Page 76 of Let the Light Shine Through

A tension crawls up my spine, sticking its claws into each vertebra like the rungs of a ladder.

“What’s wrong?”

It’s a while before Roz answers, saying, “I used to board there,” between his teeth.

Exhaling loudly, I press the back of my head against the headrest multiple times. Shit.

“Yeah, so,” I run my palms up and down my thighs, “I fucked up. I’m really sorry.”

As if on autopilot, he tells me, “You didn’t know.”

“True, but I shouldn’t have asked you to come along anyway.” This was a bad idea all-around. The entire situation had the potential to blow up in my face—truthfully, the odds were never really in my favor—but it just detonated before we even got to our destination.

Roz side-eyes me, but I point up ahead of us, telling him, “Pull over whenever you get the chance and I’ll call someone to drive me the rest of the way. I didn’t think this through, like at all, so you can just drop me off around here somewhere.” Anywhere. “And I’ll cover the gas you wasted and everything.”

His head starts to shake. “You’re kidding, right? I’m not going to drop you off on the side of the fucking road.”

I soften my voice, infusing it with a smile I don’t feel at all. “Don’t worry about it. There are so many other people going, I’ll have another ride lined up before I even unload my quad.” I could probably even ride the rest of the way there myself.

My phone’s already out and I’m opening the lock screen when Roz grabs it from my grasp, wordlessly dropping it in his center cupholder.

He takes the exit I originally told him to, acting like I didn’t just hit the eject button on my own seat, and I shift to face him.

“Roz, you don’t have to do this.”

He doesn’t answer though. He doesn’t say anything for the rest of the drive actually. I watch him while he watches the road, and as soon as we get closer to the cabin, I point out which turns to take until we finally arrive at the large rental home everyone went in on for the next few days. Supposedly it sleeps twenty. We invited forty, plus enough randoms to spice things up.

As Roz circles around for a place to park, I can’t help but check out the competition. Technically none of us are here to race, but I still prefer my girl to be the nastiest four-wheeler in the crowd. It makes the reaction when people discover she’s mine that much better. So far it looks like Rowdy’s twin YFZs are the only ones even close to my league.

My smile disappears when I hear Roz basically hyperventilating next to me.

“Hey, you don’t need to stick around.” I jerk a thumb over my shoulder. “I’ll get this unloaded real quick, so you can be on your way.” I don’t want to say goodbye to him, but I need to.

Story of my life.

His voice stops me as he says, “Tell me how you do it,” his gaze zeroed in on the base of the giant mountain before us.

“Do what?”

He pins those lost eyes on me.

“Not feel.”

“You think I don’t feel?” I’m literally choking back my feelings. “I really was lucky,” I say, sighing, “my mom loved me so hard, so wholly, that I can still feel it wrapped around me, even three years after her death.” I peer out the window now, not really seeing. “I do miss her though. Everything about her. Every day. Sometimes I miss her so much, the pain tears up my insides, looking for a way out.” My voice thins as I look at him. “But her love, it was so fucking strong, so fucking sure, it was like wearing steel armor. That armor, that love, is what keeps the pain from getting out and taking over. It’s what keeps me in one piece. Because I allow it to. I choose to remember my mom and I choose to honor her by embracing her love, her life, and her death, not bucking it.”

“How do you make it look so easy?”

“I don’t know. It’s not easy. It takes work, for sure, but we can’t choose where we’re born or when or to who. We can’t choose if we’re born at all. But the life we are given, it’s full of choices, and I choose to live mine with no regrets. I’m going to leave this world having done everything I wanted to, just like my mom did.”

Just like my mom did.

“I overstepped what I was given, so it got taken away.”

“Overstepped?”

“Yeah, I think I over-lived it somehow.”

“It wasn’t taken away though. You walked away, unscathed.”