Chapter 89
Tilda
“I’m fine.”
Ethan reaches for my boots, and I swat his hands away.
He grumbles as he stands, “Fine. But you will tell me if anything starts to hurt.”
I salute him, just to be annoying. “Sir, yes, sir.”
Ethan doesn’t react. And his nonreaction makes me grin.
Then I hold my hands out to him. “Help me up?”
His big hands engulf mine, and he pulls me to my feet.
Back in my dress, clean panties, and shorts, I feel like me again.
Mostly.
I did another quick washcloth bath, this time with Ethan standing ten feet away, facing the woods on mountain lion duty. My hair is begging to be washed, but that will have to wait until I’m home.
Then I dressed, sniffing everything and thinking I might have to start hanging my clothes from trees to air dry them. And now…
I look around the cabin.
Now, with everything packed back up the way we found it, we’re ready to leave.
Ethan insisted on re-treating every tiny mark on my feet and ankles. Covering everything with Band-Aids. Then giving me a new pair of his socks as another barrier between my skin and my boots.
He also tried to convince me to let him give me a piggyback ride to the extraction site. And even though I’m sure Ethan—and all his muscles—could do it, there’s no way I’m letting him carry me.
I follow Ethan out of the cabin, and while he double-checks that everything is shut tight, I take my phone out of my mini backpack and turn it on.
Ethan wasn’t happy about me carrying my own bag, but he’s done so much for me already. And I wanted my phone handy so I could take some pictures.
I snap one of the cabin. A few more.
I take a picture of the firepit, now empty of any debris. The ashes buried and mixed with dirt to ensure no flames come back to life.
I take a video of the forest, turning in a slow circle to get the full view.
I take a picture of Ethan walking toward me.
And a second.
And I’m grinning by the third, when he’s close enough to fill the whole screen.
He takes the phone from my hand, turns it around, and takes a photo of me.
I’m still smiling, and I don’t care how bad I must look. This is a memory I’m happy to keep.
“Let’s do one together.” I move so I’m standing beside him, the cabin at our backs. “To remember our honeymoon,” I say jokingly.
Ethan switches the camera so it’s facing us, puts his arm around my shoulders, pulls me into his side, and presses a kiss to the top of my head.
And that’s when he takes the picture.
When his lips are on me. And when my expression is full of… joy.
I can only describe it as joy.
Because no matter how things turn out once we’re back home, I’ll always have this moment.