Chapter Thirty #3
He resisted the urge to toss the bottle into the overgrown hedges. Just his luck, if he did, he’d be the one to step on the shards when he came over to clean up the greenery come spring.
He still set it down with force, rising to his feet and starting to pace in the limited space. “He and Mom were soulmates, Kyra.”
She pulled a face. “I thought you didn’t believe in that Heart’s Hope Crossing destiny stuff.”
“I didn’t.” He shook his head. “I don’t. It doesn’t matter.”
“I’m pretty sure it does.”
He wasn’t about to get into another does-not-does-too argument with her. Barreling on, he reminded her, “Ever since Mom died, he’s been this shell, and I can’t help thinking… I’ve always believed…”
“That it’s better to be alone?”
He looked at her helplessly, because what else was there to say?
“Oh, Hunter…”
“Don’t.” He shouldn’t have said anything. He should have kept his mouth shut, shouldn’t have kissed Emma in the first place, shouldn’t have gone to the stupid bookstore that first morning and run into her.
And yet. Would he take it back?
Not for anything.
Kyra patted the swing beside her, and with a sigh, he came over and sat with her.
“Hunter, you were really young when Mom died.”
“I wasn’t that young.”
“You were a tiny, tiny baby.”
He kicked her ankle, not hard or anything, just hard enough to tell her to knock it off. Mercifully, she did.
“You were even younger when Mom got sick, so maybe… Maybe you don’t remember as much about how she and Dad used to be.”
“I know they were blissfully happy.”
“They really were.” Letting out a deep breath, she twisted to face him more. “I know you think Dad’s a shell now, but do you ever think about why?”
“Because he lost the love of his life.”
“Because he misses her. Because they had, like, twenty amazing years together. He doesn’t have any regrets.”
He snorted, glancing away. “Yeah, right.”
“He doesn’t.” She reached over and squeezed his hand, just for a second, before letting go. “You think he would trade away a moment, just to spare himself the pain he had after?”
“I don’t know.”
“Not in a million years. He loved her, and yes, his heart was broken after he lost her, and yes, he’s kind of a recluse now. But you realize that you’ve been a total recluse your entire adult life, right?”
“So?”
“So.” She looked at him with eyes that were unbearably kind. “So you didn’t even get to have the good years before you put yourself in exile.”
Oh.
Oh.
He poked at her words in his head, his mouth opening and closing, but he couldn’t seem to find any holes in her logic.
“Don’t get me wrong. I am terrified of losing TJ, or of something happening to my kids.
But it’s scary because I love them. Our lives are hard—and sort of bananas sometimes.
” She smiled, shaking her head with a fondness that reached right into his chest and squeezed.
“But we’re happy. If I did lose them, I’d be devastated, but really, is anything worthwhile if you wouldn’t be devastated to lose it? ”
Something funny was happening behind his ribs. All the feelings he’d been pushing down and ignoring were escaping their cages, and he couldn’t breathe—but in a good way. What he felt was so big, so powerful.
He was afraid of losing Emma… He was afraid of letting her in, or trusting her, or building a life with her…
Because he loved her.
So much.
And yet there was still this fear, holding him back. “What if she doesn’t want what I want, though? What if she doesn’t feel—”
Kyra’s bark of laughter cut him off.
“What?” He scowled, all of that emotion that had been filling his chest receding. “You haven’t even met her.”
“I mean, not in real life…”
“What does that mean?”
His sister leveled him with an appraising gaze for a second. Then she let out another, softer, more disbelieving laugh. “Oh, wow, you really don’t know, do you?”
“Know what?”
She waggled her phone at him. “You seriously need to get with the twenty-first century, my friend.”
“Just tell me already, will you?”
“Hold your horses.” She’d opened up the same social media app Emma had installed for him on his phone, and he craned his neck to look over her shoulder.
The home screen showed the usual nonsense—teenagers dancing to some awful pop song.
But she tapped on a search icon and typed in hot forest ranger.
He was instantly filled with both excitement and deep, deep dread. When his own account showed up as the top result, the dread took over. “That is not what the H stands for.”
“Try telling that to the internet,” his sister crowed.
“Look, this was all her idea,” he protested.
“Obviously.”
Kyra flicked through a handful of videos, all of which he vaguely remembered filming, though they were barely recognizable now.
Emma had really upped her editing game since those first couple of clips she’d posted for him, adding music overlays and snappy transitions.
Little emojis showed up here and there, as well as floating text.
Something in the bottom corner of the screen caught his eye. He leaned in closer and just about choked on his own tongue. “This thing has how many views?”
“A metric shit ton, I believe is the accurate descriptor.” Kyra narrowed her eyes at him. “Did you honestly not know about this?”
“I knew about it,” he admitted. “She’s into this stuff, and she was helping me drum up visitors to the preserve, and maybe help folks get out into nature and do it safely and responsibly. But I haven’t looked at the account in… I don’t know. A couple of weeks?”
“That makes sense, because it only really took off last night.” She kept scrolling until she found a video he didn’t remember filming. “When your girlfriend posted this.”
He leaned in closer. Immediately, he recognized the clip, and his stomach dipped.
This was from the moment Emma had fallen.
“Why would she post this?” He took the phone from his sister and watched with his stomach in knots as the video captured five of the worst seconds of his life.
The footage went all shaky, and then there were leaves covering part of the screen, and then there was him.
Absolutely calm on the outside but losing his mind completely on the inside.
He remembered asking all the right questions, doing all the right things.
He remembered being one hundred percent focused on her.
And yet somehow…
The Emma on the screen wasn’t quite the Emma of his recollection. Because even through her discomfort, she was staring up at him like…
Like he was her world.
Just like she was his.
Kyra gingerly took the phone back and tapped on something to reveal the comments.
Kiss kiss kiss
Ughghghg the unresolved sexual tension!!!
She is gone for him
If she doesn’t put a ring on it, I volunteer as tribute
“The internet ships you two hard,” Kyra told him.
“I have no idea what that means.” But he was pretty sure he got the gist.
“There are more.” Kyra flicked to another video—one of the first ones they’d shot, when Emma had put herself in frame to comment on his uniform. In real life, he’d missed the look on her face, then, too.
And he still wanted to be cynical. Every instinct told him to hang on to his doubts.
Pausing the video, Kyra raised a brow in challenge. “Tell me that girl doesn’t feel the same way you do.”
“Those are just videos,” he replied weakly. “The internet isn’t real life.”
“Did any of that feel like it wasn’t real when you guys were recording it?”
Some of what they’d filmed had been staged, sure. But none of that.
Doubt still tugged at his insides. A fear so old he’d almost stopped noticing it.
But as he let his gaze linger on the image of Emma, staring at him on the screen, he couldn’t help remembering the advice he’d given Alix just that morning.
Sometimes you had to shake things up. Get out of your comfort zone.
To find happiness?
Sometimes you had to take a leap of faith.