Page 163 of The Route to You

Sloan let a slow smile curve her mouth. “When did Delilah Bloom get to be such a font of wisdom?”

“Oh, honey, I was always a font of wisdom. It just took me a while to find my voice. Once I realized the people who were keeping me small were a whole lot of people who wouldn’t cry at my funeral, I never looked back.”

Sloan stood and hugged her. “Thanks for letting me vent. I should probably get back.”

“I’m here if you need me. We can always crack open another bottle. Get another tattoo.”

Sloan grimaced. “Don’t know if another tattoo is in the cards while Penny’s sick.”

“I get it. Then something else. I’m great at coming up with ways to break free.” Delilah blew her a kiss as Sloan left.

The warm summer night was beautiful, and the shops on Main Street were still open since it was the weekend. As Sloan made her way to her car, she let herself walk slowly, her jumbled thoughts appreciating the air, the sound of life and laughter around her. Community. Connection.

A year ago, she’d been in Bozeman, planning a life to a man she’d never talk to again. A life she didn’t want anymore. That maybe she’d never really wanted. All because she’d been too afraid to let herself get hurt by striving for the life she did want.

And for a few moments yesterday, she’d seen a glimpse of the life she’d dreamed of, while Kyle was in the backyard with his family and she’d been preparing dinner. She watched them from the kitchen window, thinking about what it had taken to get back here.

To feeling safe again.

And now, the rug had been pulled out from under her feet by the one man who’d never made her feel unsafe before.

God, why is he doing this?

It wasn’t betrayal like the kind Evan had handed her—the sort that made you feel like you were worthless and carved you into pieces of yourself that were hard to sew back together again.

This was different.

This, she was certain, wasn’t about her.

It was entirely about Kyle. About something he was going through.

About something she didn’t have the answers for yet.

That bothered her almost as much as Kyle doing this. Wasn’t she supposed to be the one that he came to about whatever worried him? And shouldn’t she know him well enough, by now, to be able to guess what it was?

She knew he’d been curing something—some desire to feel alive—by chasing highs through his activities. But why did he feel the need to prove that in the first place?

Instead of driving home, she pulled over and took out her phone, then opened the email Dad had sent her with the storage facility information.

The silence in the car nearly overwhelmed her as she stared at it, heart pounding.

Then she typed it the address into her maps and pulled the car back onto the road.

She’d planned to ask Kyle to go with her when she went to the unit for the first time, but for a reason she couldn’t explain, she needed to go. Right now. And alone.

But as she arrived, she felt her heart kick into her ribs. The sun had already set, the lights of the storage facility were glowing down, fluorescent and cold.

Hard to believe that everything she had of her mother was in one of these lifeless boxes.

She found the right one, then parked her car in front of it and killed the engine.

Maybe she didn’t need to be alone alone.

Unlocking her phone, she considered who she should call. Not Kyle. He’d want to meet her here, and as much as she loved him, he wasn’t what she needed right now.

Not Dad, either. He’d put Mom’s things in here because he couldn’t handle seeing them. Because they caused him so much pain and were filled with so many memories.

Cheyenne was a good option . . . but no.