Chapter 17
17
L ila pulled her coat tighter around her as she climbed the familiar path, her boots crunching softly over the dusting of snow that had settled overnight. The air was crisp, the kind that burned her lungs just enough to remind her she was alive, that she was still here. The trees stood tall and silent, their bare branches reaching toward a pale winter sky streaked with the last traces of sunrise.
It had been too long since she’d made this trek, too long since she’d come to talk to Aaron.
At the top, she found her usual spot—a flat rock that overlooked the valley, the town of Thunder Mountain nestled in the distance. She exhaled, watching the vapor of her breath disappear into the cold air.
“Hey, you,” she said softly, brushing away a thin layer of snow before sitting down. “Sorry I haven’t been by in a while. Life just…got away from me.”
Lila pulled the knit cap from her head. “Between the long hours at the clinic and adjusting to the new partnership with Whit, the days blurred together. It wasn’t easy at first—I’d expected to take over the clinic myself, not share it with a man who rode in from Texas with his confident swagger and big ideas.”
She twisted a lock of hair. “But over time, we’ve found a rhythm. He challenges me, but he also respects my knowledge and dedication. And despite my best efforts to keep our relationship professional, a deeper friendship formed between us.”
She let the wind carry the silence between them, as if waiting for a response. Her hands curled around her knees, and she let herself imagine for just a moment that Aaron was sitting beside her, the way he used to, their shoulders touching.
“You’d like him, you know,” she said, smiling to herself. “Whit Calloway. He’s stubborn. Drives me nuts sometimes. Thinks he knows everything. But he’s got a good heart, Aaron. And he keeps showing up for me, even when I push him away.” She swallowed, feeling the lump rise in her throat. “I think I love him. It’s different from the love we shared, but it’s there.”
The admission hung in the air, both terrifying and freeing. She had loved once before, with everything she had, and that love had been stolen from her. Allowing herself to feel it again—well, that was still the scariest thing of all.
But that wasn’t why she was here.
Lila looked down, her fingers tracing the frost-covered edges of the rock. “That’s not why I came up to talk.” She drew in a deep breath, steadying herself. “Aaron, Camille’s pregnant.”
Saying it out loud made it even more real. She blinked hard against the sting of tears, shaking her head. “I never saw this coming. One minute, she’s packing for college, planning her future. The next…she’s looking at me with those wide, scared eyes, telling me she’s having a baby.”
She let out a shaky laugh, pressing her fingers against her forehead. “She’s strong, Aaron. You’d be proud of her. She’s got a plan—says she’ll take classes online, finish her degree that way. But I know what she’s giving up.” Lila sighed, her heart aching. “She won’t have the late-night study groups, the rush of walking across campus, the friendships that come from dorm life, the silly midnight runs for coffee and pizza.” Her chest tightened. “She’s trading all of that for diapers and sleepless nights.” She paused. “Somehow, I always wanted her life to be different from mine.”
The wind whistled through the trees, and she shivered, but she didn’t move. “I know she’ll be okay. I know we’ll figure this out. Life seldom goes as planned—I’ve learned that the hard way. I thought I’d never survive losing you. But I did. And now…I’ve found someone else to love.” She glanced toward the sky. “Camille and I can survive this, too.”
She let the weight of what lay ahead settle inside her, clasping her hands together as if in prayer. “Aaron,” she murmured, her voice barely above a whisper, “I don’t know how much pull you have with the guy upstairs, but if you do…you might ask Him to watch over our Camille.”
A sharp gust of wind rushed through the trees, rustling the branches like a whispered answer. Lila closed her eyes, willing her silent message to her late husband upward.
Then, slowly, she rose to her feet, brushing the snow from her jeans. One step at a time, she made her way down the path, back to the life that was still waiting for her. Back to Camille. Back to Whit.
And back to whatever came next.