Chapter 18
A hawk soared above the lake.
Lauren adjusted the tripod legs, pressing them into the damp earth with the heel of her hand. There was a slight mist over the still surface of the water. While it was daylight, the sun had yet to come over the ridge.
She wore a yellow sundress beneath a soft gray sweater. Keeping her knees tucked beneath her as she crouched on the ground, she frowned. The color of her dress contradicted her mood, but she wore it in case she stepped into any pictures.
Her followers wanted Lauren Holt, the plus-size girl who wore sundresses.
They had never seen her in a pair of leggings, shorts, or jeans.
Right now, she'd go for a pair of joggers and a hoodie. She was cold, not just from the air, but from the ache that had settled in her chest and refused to leave since Mac had kissed her on the head and left without another word.
Next week, she'd be back in her apartment. No more waking up with a chill in the cabin, and fresh mountain air all around her. No more sticky pitch on her fingers from carrying firewood into the cabin. No more silence so deep it made her feel like she was part of something majestic.
Her stomach growled. She missed real food.
First thing she would order was Chinese takeout.
She sighed. Hot dumplings, sticky noodles, something that didn't come in a plastic wrapper or a ziplock bag sounded so good right now.
She was tired of peanut butter sandwiches and snack food.
The just-add-water meals the sporting goods store employee told her were as good as the real thing were, in fact, not as good as the real thing.
She missed her life, her parents, and talking to Sonja. God, what she wouldn't give for an hour of cell service. She could connect with everyone and look at all her social media accounts.
She wondered how many followers had unfollowed her.
Had she dipped below a million followers?
She'd scheduled posts for the entire month, curated captions, and filtered images at specific times when she knew her followers were most active to prevent her engagement from dropping too low.
To everyone else, she was still online, still smiling, still reading their comments.
But she hadn't had access to any of her social media accounts since she began her trip up the mountain.
She hugged her middle, trying to keep warm and hold herself together.
Mac had told her everything she needed to know yesterday. His relationship with Tara had been nothing. Just sex, just circumstance, just a moment. And even with a child between them, it didn't work. If a child couldn't hold him, what chance did she have?
He blamed the differences between himself and Jetter's mom for not having a relationship. But they had a child in common.
Personality-wise, Lauren was the opposite of Mac. He was grumpy and serious. She was a glass-half-full kind of girl. And, yes, she loved attention.
She lived in the spotlight. She was judged, admired, condemned, and sometimes humiliated online. But she made a living by being vulnerable. She traveled. She built something from nothing.
Mac lived on the mountain. He didn't have to chase after his happily ever after because he'd found his slice of heaven. He didn't perform because he preferred the wilderness to people. He didn't need more than what the trees gave him.
She couldn't imagine what he did when the campground closed. Avaline had said the snow could reach five or six feet high. The lake froze solid by mid-November, and Mac and his cousins rode snowmobiles across the ice. The only way off the mountain during the winter was by snowmobile.
It sounded like another world. A snow globe with no escape. But magical because it was something she had never experienced.
She blinked back the sting in her eyes and reached for her camera, adjusting the lens, trying to focus on something else. Anything else.
A hand landed on her shoulder. She startled and looked behind her.
Mac appeared silently beside her, crouching low, one finger pressed to his lips. His other hand pointed toward the edge of the lake.
Lauren followed his gesture.
Twenty feet away, a moose stepped from the trees, her legs long and graceful, her coat dark and glistening. Two baby moose calves, followed closely behind, wobbled slightly, their ears twitching.
Lauren double checked that she still had her camera on and held her breath.
The moose moved into the water, slow and deliberate, the ripples spreading like a ribbon in the wind. The babies followed, paddling beside her, their small bodies bobbing with each step.
They swam right past her hidden spot.
She watched without blinking, her heart thudding, her breath caught somewhere between awe and ache. Out of all the wildlife she'd seen on the mountain since coming here, the moose were her favorite. They were absolutely adorable in a goofy, yet endearing, kind of way.
Mac stayed beside her, silently observing.
And for a moment, the world paused for them.
The moose had long disappeared out of view. The ripples on the lake faded back into stillness. Lauren shut off her camera, her fingers stiff from the cold, her heart heavier than she wanted to admit.
Mac still crouched beside her, watching as she dismantled the tripod. She glanced at him, waiting for him to say something. Had he come down to only see the moose?
She stood slowly, brushing dirt from her dress, pressing a hand to her stomach. "I should go," she said, voice quiet.
Mac looked up, his eyes unreadable. "You don't have to."
She hesitated. "I think I do."
When she turned to walk away, he reached out and gently caught her wrist.
She froze.
He didn't say anything. Just held her there, his grip light but firm, like he wasn't ready to let her go but couldn't find the words to ask her to stay.
Lauren turned back, her throat tight. "You don't have to say anything," she said. "I get it."
Mac's jaw flexed. He let go of her wrist.
She took a breath, then another, and let it all spill out.
"I really enjoyed spending time with you." Her voice trembled. "I didn't expect ever to meet someone like you. I didn't come to the campground looking for anything but an interesting media project I could share with others. But you and this place turned out to be more special to me."
Mac looked away. She blinked extra-long, taking the tears that wanted to fall and keeping them to herself.
"I'll be leaving soon." She picked up her bag. "Back to my apartment. Back to my life. And I'll miss this. I'll miss the lake. I'll miss Jetter. I'll miss you."
Still, nothing. He wasn't going to give her even a piece of himself.
Lauren swallowed hard. "I know we're different.
I know I live in a world you don't want to be part of.
And maybe you're right. Maybe the differences make any relationship between two opposites impossible.
But I needed you to know that the time I spent with you meant something to me. It wasn't just sex."
Mac looked at her, eyes dark, face unreadable.
She waited.
He didn't move.
Didn't speak.
Didn't reach for her.
Lauren nodded, blinking fast. "Okay."
She turned and walked away, her steps slow, her chest aching.
He didn't follow.
She didn't look back.
It was a breakup of sorts. A goodbye. Maybe even a thank you, because what more could she say?
When she reached her cabin, she closed the door behind her and let herself feel everything she hadn't wanted to feel.