Chapter 11 The Present
THE PRESENT
AMELIA
Days slipped by in a blur until the long-awaited morning of our wilderness retreat finally dawned.
Our expedition would span two full days, hugging the winding blacktops from our sleepy North Carolina town through rolling foothills, across sunlit plains, and into the soaring Rockies of Colorado.
Already, I braced myself for the cramped hours ahead: me, my perpetually chatty best friend Sabrina, her upbeat fiancé Shane, and some mysterious stranger I’d never met. Oh, the joy.
I tried to summon a spark of optimism. Maybe he’d be tall with soft eyes, maybe our conversation would flow, maybe I’d finally discover someone who saw past my walls.
But that hopeful flicker sputtered almost as soon as it appeared.
I pulled a handkerchief from my pocket and dabbed at my palms, reminding myself how foolish I was to crave acceptance, to dare imagine I might be worthy of affection. Better to resign myself to solitude. A lonely soul destined to fade away.
A hollow ache settled in my chest as I rolled my suitcase’s frayed leather handle between my fingers, its familiar scuffs reminding me of every trip I’d taken alone.
Each hesitation knotted my stomach tighter.
I inhaled, lungs trembling, and whispered into the quiet room: “Get it together, Amelia. You’re a grown woman. Act like it.”
Sabrina had promised to swing by in thirty minutes. I typed out a quick text—‘I’m ready; you can come get me now.’ Almost immediately, her response pinged back. Too quick. I had no time left to steel my nerves.
Minutes later, the door swung open with its creaky welcome, and in burst Sabrina, pure kinetic energy in a sundress, her auburn hair catching the morning light like embers. “Amelia! Are you excited? This is going to be incredible!”
She enveloped me in a hug so enthusiastic I stumbled back against the wall. I patted her shoulder awkwardly, plastered on a grin. “Yep. All packed. Let’s roll.”
With a delighted squeal she flung my suitcase toward her car parked out front, where wildflowers bowed in the breeze.
I’d traveled light—one large duffel and a small backpack—and Sabrina clucked.
“Are you sure that’s all? I feel so excessive with my two stuffed trunks.
” She shook her head in mock dismay. “You’re so efficient, Amelia. ”
If only she knew how empty I felt beneath my poise. I fluttered my eyelids and offered half a smile. “I’ve got everything I need.” The lie felt heavy on my tongue.
She laughed, slid behind the wheel, and cranked up the stereo. Melodic country tunes poured through the speakers as I eased into the passenger seat, keys jangling in Sabrina’s hand.
The engine roared to life, and we tore off, the car lurching forward like a roller-coaster plunging into adventure I wasn’t sure I wanted.
When we finally pulled into Sabrina and Shane’s sunlit suburban cul-de-sac, my heart pounded. I sat frozen, gripping the door handle. Sabrina glanced over. “You coming?” Her tone was all cheer.
I managed a shaky nod. “Just… nerves.” My fingers drummed a staccato on the vinyl seat.
“Relax, Amelia. Deep breaths. And hey, Shane’s brother’s there, too. He’s kind of… cute.” She winked, genuine excitement sparkling in her eyes.
I forced a nonchalant shrug. “Great. Can’t wait.”
She bounded from the car, her dress swirling, and I followed with my baggage. Inside, their front hall glowed with gentle lamplight. Hardwood floors gleamed beneath an ornate console table, and fresh lilac blooms perfumed the air.
My own home sprang to mind. Bare walls, forgotten postcards, shadows pooling in the corners. My heart sank at the contrast.
“In here, Amelia!” Sabrina called from the living room, voice buoyant. I squinted against the midday glare filtering through tall windows. Dust motes danced in the shafts of light, painting the room in gold.
Sabrina leaned against Shane’s broad shoulder, their laughter blending like cherished music.
Opposite them sat a solitary man in a leather armchair, his posture stiff, eyes wide as he stared at me.
In that instant, my world constricted. My pulse thundered in my ears, breath turned to ice in my lungs, and the back of my neck prickled with remembered dread.
There, framed by soft sunlight, was Caiden Baxter. Tall and familiar, every memory of him rushing back like a tidal wave.
My heart stumbled and faltered.
My voice died in my throat. I stood paralyzed, the past colliding violently with the present, unable to tear my gaze away from the one face I never wanted to see again.