Page 173 of The Route to You

As Kyle started forward, into the bright white, the perfect day, the mountains, he knew Granny would be smiling.

Because he’d found the love of his life. Peace.

And he was finally ready to let go.

44

KYLE

Kyle’s phone had started blowing up the instant he’d stepped into the tent at the bottom of the finish line—where free Wi-Fi kicked in and a hundred notifications hit.

Reporters were asking for a comment on the exclusive news story that had hit the internet on The DC Gazette’s website.

Brand sponsors, answering emails they’d ignored months ago.

Friends. Family. Everyone.

He had no doubt it would get even worse once the interview came out on television tonight.

But he had to give it to Sloan—she’d thought of every detail, including hiring a PI to track down “Tasha” and documenting her story.

Evan Tipton was probably shitting his pants.

Which, frankly, he deserved.

And more.

While Kyle never would have wished hurt on Sloan, as he walked beside her in the snow, away from the chaos of the post-race tent, he was grateful that Evan had been foolish enough to let Sloan get away. She was the bravest, most caring woman he’d ever known.

And I can’t wait to marry her.

“Where are we going?” Sloan asked, tucking against him, holding his hand.

“Not far. Just somewhere secluded.” He gave a dry laugh. “Believe me, the only thing I want right now is a cold plunge, hot shower, massage, and sleep. In that order.”

“I can help with the massage part. Maybe even the shower part, if you’re up for it.” Her eyes gleamed.

“I’m always up for that.”

He led them off the trail, toward the closest cliff, one that looked out over the valley, someplace tall and beautiful, clear, with a vista that went on for miles.

This is a good place. Granny will like it here.

As he stopped, he unstrapped his pack, then slung it down to the ground. He caught the Blue Ridge logo. He’d done it. Earned this.

And even with what Sloan was offering him and the new opportunities on the horizon, he felt a surge of pride in that.

Digging into his pack, he pulled out a box he’d packed.

“What is that?” Sloan asked, her brow furrowing.

“Granny.”

Sloan’s face dawned with understanding. “Oh.” She looked around them. “Can you do that here?”

“I applied for a permit a month ago, so yeah, I can. I should have done this a lot sooner, really. It just took me a while to find the perfect moment and the perfect place. I wasn’t ready to let go, and thankfully, she anticipated that.”

He swallowed hard and opened the box and spoke to it. “I’m scared. I’m tired. You’re right, I don’t know how to be alone with my own heart. And most of all . . .” He struggled for a breath, tears wetting his cheeks. “I miss you. Thank you for always believing in me, even when I lost my footing.”