Page 82 of On the Slopes of Tahoe
“Because I used to be a sun too. I thought all my light, the positivity that I lived by, the brightness of my future was gone when I got here. I couldn’t see through the darkness Talia left me in.Youlit up those shadows.Youshowed me your light.Youlet me pull from it so I could find mine again, and for that I’ll always be eternally grateful to you. And you know what I love?”
My breath hitches on the word even though I know he’s not going to say it’s me. He can’t say it’s me. He won’t.
“I love that the sun in Sydney is the same as the sun in Tahoe. We’ll never be that far apart. Does that answer your question about if we’ll still be friends when I go home? Does that soothe your worries that I’m going to walk away and forget you? How could I forget the sun?” he says, letting the words sink in as he holds my gaze.
I press forward and seal my lips over his. I have only two more nights with this man and I want to enjoy every last minute of them. He may think I’m the sun, that his light was dimmed and it was me who brought it back, but I’ve never burned as bright as I have with him.
He encouraged me to fly while also being the soft and stable landing place I could rely on. With him leaving, it’s like I’m standing at the precipice and have to decide if I can fly on my own. I know that’s what I need. I know that I can. But it’s terrifying to look down and know he won’t be there to catch me if I fall.
I need to believe in myself to take that final leap, and I never will if he’s constantly there as my safety net.
I lean into him farther, afraid to lose the wayhelightsmeup. He’s going to take that with him too. I realize I don’t mind if he does, so long as it means he can be the sun to Willow. If it means he’ll have a light to see his future—because it’s going to be great, and I don’t want him to miss it.
I wish I understood why we were only meant for this. For this short space of time. Maybe we were destined to help each other so we could go on to the futures we deserve, even if they aren’t the same.
“Rory.” He groans against my lips, moving me so I sit astride him on the couch. “Be here. Be with me, right now. Let me distract you from all those thoughts in your head, and you can distract me from all the ones in mine. Just be here, yeah?” His voice is ragged with emotion and desire, and I give in.
We choose each other one more time, before we have to choose ourselves.
CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN
Breck
“Willow, why don’t you go to the bathroom before we go through security, yeah?” I say, wanting a minute alone with Rory.
“But I don’t need to go.” Willow stomps her foot. Literally stomps her foot. I know I shouldn’t encourage her, but I can’t hold back a laugh.
“Doesn’t matter. Go try anyway.” I nod toward the bathroom behind where we’re standing.
One aggressive eye-roll later, she takes her stomping feet with her to the bathroom. As soon as she rounds the corner, I pull Rory into my arms. I slide a hand up her back and into her hair, not caring that we’re in public, not caring who’s watching. We have only minutes. I tilt her face up and slant my lips over hers, insistent and wanting, using this kiss to convey all the things I can’t say.
I want her to know how much I appreciate her for being the support I didn’t know we needed. For being a friend. For being a woman I’m proud Willow looks up to. More than all of that, for helping me see I’m capable of intimacy again. For things I won’t let myself put into words. Knowing if I do, even in my head, this will become infinitely harder.
I want more and I don’t want to stop, but it won’t be long before Willow is back, and she doesn’t need to find us tangled up in each other. I slow the kiss and pull back enough to press my forehead to hers.
I take a steadying breath and whisper, “Thank you,” into the space between us.
She sighs against me and her shoulders relax. She hugs me, resting her head on my shoulder, and breathes the same two words into my ear. I squeeze her a little tighter and she shudders in my grasp.
Another set of arms wrap around us both and I pull Willow into our embrace. Her smaller shoulders shake. She’s upset and I know, for her, this is only making it harder.
I close my eyes and inhale, then pull away. We’ve put off the inevitable long enough. I gather our things and give Willow a minute with Rory, who drops down to her haunches. My throat feels thick watching her hug my daughter. Willow whispers something in Rory’s ear and they tighten their embrace as Rory whispers something back.
I brush my hand down Willow’s back and she looks up at me, eyes red and puffy. I give her a little nod and her shoulders sag. She stands up and Rory follows, averting her wet gaze.
“Keep me posted on your travels so I know you make it home, okay?” Her voice quavers and I look at the ceiling, wishing gravity could pull the tears back.
“I will,” I manage to get out but have to clear my throat to keep going. “We’ll talk soon. I want to hear how the elopement tomorrow goes with Patrick.”
“Right, yeah, of course.” Rory looks up and our eyes catch. Seeing both my girls so sad is eviscerating my heart. But Rory’s not my girl, not really.
I wish more than anything this wasn’t so damn hard.
“Bye, Rory.”
“Bye.” Her voice cracks and she turns at the same time Willow and I head for security.
I won’t look back.I won’t look back.
