The next several days pass in a blur. We huddle together, trying to process the news and make plans. Matt is a steady fixture, quietly supportive, taking on extra work at the lodge so we can focus on family matters.
It's on the third day after the news that I find myself sitting on a rock, staring out at the creek. The sun is setting, painting the sky in hues of pink and gold. Part of me registers the beauty—the way the light dances on the water, the gentle gradient of colors in the sky—but it feels distant, disconnected due to the heaviness in my chest.
“Thought I might find you here,” Matt says from behind me. He settles down beside me, our shoulders touching.
“I used to come here with my mom,” I say. “We'd sit and talk about everything and nothing. She always knew how to make me feel better.”
Matt stays silent while slipping an arm around my shoulders, his calm touch grounding me. I lean into him, letting his quiet strength ease the turmoil inside me.
“I don't know how to do this,” I confess after a long moment. “How to be happy about us.” I pull out my phone and show him the news. “About passing my exam when everything else is falling apart.”
Matt is quiet, his thumb tracing circles on my arm. “You know,” he says, “I think that's what your mom wants. For you to find joy where you can.”
I turn to look at him, struck by the sincerity in his eyes. “You think so?”
“I do.”
“I'm terrified,” I whisper, voicing the fear that's been gnawing at me. “What if I'm not strong enough for this?”
Matt turns to face me, taking both my hands in his, his eyes locking onto mine. “Eliza, listen to me.” His voice is steady, but there's a fierceness in his tone that draws my attention. “You are the strongest person I know. You've faced an avalanche, helped rebuild this lodge, passed your exam—all of it while dealing with everything else.”
I let out a soft breath, a small laugh escaping me. “How do you always know what to say?”
He smiles, a hint of his usual humor returning. “Lucky, I guess.”
We watch the rays of sunlight fade behind the mountains. As the first stars emerge, a feeling of calm settles over me. The air grows cooler, and I shiver slightly.
Matt notices and wraps an arm around my shoulders. “Ready to head back?” he asks.
I nod, suddenly aware of how tired I am. We stand, brushing off our clothes, and begin the walk back inside. The cabin is cozy and inviting. We go through our evening routine quietly, the day's events settling around us. As we climb into bed, Matt pulls me close, and I feel safe in his embrace.
Lying in the darkness, I'm struck by life's contradictions—how joy and sorrow can coexist, how love blooms in dark moments, and how the present offers comfort even when the future is uncertain.
As I drift off to sleep, I hold onto these thoughts, Matt's steady heartbeat and the distant forest sounds lulling me into a peaceful slumber.
My final thought before sleep claims me is of my mother. I see her, hear her laugh, and feel her hugs. And I make a silent vow—to live, to love with all my heart, and to never stop chasing my dreams. For her, for Matt, for me. No matter what comes next, I know I'm strong enough to face it. Because I'm a Hollister, and Hollisters don't give up. We fight. We love. We endure.
