Total pages in book: 143
Estimated words: 130275 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 651(@200wpm)___ 521(@250wpm)___ 434(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 130275 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 651(@200wpm)___ 521(@250wpm)___ 434(@300wpm)
A loved one’s death wasn’t a onetime thing that you had to endure. It was an endless cycle. A cruel Groundhog Day that burned away at your heart and soul until there was nothing left but scorched flesh where they once had been.
I shook off my hands when they began to tremble. I inhaled slowly, deeply, the cold air reminding me of where I was. The uneven earth beneath my feet crunched on the icy mud. I needed to walk. To move. To cast off this gutting feeling that was closing in. I almost fell to my knees in relief when Gordon began to lead us on.
For the first time in my life, I wanted to walk. I wanted to walk and walk until I couldn’t think. Until my muscles were so sore and exhausted that I would fall into a restful sleep.
Just for one night.
“Slow down, ranger,” Dylan said, jogging to catch up with me. I didn’t. I pushed on, chest tight from how fast I was breathing. I kept my attention focused on the route before us. Everything around me was still and calm, my rapid breathing the only thing I could hear, until, “Jose would have loved this.” Dylan’s words were barely above a whisper, but I heard it, the whistling wind carrying it straight to my ears.
I slowed down and looked over at my friend. His eyes were downcast, and his hands were in his pockets. He flickered a nervous gaze to me, then said, “My best friend.” He shrugged, like whatever he was going to say was trivial. “He’s who I’ve lost. Why I’m here.” It wasn’t trivial at all. It was monumental. The most important thing.
“I’m so sorry,” I said and saw that he had paled, his beautiful face crumpled in sorrow. Dylan forced his infectious smile, smothering the inner sadness that I could see was screaming to be released.
Silence stretched between us. Dylan’s shoulders curled inward, and I felt a distance growing between us. I was terrible at this. At comforting others. At saying the right things. My heart tore apart for him. But I didn’t know how to make it better.
Poppy was a helper … be a helper …
Dylan cast his gaze around us, at the lake down below that now appeared minute from this far away. I knew he was thinking of Jose. His eyes shimmered, and I couldn’t take it anymore. Reaching out, I threaded my arm through his and pulled him close. Catching a hitch in his breath, and an extinguished sob, I laid my head against his shoulder and tried to show without words that I was there for him.
The wind caught a falling tear from my eye and carried it into the air. I didn’t know Jose. But I was beginning to know Dylan and how special he was. So I knew Jose must have been special too.
“As special as special can be …” I heard Poppy’s voice whisper into my ear, and that memory wrapped around me like a warm blanket. She’d want me to be there for others. To open myself up to them too.
I wasn’t a tactile person, but Dylan’s breathing seemed to come easier as I held him. Somehow, it made me feel better too. Sharing in one another’s pain.
“He loved being outside,” Dylan said. He laughed, and it was so pure it took my breath away. “He was always dragging me from my house and outside with him. Basketball, baseball, hiking, football. You name it, he wanted to do it, watch it, experience it.” I squeezed him tighter so he knew he could continue if he wanted to. I was a good listener.
Dylan laughed, then said, “There was one time, we—” His laughter abruptly faded, and I heard that heart-wrenching sound that told me his throat had clogged, taking away his voice from the slam of a memory. A surprise attack from grief so strong it could drop you to your knees. I knew that good memory of Jose had been hijacked by one that was tormented. Dylan lowered his head, and he gave himself over to his agony.
Unsure what to do, I almost stopped and told Mia and Leo that we needed to turn back. That Dylan was hurting and needed some rest. But then Cael passed by us, and only for our ears he said commandingly, “Keep walking.” He nudged his chin in the direction of Gordon, and I saw a flicker of sympathy for Dylan cross his handsome face. Cael stayed just a hairsbreadth in front of us. He glanced over his shoulder, like he was trying to not speak to us, to not engage. But then his shoulders sagged in defeat, and he said, “It helps. Just … keep walking. Push through. Exhaust the pain. Don’t give it room to breathe.”