8. His Sinner
I step outside, the morning air sharp and clean, carrying that familiar pine scent I’ve come to crave. It hits me in waves, the crispness of the forest that surrounds my cabin, bringing with it a bittersweet ache I’ve never managed to shake.
I glance back at the place I’ve called home for four years now, small and isolated, tucked away where no one can find me unless they know where to look. I never went to the beach like Dominic begged me to, never saw the open waves stretching out into forever.
After everything… After I came back and couldn’t find him, I couldn’t bear the thought of going somewhere I dreamt of. Instead, I ended up here. Same city, but far from the life I once thought I’d have and all those dreams I’d clung to.
I confined myself to a cabin in the woods—something he wanted for himself.
The law degree? Abandoned. The life of order and justice? I’d walked away from it all the day I escaped, the day I led the police back to that place in the woods.
Dominic was gone, and the only thing he left behind were bloodstains.
I can still remember the officer’s face as he looked at me, pity mixed with the faint disbelief they all carried when I mentioned Dominic’s name, his bravery, the way he’d tried to save me. They called him a ghost, the man who existed only in my memories.
But I know he was real.
I shake off the thought and climb onto my bike, the engine rumbling to life beneath me as I pull on my helmet. There’s something about the open road, the way the wind cuts around me, that’s grounding, even if it’s a far cry from what I once imagined for myself.
Pine needles and motor oil—it’s him, all of it, tangled up in memories that refuse to fade. Dominic’s scent, embedded in every breath I take out here, as if he never left my side.
I ease the bike down the gravel path, taking in the forest around me, and for a split second, I could swear he’s here, just a shadow in the trees. Watching, waiting, like he always did in that cell; reminding me to be strong, to keep going.
I make my way down the winding road that leads to the city, my grip on the handlebars tight, the hum of the bike a comforting constant. My mind wanders as the miles pass, back to those nights when I’d sit alone in the cabin, waiting for sleep that never came, haunted by dreams of him.
Sometimes, I’d see him in those dreams, his face bruised and bloodied, but his eyes warm, that small, crooked smile still there. I’d wake up in the dark, the emptiness of the cabin pressing down on me, and wonder if he was still out there somewhere, wondering if I’d broken my promise to him.
It gets worse this time of the year… when the anniversary of my escape approaches.
I reach the city limits, the tall buildings looming against the sky, and pull into a quiet lot, parking my bike and removing my helmet. The city hasn’t changed much, still noisy, still bustling, but it feels foreign to me now, like I’m just passing through.
I check my watch, realizing I’m early, and lean back against the bike, letting my gaze drift to the skyline. I left so much behind when I left here. My friends, my family, my life as it was. But none of it seemed to matter after that night, after I failed to find Dominic and bring him home.
“Aria!”
I glance up, pulling myself out of my thoughts. Mason, my fiancé, jogs up, his usual bright smile warming his face as he reaches for my hand, squeezing it gently.
He’s good to me. Steady and solid in a way that makes the ground beneath my feet feel stable. Even if there’s a part of me that always feels like it’s somewhere else; trapped in a memory I can’t quite let go of. We don’t live together, partially because I like my space, but more because it feels… wrong.
“Ready for another day of chasing leads?” he asks, a hint of humor in his tone, even though he knows how serious I am about my work. It’s not exactly the law enforcement path he hoped I’d stick with, but he respects it, even if he doesn’t understand the pull.
I smile, though it’s more habit than anything else. “As ready as I’ll ever be.”
Mason wraps an arm around my shoulders, steering me toward the building where I’ve rented a tiny, barely-there office to meet clients. It’s not much, but it lets me keep tabs on the city, handle cases in a way that’s different from the black-and-white rulebook I once thought I’d follow.
Missing persons, families left behind, names that have fallen through the cracks. That’s where I focus now. The ones no one else is looking for.
“You okay?” Mason’s voice is soft, and I feel his hand squeeze my shoulder gently.
I nod, shrugging off the ghosts clinging to my mind. “Yeah. Just thinking. You know how it is.”
His smile falters, and for a second, he just looks at me, like he’s waiting for me to say something. But I don’t, and he doesn’t push. He never does.
Maybe that’s why I said yes when he proposed last year, even though a part of me felt like I was leaving something behind, something I could never fully explain to him. I know he realizes I get worse this time of the year, and I am thankful that even though I get distant, he still doesn’t push me.
As we reach my office, Mason pulls me into a quick hug, his voice soft in my ear. “I’ll see you tonight?”
“Yeah,” I murmur, managing a faint smile as I pull back. “I’ll be at the cabin around seven.”
He nods, giving me one last reassuring look before he heads off to the hospital, leaving me standing outside the door. I slip inside, the small space barely more than a desk and a couple of chairs, but it’s enough. I drop my bag on the desk and sit down, flipping open my laptop to check for any new leads on cases I’m working on.
But as I settle in, a strange feeling washes over me, a sensation I can’t quite place. The scent of pine lingers faintly in the air, a remnant of the forest I’d driven through, but it feels different now. Stronger. Almost like he’s here, close enough to touch.
I close my eyes, letting the scent surround me, imagining him standing there, his rough, teasing voice echoing in my mind.
Until you break.
The thought sends a shiver through me, and I open my eyes, feeling that familiar ache rise up again, sharper than usual. He’s everywhere in this city, in the memories I’ve buried and the life I never got to have.
I close my laptop, giving up on work for the moment, and lean back in my chair, letting my gaze drift to the window.
For years, I’ve carried him with me, every step, every decision I’ve made shaped by the time we spent in that cell. It’s like I left a part of myself behind with him, a part I know I’ll never get back.
And no matter how much I try to move forward, to build something new with Mason, I can’t shake the feeling that I lost something essential in those dark, cold walls.