“I love that.”Meg’s voice was soft, her throat tight with emotion she couldn’t name.She wanted to say something profound, something that would match the weight of what he’d shared.
But all she could manage was, “I’m glad you made it back.”
“Me too.”
His hand came up, his fingers brushing along her jawline, and she shivered despite herself.
“I am so sorry we are trapped in here.”
She heard what he wasn’t saying.I am so sorry we might die in here.
“How far along was Mary?”
“Thirty weeks.”The words seemed to scrape his throat.“I was supposed to drive her that day, but I got caught up at work.”
“Was she not supposed to drive?”There were conditions like that.Preeclampsia.Placenta previa.Bedrest orders.
“What?No.Nothing like that.She told me I didn’t need to drive her, but I just liked to…I don’t know why.I just liked to…”
“Control the situation?”
He dropped his head forward, his gaze fixed on the ground, on the bloodstained gauze scattered around them.“I do have a problem with that.But that time, if I had been driving then?—”
“Then maybe you would be dead too.You didn’t cause her death, and you didn’t trap us in here.You need to stop believing you can prevent every bad thing from happening.”She winced at the fierce tone, but he needed to hear them.
“I am starting to realize that.”
He scooted closer—close enough that she could feel the heat radiating off his body in the cool cave air—and framed her face, both palms warm against her skin.His thumbs pressed at her temples, where her pulse hammered.
“But I also want you to know, fault or no fault, I will not give up trying to get us out of here.And when we get out of here, I am going to convince you that you belong in Arizona, not Pennsylvania.Not because the park needs you.But because I need you.”
The words hung in the air between them—raw, honest, terrifying.
She wasn’t sure who moved first.
Maybe it didn’t matter.
His lips found hers, and this kiss was different from all the ones before—deeper, slower, full of everything they hadn’t said and might never get the chance to say.Full of promises and hope and desperation.
Meg’s hands slid up his chest and felt his heart hammering beneath her palms—proof that he was here, alive, real.His fingers threaded through her hair, careful of her headlamp, and tilted her head to deepen the kiss.
She could taste salt and stone dust, could feel the tremor in his hands that matched the one running through her entire body, could feel three years of grief and loneliness pouring out of him into this moment.
When they finally broke apart, both breathing hard, Noah rested his forehead against hers.His eyes were closed, his expression almost pained—as if this hurt as much as it healed.
“We’re going to get out of here,” he said again, fierce and certain, like he was making a vow.
“Yeah.”Meg’s voice was barely audible.“We are.”
For a moment, she let herself believe it.Let herself imagine walking out of this cave with Noah beside her.Imagine what came after.Imagine morning coffee that didn’t have an expiration date.Imagine staying instead of running.
Maybe she could actually stay.
“Isn’t this sweet?”
The deep voice came from the entrance of the cavern.
They jerked apart, their heads turning toward the sound.Meg’s heart lurched.
