right at the edge of their parking lot.
Right where my life veered off course, where I spent the best night of my life in the arms of the man I—
My whining moan echoes through the car.
Is this a joke? Is this some sort of intervention from the universe telling me I’m making poor decisions?
Suddenly, I’m too hot, and I slam my hand over the knob for the heater to turn it off. My hands shake as I fumble for my phone and try to swipe it open. It takes me four tries, but I finally press the name of the person I want to talk to right now.
I put it on speaker, and the rings reverberate through the car’s interior.
“Lena!” Millie’s musical voice sweeps through like fresh air, and my shoulders relax a tiny bit. “How are you?”
“Um, I don’t know.” My voice cracks through every word.
“Oh, honey.” She lowers to a soothing tone, and rustles filter over the line like she’s moving to a different room.
