Page 93 of 6 Clues Your Nemesis Loves You

“I miss her like crazy.”

Mizhir cups my shoulder. “You need to be honest with her, man. Talk out whatever went down, and don’t shy away from the tough stuff.”

“She probably won’t give me the time of day. Last time I had an issue with my father, I disappeared on her and she freaked out—told me to never take off like that again. I texted her I was going away this time, but leaving Maggie is a huge insecurity for her.”

“Then I guess you should start hiking pretty fucking fast. The longer you’re away, the more she’ll stew.”

I drop my head back and growl at the sky. “Why didn’t I just drive to Maggie’s instead of taking off?”

Chuckling, he shakes his head. “If you’re anything like my father, it’s because you’re not good at noticing when you’re lost. That’s why men don’t ask for directions. Half the time, they cluelessly think they’re on the right trail. We need bigger road signs.”

I need a fifty-foot sign that reads: Quit Running from Your Problems. “I hate that we took so long to reconnect, but I’m really happy I ran into you out here.”

“Feeling’s mutual, man. Now get going and get your woman back.”

After a bro-pound half-hug with our awkward backpacks, Mizhir and I make plans to meet up in Windfall. I set off at a quick pace, my mind spinning over all I need to do at home—call my father again, tell him exactly how much his choices hurt me, talk to my family about our new brothers and what that means. Then there’s Maggie.

This trip has reminded me I’m a survivor. I’m strong enough to endure in the wilderness on my own, which means I’m strong enough to survive without Maggie. Except I don’t want to. I want Maggie in my life, my home, my bed, sassing me and giving me hell and loving me with her whole heart. I have to tell her she hurt me, but I also have to apologize for walking away without fighting for us. After which, we better be getting back together.

As I hike, I make a mental list to manifest the future I want. I’ve called it “6 Clues My Nemesis Loves Me.”

Maggie shared her painful history with me at her pond.

When I was out of reach after my Fun Father Reunion, she was visibly upset.

Although my humor annoys her at times, she still laughs at my jokes.

She planned a romantic picnic with my favorite foods.

Even though I blindsided her with my reckless I love you, she left her event early to support me.

She pushed herself out of her comfort zone because her feelings for me were too big to ignore.

I need to do the same for her. Be uncomfortable. Tell her exactly what I’m feeling instead of doing my usual duck and run. Prove to her I want to change and be a better partner.

So, yeah. The second I’m done this trip I’ll drive straight to Maggie’s (after I shower off the stink from a week of wilderness) and show her I’m ready to be the man she deserves.

chapter thirty-four

I spend the two-hour drive to my farm thinking about all the things I need to say to Maggie. I also get hot and bothered thinking of all the things I want to do to her. Today is the first night of Chanukah. She’ll be with her family later this evening, lighting their menorah and celebrating together. I have to head her off before that happens. Which means I need to drive faster than is safe and take the quickest shower in the history of showers to delouse myself.

If she refuses to let me into her home, I’ll remind her it’s my birthday. She can’t turn me away on my birthday. The only person I want to ring in my new year with is her.

The second I hit the entrance to my driveway, I unclick my seat belt, ready to jump out as soon as I park…but I see a Jeep. A glowing white beacon telling me my favorite person is here. She must love me too, as my list predicted. She must be as desperate as I am to make things right. Or she’s here to kick me in the nuts for taking off the way I did.

I turn off my ignition, drag my wrist across my clammy forehead. She doesn’t pop out of my house or appear through the curtained windows. She could be in there, gathering my clothes to set them on fire. She might be writing “we’re done” in blood-red lipstick on my mirrors, like a creepy B-movie murderer. Options I’d get behind if they work off enough of her frustration that she gives me another chance.

Unable to delay any longer, I push out of my truck and head for my door, quick strides eating up the mowed grass. A white paper taped to my screen door stops me in my tracks. It looks like the type of note I left on Maggie’s windshield, and a slow smile spreads over my face. If she was plotting my demise, she wouldn’t leave me a note. She wouldn’t play cute games with me.

I take my front steps two at a time, peel the paper off my door, expecting several lines. I get one word:

[REDACTED]

Tipping my head back, I bark out a laugh.

Fuck, do I love this woman. No longer worried she’ll yell at me without giving me a chance to talk, I shove open my front door, searching the entryway and narrow hall. There’s no Maggie in sight, but there’s another note on my living room coffee table. I have it in my hands in seconds. I flip it open, only to laugh again.

[REDACTED]