This feeling had been… fleeting,before, tinged with anxiety that it wouldn’t last.
But not with Logan. I wasn’t afraid he wasgoing to suddenly stop being kind to me.
Probably because he hadkindness written through him like the rings of an ancient tree. All the way tohis core.
I was never going to forgethim.
EIGHTEEN
LOGAN
Ashley had gone quiet afterthenow leaving San Franciscosign, staring down at his phone, then outat the road, and now at his own reflection in the sun visor.
I wanted to say somethinguseful. Soothe the ache I could see all over him, in the slump of hisshoulders, in the restlessness of the way he sat.
On the other hand, I didn’t want to annoyor distract him pointlessly. This was a big moment. It was okay for him tofeelit.
What could I do to make iteasier on him without just… delaying the grief so I wouldn’t have to be thereto see it? How was I supposed to handle someone’s whole life crumbling underthem?
Two hours later, I stilldidn’thave an answer.
We stopped to eat, Ashleypicking at fries and sipping bottled water, only saying enough to get acrossthat I was going to have to finish them for him.
I didn’t really want toeat, either, and we both walked away no better for having stopped.
Seven more hours of this.
I shouldn’t have beencomplaining, even to myself. For me, this was the job. What I was being paid todo.
Ashley was the one hurting,but my heart ached with sympathy for him. After seeing him yesterday, glowingwith happiness, this was hard.
I turned the radio on to dosomething about the silence.
Forty-five minutes later,Ashley asked quietly if I minded him turning it off.
By the time we stopped for asecond break to pee and refuel, both of us were on edge.
I didn’t blame Ashley.Not for a minute. He had every right to be anxious, and I didn’t even mind himsnapping at me when I asked if he wanted to stretch his legs a while.
When it started to rain, Iwasn’tall that surprised. Sure, it was the middle of summer, but this day was nevermeant to be easy.
“Is thatrain?” Ashley lookedup from his phone, peering out at the road.
“Unless it’s a really bigsprinkler,” I said, so relieved at hearing himsay somethingthat I couldn’t stop myselfmaking the joke.
He snorted, and it was thebest sound I’dheard all day.
“Raining in July,” he said. “InCalifornia.”
I shrugged. “Happens, Iguess.”
The thought that the sky wascrying for him was a stupid one, but that didn’t stop it passing throughmy brain. I’d never pretended to be anything other than stupid.
A roll of thunder in thedistance made us both glance over in time to see a fork of lightning on thehorizon.
“Moving in fast,” I said.
“How do you know?”
