Noah would have come up with one. He always had contingencies, always thought three steps ahead. Even when it came to them, to their relationship. He’d led with his heart, full speed ahead, no apologies.
Move in with me.
She’d panicked. Pushed back. Run away.
But why?
The answer lurked in the darkness, patient as the mountains themselves. Waiting for her to finally face it.
Because Noah scared her more than any treacherous canyon or sheer rock face ever had. More than her father’s disappointment or Bonner’s snide comments or any of the physical dangers she’d faced in this wilderness.
Noah loved at the same intensity she competed. All in, no holds barred, full commitment to the goal. He didn’t just want to be part of her life—he wanted to be her partner in everything.
And that terrified her.
Because what if she wasn’t enough? What if she let him in and he discovered that beneath all her fierce independence, she was just a woman who’d never been good enough for anyone?
Her father had taught her that lesson early. Excellence was the minimum requirement. Anything less meant failure. And failure meant watching the people you loved walk away.
So she’d made sure no one got close enough to matter. Until Noah.
Noah, who’d charged into her life like the hurricane he’d warned her about. Who matched her competitive streak with his own brand of intensity. Who saw past her walls to the woman underneath and loved her anyway.
Who’d never once asked her to be anything other than exactly who she was.
Fresh pain lanced through her chest that had nothing to do with the cold or lack of oxygen. She’d been so busy protecting herself that she’d missed the obvious truth—Noah wasn’t trying to box her in, direct her life, take away her independence. He was offering to share her adventures, amplify her strengths, weather her storms.
He was offering partnership, not possession.
And she’d thrown it back in his face because she’d been too scared to admit even she could see the difference.
The darkness pressed closer, heavy with revelation. She’d spent her whole life proving she didn’t need anyone, convinced that independence meant isolation. That letting someone in meant giving up control.
But that wasn’t what Noah wanted. He’d never tried to take control—he’d offered to share it. To be her backup when she needed it, her cheerleader when she didn’t. To love her through all of it.
“I really messed up.” The words felt like gravel in her throat. “I had everything and I ran away from it instead of exploring it. Instead of taking it as a new challenge.”
Ripley whined softly.
“I know, girl. I know.” She buried her fingers in the lab’s fur, anchoring herself against the truth she couldn’t escape. “I’m an idiot. The guy literally says, ‘I’m intense and I don’t apologize for it,’ and I somehow miss that it would apply to everything. Even me.”
Noah didn’t just keep up with her—he challenged her to be better. Showed her that vulnerability could be strength. That letting someone in didn’t mean letting them take over.
That love wasn’t a cage at all. It was a choice.
And she’d chosen wrong.
The realization broke something loose inside her chest. A wall she’d built so long ago she’d forgotten it was there. The one that said she had to do everything alone or it didn’t count.
She didn’t want to do this alone anymore.
The truth of it shocked her, but not as much as the peace that followed. Like finally accepting that sometimes the best route up the mountain wasn’t the hardest one.
Sometimes the best path was the one that led to where you wanted to be, even if that wasn’t where you thought you were going.
If she ever got out of here, she’d tell Noah that. Tell him everything. How she’d been so focused on protecting herself that she’d missed the obvious truth—that he made her stronger, not weaker. That his intensity matched hers perfectly. That she’d been afraid of losing control when, really, she’d been afraid of letting him love her.
She wanted to tell him that she loved him back.
