“No.” She shook her head, and her painted pink lips curled up again into that easy smile I’d been so happy to see. “Relieved. Terrified. Free. And more than a little unhinged, for sure.” Her smile turned wry. “But definitely not sad.”
I let out a slow breath I hadn’t realized I’d been holding. “You look like you’d been crying.”
“I was.”
I cocked a brow, and she laughed.
“It was more of anI can’t believe I just did thatlaugh.” She shrugged. “Like I said, a little unhinged.”
“Unhinged looks good on you.” I laughed a little. “It’s different. I like it.”
“You keep saying that.”
“Because I mean it. You look different. But in a really good way,” I added quickly. “And I don’t mean the makeup…” I waved my hand in a circle to encompass her made-up look, and she laughed harder. “I don’t like how it’s covering your freckles, to be honest,” I admitted before continuing. “But you look lighter and just…I don’t know how to explain it,” I finished lamely. “But I like it.”
“Thank you,” she said. “I know I should probably feel bad and totally guilty for what I just did, but I don’t.”
She turned her attention back to the puppy, who was snoring softly in her lap. The fire popped behind me, the cabin already warming up nicely. The rain on the roof had settled into a steady rhythm.
“I think we might be stuck here for a bit.” I shifted on the stool.
“That suits me just fine.” She leaned back against the wall. “I’m not exactly in a hurry.”
I knew she meant that she wasn’t in a hurry to get back to the mess she’d left behind, but the way she said it made me wish she meant something else entirely. Something that had nothing to do with running, and everything to do with me.
“Well.” I cleared my throat and stood. “Since we’re not going anywhere for a while, I have something that might helpus pass the time.” I rummaged through my pack that I’d left by the door, and pulled out my meager supplies that included a few dehydrated meals and a small metal flask.
“Whiskey?” Her eyes lit up with interest.
“Good whiskey,” I corrected her.
She shifted over on the small bed to make room for me to sit. Summit groaned and wiggled closer to her again. “And why would you have good whiskey for a night alone in the hunting cabin?”
I probably shouldn’t have told her the truth, but there didn’t seem to be much point in hiding it. I unscrewed the top and handed her the flask. “Because today was supposed to be your wedding day.”
Jess
I held the flask, the weight of the words he’d spoken hanging between us.
Because today was supposed to be your wedding day.
I stared past him to the fire, listening to the rain drum steadily on the roof, trying to understand what he meant before lifting the flask to my lips.
The whiskey burned and heated me from the inside out.
“So,” I said carefully as I passed it back to him. “You were planning on celebrating my wedding?”
His mouth twitched, and he shrugged before taking a pull on the flask. “Depends on your definition of celebration.”
I frowned and took it back from him when he passed it over. “Wait,” I said, realization dawning. “You were out in the trails, not at the wedding.”
He raised an eyebrow.
“You weren’t going to go to the wedding?”
“No.”
The answer was immediate.
