“Did you get a map?” The words stuck thick in her throat.
He continued forward, as if unfazed by her question. “Don’t need one. The trail goes around the lake, looping back to the lodge.”
“I know it’s against man code to carry a map, but maybe we should turn back and get one before we get too far on the trail.” Her big toe snagged on a jagged stone, scuffing the skin so a drop of blood pooled at the nail. It began to throb.
Head down, she scanned the ground to avoid rocks. When he stopped two steps ahead, she stumbled into him. He reached to steady her, his expression cold.
“Right, we don’t need a map.” She gripped the soles of her shoes with her toes to keep herself steady.
His gaze met hers only a moment before that expression of indifference she hated so much snapped back into place. This wasn’t right at all. From the day at the gas station when her window had broken to the game ofConfessionsat the cabin, he had constantly given bits of himself to her. Now, for the first time in his presence, loneliness crept in. So afraid of sharing too much, she had rationed the information she gave him. He hadn’t been wrong when he said she dodged his questions. A lot.
She couldn’t unwind the past, but she could push herself. Trust him.
Columbine flowers sprouted along the thin, steep trail where they hiked in silence.
William marched ahead of her, and she did her best to match the pace he set. As the trail rounded across the edge of a cliff, her entire focus switched to not taking a header onto the jagged rocks. The grip of her flip-flops slipped, and she stumbled to her knees with anoof.
William helped her up. She wiped the dirt from her kneecaps.
“Will?” she asked softly.
He paused. His expression had gentled when she fell. It remained kind.
She squeezed his biceps to keep him from turning away. “I confess I like almost all the colors.” She had to do this. Give him more. Work toward a friendship. “You asked the night we playedConfessions. I didn’t answer because, well, I didn’t want to get too close. But you should know, I don’t have a go-to favorite. It depends on the day.”
He didn’t respond but didn’t move either.
“I also confess I didn’t get my first kiss until I was almost twenty years old. You asked that, too.” In the distance, a low murmur of thunder answered her confession, but nothing from William. “What else do you want to know about me?”
“Everything, Luce.”
A handful of fat raindrops splattered on the rocks around them.
She drew a breath of damp mountain air as more thunder rumbled, closer this time. She could do this.Trust him.
“M-my given name is Lucille. My parents are Berta and Graham. Before I moved to Confluence, everyone called me Lulu, but I’ve always preferred Lucy.”
Now I prefer when you call me Luce.
Those golden eagle eyes scoured her face as she spoke. She searched his right back to catch the spark of any memory. She was Lulu. He had to remember. She was ready for him to remember.
C’mon William.
His eyes remained blank. Nothing.
She blinked against the realization that she had changed so much he truly didn’t remember her. Or, perhaps, more likely she hadn’t been important enough for him to remember anything about her in the first place. She had been one of many on the production crew. His attention had been…elsewhere that entire time.
Her heart sank. The biting hope she’d held deep inside that who she had been might not matter to him corroded away to nothing. It would matter, he would only see her as who she had been—the person she’d worked so hard to blot out.
William stepped toward her. “Why are you in Confluence? Why here?”
“People aren’t nice to me, Will. I used to be such a mess. But I fixed that, and I realized the only thing I have is my career. I want to be a reporter more than anything I’ve ever wanted in the world.” She sucked in a lungful of mountain air. “I came to Confluence because the station has a reputation for letting those of us in the back have some time in the spotlight, too.”
More raindrops started to fall. Neither of them moved. She closed her eyes and pressed her fingers against them.
“Lucy…” William dropped the backpack and reached for her.
She raised a hand to him, stumbling back. “I’m so sorry. For everything today. So, so sorry. I get it. Whatever was starting between us is over.”
