Harvey leans back slightly. “And what do you feel you need in order to stop living like that?”
“I need to deal with my past . . . deal with the things I’ve done.”
“Is there a specific event that you think caused you to live this way?”
“I know there is.” My palms are already damp. I wipe them on my jeans, but it doesn’t help. The room feels smaller than it did five minutes ago. I stare at the floor because it’s easier than watching his face change.
“I started a fire when I was a teen and someone I loved didn’t make it out. It destroyed my family.”
My chest tightens, like my body’s trying to drag me backward into it, but I don’t stop.
“I went in after her,” I add. “I still do—every time I close my eyes.”
Silence settles between us.
“It cost my grandparents everything.”
Saying it out loud after telling Aspen is easier than I expected. Whatever reaction I get I can handle because it doesn’t matter. I told Aspen and she didn’t give up on me.
When I look up, I expect judgment. But it isn’t there. Instead, there’s . . . patience. Like he’s waiting for me to figure out how to say the next thing.
When I don’t he says, “You’ve talked about your family twice now.”
My brows pull together. “What?”
“When you talk about what happened, you talk about what everyone else lost.” He taps his pen against his notebook. “I’m curious if you’ve ever let yourself think about what that night cost you.”
And that’s how the rest of the hour goes.
After the session, I step out into the September sun. It’s not as hot as those first weeks in Timberline Peak, but it’s still warm.
I know one appointment doesn’t undo years of believing the worst parts of myself, and I have a long way to go before I fully forgive myself.
But for the first time, I believe maybe I can.
I just don’t know if Aspen is ready to forgive me.
But I know I won’t forgive myself if I let fear make one more choice for me.
There’s one thing I need to do before I find her.
Then I’m going to tell her everything I should have said when she was brave enough to say it first.
CHAPTER
FIFTY-FOUR
ASPEN
I’m in the garage loading boxes in the back of my SUV. It’s been three long days since I spoke with Caleb and five since I left Emmett back in Coyote Creek.
Boundaries are new to me but I’m beginning to think maybe it’s not always setting them that’s hard but keeping them that’s the real challenge.
I have considered checking in on Emmett more than once.
But cleaning out my garage is giving me an outlet for energy that feels like it’s got nowhere else to go.
Trunk packed full, I’m about to close the hatch and take the load to my brother’s when I hear the hum of an engine behind me.
