Page 52 of When The Mountains Held Us

“I’ll bring these out to the truck,” Justin declares as he loads both arms up with the mismatched bags.

I dump the few items I have into an empty bag.

“Got everything you need?” Levi’s question is a simple check-in, but the true question lies in the lines of concern etched deep into his forehead. Are you okay?

I force a smile on my face. “I’m ready.”

He nods, taking the bag from me and ushering me to the door.

My own words aren’t lost on me. For the first time in what feels like forever, I can say that I am fully ready to fight back for the life I’m worthy of. And maybe it took the man standing at my back to remind me of what I truly deserve, but this fight brewing within me is something entirely of my own. If anything, seeing that perfume bottle did the exact opposite of what Travis was trying to accomplish. I’m sure he expected it to have me crawling back to him with my own words of apology for my shortcomings—for running—but he has taken far too much from me already. I refuse to allow him to take anything else.

His fucking gesture only serves to stoke the fire within me until it’s a raging inferno, hell-bent on eating up the oxygen he still breathes until it suffocates and chokes the life out of him. I welcome the promise of his utter ruin with open arms.

With my chin held high, I grab the rustic sign off the wall before walking through the door and out into the open air.

I don’t allow myself a single glance back at the shell of myself I’m leaving within those walls. Instead, each step I take serves as a testament to my own personal metamorphosis.

Twenty-Seven

Oakley

The next few weeks pass with little fanfare as I slowly adjust to my new living arrangement. It took a few days to fully settle in, and even longer to stop tiptoeing around the house—something Levi demanded of me the third time I uttered, “Sorry,” in the span of thirty seconds when we both found ourselves in the kitchen a week after I’d moved in.

“Would you quit apologizing, already?!” Levi had said sharply, no malice in his tone.

I’d blushed at his quip, and he’d looked immediately apologetic, and said as much, which had us both devolving into laughter in the middle of the kitchen.

“You have no reason to apologize. I want you here. I like having you here. Please remember that,” Levi had said once we’d finally calmed down enough from our laughing fit.

It’s taken some time to retrain my brain to remember that I don’t have any obligation to apologize for taking up space. Levi has been more than welcoming, constantly reassuring me that I can make myself at home and that he’s happy to have me here.

Sometimes, it’s a little overbearing, but in the best way possible, and he somehow has a way of knowing when he’s being a little over the top. It’s like he’s zeroed in on my mannerisms already, understanding my silent tells and the looks I give him, better than I understand them myself.

Slowly, I’m learning to breathe a little easier.

Memories of my time with Travis still visit in the form of nightmares weekly, and even more often if I’ve had a particularly stressful night at work. I’m working through it, though, learning to give myself the space I need to heal, while also giving myself a good kick in the ass when I need it.

I haven’t heard from or seen him since he broke into the motel room, and though I know it’s foolish to think so, a part of me hopes that he cut his losses and left town. I still keep an eye open whenever I’m out and about, though, even going so far as to carry the pepper spray Levi bought me, not long after I officially moved in, with me everywhere I go.

With the end of summer came the end of the scorching heat during the day, and, though the sun still shines, the air is lighter, with a sharp bite to it that has me donning a sweatshirt or light jacket every time I leave the house.

The leaves have shifted too, the color change coming a few weeks earlier than I’m used to, due to being farther north, but it’s a change I’m welcoming. Summer in the mountains was unlike anything I’ve ever experienced, but in truth, autumn has my heart. The reprieve from the heat is a welcome change, and there’s something about being able to burrow down into an oversized sweatshirt that brings me a renewed sense of comfort and peace.

I’ve continued hiking during the days before work, sometimes with Jessie or Levi, but oftentimes it’s just me and Bandit. My furry companion was a nonnegotiable with Levi when I told him I wanted to explore more of the mountains, but I would have taken him either way. Another nonnegotiable was being sure to text him when I leave the house, and again when I make it back to my car after the hike. It feels good to have someone care so much about me. I want to believe it's because he cares for me and not just my safety, but I can’t be sure.

The mountains are beautiful in the summer, but that view doesn’t even hold a light to the multitude of vibrant oranges and yellows and deep reds and greens that seem to undulate in waves over the landscape when I reach the top. It’s a view I know I’ll never tire of seeing as long as I live.

I’ve jumped at every opportunity to revisit the swimming hole with Jessie, though the water is far too cold for even my newfound bravery to endure. Sitting and watching the water stream down the rocks brings the peace I’d been searching for, and each time I visit, I seem to get something a little different out of the experience.

Mostly, I frequent the trail behind Levi’s house with Bandit as my trusty sidekick. With Levi and Jessie working during the day, I’m often on my own. It took some getting used to, but it’s something I’ve come to love and enjoy. With only Bandit as my companion, there are no expectations of me, good or bad, and I make it my mission to embrace the quiet moments.

But it doesn’t change the fact that I’ve found myself missing Levi’s company during my time alone. There’s an easy way about him. Something that was always there between us has somehow bloomed into something more in my time since moving in with him.

On nights I don’t work, I find myself curled up on the couch next to him with my Kindle while he mindlessly watches something on TV, both of us content in the silence and enjoying the quiet presence of the other without the weighted expectation of conversation. That’s not to say we don’t talk, but our conversations have been nothing but friendly in nature. Though, at times, I can feel the tension of the words we don’t say hanging in the air between us like a thick fog.

The feeling is suffocating, in the best way possible, and only develops further through the heated glances I catch him giving me at random moments. They remind me of how close we came to giving in to each other under the waterfall that day.

I can’t deny that I long for more, though, what exactly that entails, I’m not sure. I’m not immune to the dreams that still plague me some nights, the ones that leave me sweating and breathless when I wake, left with the lingering image of his emerald eyes and wild with longing.