Chapter 15 #2
The tension cracked. The fear eased. And for the first time since the rotors had lifted them off the ground, the mood inside the little helicopter was light again.
The helicopter shuddered as it set down on a flat plateau rimmed with scrub and low brush, the rotors whining as they powered down. Maggie could’ve kissed the ground… if Danica hadn’t beaten her to it in her own way.
The second the door opened, Danica bolted out, wobbling across the gravel until she found a sad-looking desert plant. She dropped to her knees and promptly threw up into it.
“Oh, Jesus,” Maggie muttered, grimacing as she unbuckled.
Pete followed right on her heels, sweeping Danica’s hair back in one practiced motion, grinning like this was the best part of the tour. She threw a big thumbs-up over her shoulder. “It’s just like Telluride!”
Maggie barked a laugh despite herself, because of course she remembered. Danica, motion sick after a mountain drive, had greeted them by throwing up in Aunt Jade’s porch plants on their first college reunion trip.
“Don’t remind me,” Danica croaked, her voice weak but full of misery.
Kiera, looking stricken but efficient, crouched beside them and pulled a travel toothbrush and a mini bottle of mouthwash from her bottomless bag. She pressed them gently into Danica’s shaking hands. “Here. These help.”
Danica stared at them like Kiera had produced a diamond tiara. Her face crumpled again, tears springing fresh. “You’re — oh my god — you’re so nice.” She sobbed while Pete poured mouthwash on the toothbrush.
The sight was so ridiculous that Maggie doubled over laughing, clutching her stomach, the sound sharp and helpless. Even Lillian cracked up, elegant but genuine, covering her mouth with one hand.
Danica tried to wave them all off as she rinsed and spat, tears streaming down her face. “You don’t understand. I’m so grateful right now.”
Pete patted her back affectionately. “My delicate flower,” she announced, eyes twinkling. “Vegas tried to break her, but she lives.”
Maggie wiped at her eyes, breathless with laughter, and for the first time all morning, the knot in her chest loosened.
Eventually, Danica rallied — face pale but scrubbed fresh, clutching Pete’s hand like she might topple again at any second. The guide waved them toward the rim, cheerful and oblivious, and the group shuffled along in a loose pack, still laughing under their breath about Danica’s dramatic exit.
Maggie hung back, her legs shaky in that way they got after adrenaline — whether from fear or… other things. Gwen drifted beside her, quiet as always, their shoulders brushing once, then again, like they couldn’t quite manage distance.
And then the canyon opened up before them.
Even Maggie — who’d sworn she wouldn’t look, who had kept her eyes glued to Gwen’s steady profile in the air — couldn’t help it. She stopped dead at the edge, breath catching.
It was too much to take in. The sweep of color, red and ochre layered like history itself, shadows shifting with the sun. The river below a silver thread, so far down it looked unreal. Vast didn’t even cover it. It was bottomless, endless, alive.
For a long moment, nobody said anything. Even Pete went still, her arm looped around Danica’s waist, her usual grin slack with awe.
Maggie glanced sideways. Gwen was standing beside her, hair pulled back by the wind, eyes fixed on the horizon. The same steadiness as always, but softer here, her expression cracked open just slightly by the view.
Something in Maggie’s chest pulled tight. “Okay,” she whispered, mostly to herself. “That’s… worth it.”
Gwen didn’t look at her, but Maggie saw the faintest curve of her lips. “Told you you’d regret it if you didn’t.”
Maggie let out a breath, shaky but lighter. “Don’t get smug.”
Maggie folded her arms tight, trying to hide the shiver. The wind tugged at her hair, cool against skin that still felt overheated from adrenaline. Her voice came out softer than she meant, carried off by the canyon air. “I feel so small, like nothing matters.”
Gwen finally looked at her. Eyes steady, unblinking, as vast and unyielding as the view itself. “Or maybe everything matters, Maggie.”
The words hit harder than the height, harder than the endless drop below. Maggie turned back to the canyon fast, blinking against the sting in her eyes. The expanse stretched out forever, but it was Gwen’s voice echoing in her head — quiet, certain, impossible to shut out.
The wind whipped harder at the rim, tugging Maggie’s hair across her face. She kept her eyes fixed on the canyon, on the impossible sprawl of it, because looking at Gwen again felt too dangerous. Gwen’s words were still lodged in her chest like a splinter she couldn’t pry out.
“It kind of reminds me of Santa Fe,” Maggie said. “The colors.” She knew it was a gamble to mention their honeymoon — gambling with whose heart, she didn’t know — but she wanted to share the realization.
Her fingers itched before she even realized what she was doing. Slowly, like testing the air, she reached sideways and found Gwen’s hand. She laced their fingers together and gave a small, quick squeeze. Not much. Barely anything. But enough.
Gwen didn’t pull away. She didn’t squeeze back either, not exactly. She just let Maggie’s hand settle there, warm and steady in hers, as if that was answer enough.
Maggie swallowed hard, blinking against the wind and the sting in her eyes.
For the first time all morning, the world tilted not with fear, but with the unbearable sense that maybe she hadn’t imagined it — that maybe, even here at the edge of forever, Gwen was still hers in some unspoken way.
She wanted to stay in it… just the two of them, the silence, the ache.
“Group photo.” Pete’s voice shattered the moment, echoing across the rim like a battle cry. Maggie startled, jerking her hand free so fast she almost stumbled.
Pete came bounding over, arm raised with her phone. “Everybody, huddle up. This one’s going on the fridge.”
Danica groaned, still looking vaguely green. “I do not need evidence of this day.”
“Yes, you do,” Pete said cheerfully, dragging her forward anyway. “Posterity, babe.”
Izzy had already wrangled Kiera into place, Kiera dutifully brushing hair out of her face and trying not to laugh at the way Pete was corralling them like cattle. Lillian strolled up last, sunglasses on, radiant as always, like this was her magazine cover shoot.
“Come on!” Pete barked. “Maggie, Gwen, stop brooding over the abyss and get in here.”
Maggie rolled her eyes hard, but her cheeks were hot, and she didn’t dare look at Gwen. She shuffled into place, Pete looping an arm around her neck, pulling her in tight.
“On three,” Izzy said, her grin already wide. “One, two—”
“Grand Canyon sluts!” Maggie shouted, and the whole group cracked up, even Danica, and the sound rose bright against the endless canyon air, laughter echoing like it belonged there, as the camera shutter clicked.