Which I do, to surprising success—
Until we get to the switchbacks.
There aretwenty-sixof them, Thorn tells us.
They’re not all that long—the total length adds up to just under a mile—and when we finish, we’ll be at the top.
I cannot overstate just how different it is tobehere, starting theseventh and final mile of climbing this mountain, versus merely reading about it in Henry Herrington’s guidebook. His pictures and bullet lists and hot tips didn’t do justice to any of how it actuallyfeelsto experience this place.
We haven’t even reached the summit, and I’m suddenly overcome with a wave of emotion.
My relationship with Caden ended because he thought I was toomuch—but it also ended because he thought I was toolittle. He had zero faith that I could do any of this.
Caden laughed at me, treated me like a joke.
Abby tried to talk me out of it.
And deep down, I’m not sureItruly thought I had it in me.
But I’m here. I’m terrified, but I’m doing it.
I’vebeendoing it.
Now I just have to finish.
Spoiler alert: switchbacks don’t get any easier just because you’ve conquered five, then ten, then enough to lose count.
They also don’t get easier just because you’re more determined than before.
We’ve comesofar—we’re close enough to see the top, and I’m finally brave enough to look out into the distance beyond it—but it’s challenging in every sense of the word just to keep going, one step at a time, until it’s done.
The instant I set foot at the top, my eyes fill with tears.
I’m laughing, I’m crying—I’melated, so light on my feet and surrounded by such a surreal, foreign view that I suddenly feel like I’m on another planet altogether, one with a strange sense of gravity.
But no: this isourworld.
This is every forest and meadow and lake and waterfall and boulder we’ve met along the way, so far beneath us it’s hard to believe they’re really down there.
I’m still looking,marveling, when I feel his fingers intertwine with mine.
I turn, and there’s Thorn, eyes as ice-blue as any alpine lake. I could look at them forever—
But then his mouth is on mine, and we’re kissing on top of a mountain, on top of theworld, and I take it back:thisis what I could do forever. He’s a furnace, warming me up against the chilly breeze; he’s a soft place to land, asafeplace to land.
I kiss him like we’re running out of time.
Hot tears streak down my cheeks, and I’m certain he can taste them at this point, but neither of us pulls away.
If this is all the time we ever have together—if we never even see each other again, a thought I do my best to shove down—he’s changed my life just by seeing me so clearly at the exact moment I most needed to be seen.
“Thank you,” I say when we finally pull away. It comes out as a whisper.
He brushes my tears away, grins.
“That was all you, Sadie Whitlock. Youdidthis.” His grin becomes a full-blown smile, beautifully bright.
“How are you still standing right now after hiking until two in the morning and only getting four hours of sleep?” I ask, laughing.
