Page 105 of Quiver

Fletcher winced. “Hey, still talking about my family.”

“I mean not literally fucking, but also yes.” Kylie’s temper flared red in her cheeks. “You’re the real deal here, Fletch. You’re the vanguard of a renaissance in an almost lost combat art. You’re epically cool, a freaking world champion in something that combines skill and grace and power, and you love it. What’s more, you make other people love it, too. It’s a ridiculously rare gift. It’s the same thing I try to capture every time I step on a stage or in front of a camera, the ability to convey what I feel in my heart so someone else feels it, too. You do that every time you ride, every time you shoot, every class you share with those kids.”

Fletcher sighed. “I do like the teaching, and I’d never admit this to anyone else, but even with all I’ve accomplished, it’s still fallen short of my dreams.”

“What doesn’t?”

She stared at Kylie for a second, the blunt response to the question and the subtle sadness behind it making her stop. She finally allowed herself to trace the fine lines straining around Kylie’s eyes and at the corners of her perfect mouth. “I don’t know. I guess I assumed other people”—she stumbled over the wording—“I mean, have your dreams let you—” She exhaled through her nose in the frustration of trying to express herself. “If you had it all to do over again,” she said finally, “would you trade your Golden Globe and all the fame that came with it, to … what?”

“Teach theater at a small-town high school?”

“Yeah, and do community plays and come home every night to … to … a horse farm?” She’d almost said to come home to me, but this conversation was hard enough.

Kylie laughed with a strange mix of humor and sorrow. “That’s the million-dollar question, the place the road less traveled always leads me late at night when I can’t sleep. I don’t know the answer.”

Fletcher waited, her heart in her throat. For what, she didn’t know.

“I’m proud of the work I’ve done, and I’m still aching in my bones for the chance to do it well, but wanting something and getting it are two different things. It hasn’t been a bad life, just …” Kylie shook her head. “I’m not sure.”

“Lonely?” Fletcher offered.

“Yes.” Her eyes dimmed, making her look more tired and lost than Fletcher had ever seen her, and still no less beautiful.

The combination made her heart ache.

Kylie finally shook her head, pulling her thoughts back from wherever she’d let them go. “I might not get this part, you know.”

“Don’t.” Fletcher forced out the word against the fear of what Kylie might be hinting at. “Failure isn’t a solution or a good basis for major life choices.”

“There are no guarantees in my business.”

“There are no guarantees anywhere, but we can’t spend the next eleven days together hoping everything we’ve done has been in vain.”

“No, but what if it has been?” Kylie slipped her hand into Fletcher’s.

“Neither of us will be able to live with it. We’d go crazy wondering what could’ve been, and what you would’ve chosen. It’ll always feel like your consolation prize or plan B, for both of us, and we’re not the kind of people who can live that way.” She gave her fingers a little squeeze for emphasis. “We’re driven, we’re pushers, we don’t compromise. It’s what’s always worked best about us. We’re the only ones who ever understood each other on that level.”

“I’ve always loved that about you. We’re both wildly unreasonable in our expectations.” Kylie kissed her temple. “But does that mean you and I are barreling toward another dead end? Rebuilding lives without any room in them for each other?”

“We’re helping each other to chase those wildly unreasonable dreams. We’re believing in each other. We’re granting each other freedom to do things no one else believes we can. Maybe that’s what we should’ve always done, or been, for one another.”

“Would it have been enough for you?” Kylie asked seriously. “All those years ago?”

“Probably not,” Fletcher conceded, “but we’re not kids anymore. I see you differently now. I see me differently, too. We need to do better for each other this time. It’s the only way to redeem either of us now.”

“And redemption is the only hope we have left?”

She considered the question for a second, wishing for better, battling with reality before she finally settled on the latter. “It’s probably the best one.”

Kylie nodded. “Okay then. I want the best for you, Fletch.”

The weight of the statement settled in her chest, heavy but warm. “Then let’s do that this time.”

Chapter Twenty-Six

“Wow.” Fletcher’s eyes warmed Kylie as if she’d run her hands over all the places her gaze traced.

It had been a week since the dam had broken between them, and Kylie still wasn’t used to the way the heat burned through her at the slightest spark. “Wow?”