Chapter Sixty-Eight Ella
Chapter Sixty-Eight
Ella
The sun hangs low on the edge of the horizon, as if it can’t decide whether to rise or disappear. The sky is washed in pale gold and soft pink, the kind of colors that usually make me pull out my phone and take pictures.
Today I just stare.
The Alaskan scenery rolls past the windshield in a quiet blur, frosted trees and snow-dusted shoulders, the road cutting through it like a thin, stubborn line.
It is beautiful. I know it is. I can see it.
I just can’t feel it.
Rhia is driving. Both hands on the wheel, posture steady, eyes scanning the road ahead. Her hair is tucked beneath a beanie, but a few stubborn red strands have escaped and catch the light when she turns her head.
I keep my gaze fixed on the passing scenery, as if it can hold me together.
My limbs feel heavy, and my stomach turns every time the car dips or sways. I can’t tell if the nausea is from the road or from today’s memories.
It’s truly been the worst day of my life.
At least I’m not alone.
That thought is the closest thing to comfort I have.
Rhia reaches over and turns the heat up another notch. The vents push warm air across my knees.
“Don’t fall asleep,” she says, not looking at me. “We’re nearly there.”
I swallow. “I wasn’t going to.”
She hums, clearly unconvinced.
“Good. Because I need you to tell me which way to go for this last bit.”
Without looking, she taps the map and instructions in my lap.
“Are you sure you want to rely on me?”
Rhia smirks.
“There’s only ever one road to choose, and the directions we’ve been given are clear. Turn left or turn right. You can do this,” she teases.
I roll my eyes at her, more out of habit than actual annoyance. That would require feeling, and I’m avoiding that at all costs.
The silence stretches for a few miles, only the hum of the engine and the soft crunch of tires on gravel and snow filling the space between us.
“Turn left here,” I instruct at the next fork in the road.
For good measure, I also point. Who knows if the right words are coming out in my state of tiredness.
The road winds deeper into the wilderness, spruce and fir trees rising like dark walls on either side. The mountains draw closer, their peaks dusted with snow and painted in sunset hues. Orange. Pink. Gold. Like the sky is trying to soften the edges of the world.
If I were here with Tiero, it would feel like a dream.
A hideaway.
A place where nobody could reach us.
Alone time we haven’t had since we got back together. And now we’ll never have it.
Everything is covered in a thick blanket of snow already. Winter will be brutal out here.
But then I’m already dead, officially.
Ella Rose O’Neil no longer exists.
She died in a car bomb explosion this morning, along with her best friend.
Now I’m Elizabeth Grace. And Rhia is Rina Walsh.
I hate those names.
Not because there is anything wrong with them. They’re perfectly normal, perfectly safe, perfectly forgettable.
But it’s not mine. Or Rhia’s.
Rhia adjusts the rearview mirror and glances at me again.
“Everything will be alright,” she says.
I blink, startled. “You sound like Claudette.”
“Maybe she has a point,” she replies.
I shift in my seat, pulling the scarf tighter around my neck. The air outside looks sharp, like it would bite straight through skin. The sun sinks lower, and the temperature drops with it. Even inside the car, the cold presses in at the edges.
“Isn’t everything always alright in the end?” I ponder.
I don’t want it to be, because it would mean I moved on. And how could I?
“After my parents’ death, I clung to my grief for far too long. I can see that now, and I don’t want to go down that path of misery again. But moving on just like that feels like a betrayal of Tiero.”
My fingers fold into fists, my nails digging into my skin painfully.
“I’ll give birth to our baby without him, and I’ll try my damn hardest to give her a good life, raise her with love just like my parents did. And I’ll have moments of joy watching her grow up. And as life drags on, new people will come and go, and I’ll forget him more and more.”
My hands, still in fists, are shaking now. I press my left arm, the one in the splint and sling, harder against my chest, a tight, burning pressure spreading until it hurts to inhale.
“You could never forget Tiero. Peanut won’t let you. No matter what, Tiero is in your heart. Always.”
Rhia reaches across the console to squeeze my leg, avoiding my injured arm.
“Tiero would want you to be happy. No matter what.”
I don’t reply. I can’t.
My eyes drift down, and my stomach plummets when I see it.
My engagement ring.
I forgot I was wearing it.
I stare at it.
Moisture pools behind my eyelids uninvited.
The sapphire sits heavy against my skin, the metal cool despite the heat pumping through the car.
I twist it once. Then again.
We were engaged for all of two days.
Suddenly, a wave of anger erupts inside me, so fierce it’s like a match dropped into gasoline, fast and impossible to contain.
Fuck you, universe. Fuck you.
How dare you dangle happiness in front of me, only to take it away two days later?
I yank the ring off and bring it to eye level.
I feel Rhia glancing at me, probably wondering what’s happening.
The temptation to roll down the window and toss it outside is strong. Let it disappear into the snow and trees and distance, just like my happiness has.
“He left me,” I mutter.
He left me when he promised me a life together.
The thought is ugly and unfair, and I hate myself for it even as it lands.
“He hasn’t,” Rhia insists. “He…”
But I don’t hear her. I keep staring at the ring between my fingers.
His mother’s. Passed down from generation to generation.
My palm closes over it, pressing it against my skin like I can anchor it there.
This is the only thing of his I can give our daughter.
My vision blurs, and this time I don’t fight it as hard.
I turn my face toward the window and let the tears fall silently, counting the seconds between breaths until the urge to shatter passes.
Rhia notices anyway, but she says nothing, and for now, just lets me be.
The gravel road narrows further, climbing into the woods. The car’s engine hums louder on the incline.
I check the map one more time. “The house should be around the next bend.”
“That’s if you led us the right way.” Rhia winks. “But you know, I’m always up for an adventure.”
The road curves, then straightens into a small clearing.
And there it is.
A couple of cabins.
Wooden exteriors, sturdy and weathered, tucked into the trees like they’ve always belonged there.
There are no neighbors in sight, no lights beyond the warm glow in the front window of one of the cabins. Smoke curls steadily from the chimney.
Someone has prepared it. Freemont really doesn’t do half-measures.
Rhia slows as we approach, her gaze scanning the area. She pulls up in front of the steps. For a moment, neither of us moves.
I stare at the cabin as if it’s a stranger, like it’s about to decide whether it will shelter me or swallow me whole.
This is going to be my home for the foreseeable future. Maybe even where I’ll give birth to Peanut.
The thought is surreal.
And all of it will happen without Tiero. My chest relentlessly aches. I inhale small, controlled breaths, as if too much air will invite grief in.
Rhia reaches over and squeezes my arm.
“We did it,” she says softly. “You and Peanut are safe now.”
I blink, trying not to dissolve into tears again.
Rhia shifts in her seat, watching me closely.
“Hey,” she murmurs. “Are you with me?”
I nod once.
“Good. Then let’s go.”
We climb out of the car.
I can do this.
The cold hits me immediately. My breath turns visible the second it leaves my mouth, pale plumes in the air. The scent of the outdoors is sharp too, pine and snow and something earthy beneath it, like frozen leaves.
I pull my scarf higher.
Rhia rounds the car and takes my hand, squeezing it. She’s been marvelous today. Calm, collected, holding it together for me.
Yet now, her gaze seems a little uncertain. I don’t press her, though, only focusing on getting inside where it’s warm.
We turn toward the house and climb the steps together.
My hand rises toward the door, fingers stiff, heart thudding hard.
This is it.
This is my new life.
My palm lands on the doorknob. Before I can turn it, the door flies open.
The sudden movement is so fast that my entire body reacts before my mind does. I jerk back with a strangled sound, pressing the hand of my injured arm harder against my chest, while the other covers my stomach.
A dark silhouette steps into the dim light with arms outstretched in welcome.
My vision tunnels, my heart speeding up.
How?