AllFreeNovel
Share Us
I wasn’t the only one panicking about our impending doom—knowledge that brings me great comfort.
“You won’t. Ever.” I grip the back of his neck and pull his mouth to mine. A low moan escapes as he slides into me. His hips move rhythmically, never rushing, never relenting. Over and over again, matching the drumbeat of my heart, as our bodies coil tighter, and our sounds grow hoarse, and our mouths whisper sweet promises of always.
Chapter Thirty-Five
“You have everything?”
Diana absently pats the pockets of her denim jacket as she takes inventory of the luggage Jonah unloaded onto the Anchorage airport curb—one suitcase stuffed with twelve outfits for her four-day trip, a backpack, and her oversized purse—and then nods. “I think I’m good. If I forgot anything, it’s yours. Okay! This trip was amazing! Oh my God, I’m going to cry!” She throws her arms out.
My eyes are watering as we embrace, and I’m not sure whose grip is tighter. Her flight to Toronto through Vancouver leaves in two hours, and I want to hold on to her until the last possible second. I want to beg her not to leave.
These past few days flew by in a blur of late-night laughter, premature wedding planning, and sight-seeing, visiting some of the same landmarks we did last summer with my father. We made it to Juneau after all, spending all day yesterday marveling at the glaciers, searching for humpback whales and bald eagles, and touring the picturesque and colorful downtown shops. We arrived home late last night, the glow of a hazy orange sun low on the horizon and my soul aching with a mix of emotions.
Diana has to go back to her reality, though—to Aaron and Beef Stick, to lively nights in her pricy Liberty Village condo and getting ready for law school, which I’m guessing is going to take up much of her focus in the coming years.
And I have to go find my new reality in this sleepy town in Alaska.
“Thank you for everything.” She grips Jonah’s shoulders in a fierce hug, adding in a whisper that I catch, “Take care of her for us.”
“Always,” comes his gruff response.
She discreetly brushes a tear from her cheek and then, slinging her backpack over her shoulder and popping the handle on her suitcase, Diana blows us a kiss and strolls through the doors, her furtive gaze already scanning the signs for directions.
We’re left standing at the curb with cars waiting to take our spot in the passenger drop-off lane. It’s time to go, and yet I can’t seem to make my legs move toward the passenger side.
“It’s going to be so quiet without her around.” A hot tear trickles over my lip.
Too quiet.
“You want me to drive?” Jonah offers.
The prickly lump in my throat flares. “Yes, please.”
But instead of moving for the driver’s side, Jonah slips an arm around me and pulls me into his side to press a kiss against my forehead. “It’s gonna be okay.”
I steal a glance at him, in a soft cotton T-shirt and a pair of faded, worn blue jeans—his favorite, I’ve come to learn. Since our explosive fight on Saturday and epic reconciliation on Sunday morning, things have felt “right” between us again. But now I see worry veiled in his blue eyes. He’s afraid it was only temporary. That Diana was a Band-Aid for our ongoing challenges.
And that’s exactly what she was, if we allow it.
If I allow it.
I hate seeing Jonah like this. He’s supposed to be the confident, assured one. I’m the one who doesn’t have her shit together.
But perhaps that’s where things need to change.
I sink into him, reaching up to cup his chin. I offer him a reassuring smile. “Let’s go home.”
* * *
My shoes kick loose gravel as I trek behind Jonah, my attention on the mountain range in the distance. Denali looms as it does every day, a silent, imposing expanse of rock, its caps still marked with snow. It has become a constant for me here, an anchor of sorts, and seeing it triggers an odd sense of calm that I can’t explain, despite my melancholy over Diana leaving.
“What’s all this stuff?” Jonah stoops to pick something up by the front door. “Someone left two dozen eggs here. And our plate?” He holds it in the air.
I spy the red roses bordering the white china dish through the porch screen door. “I left that at Roy’s last week. I brought him muffins.” That was on Friday, before I took him to the hospital, before our enormous fight.
“You gave him muffins?” Jonah glowers. “I was wonderin’ where those went.”
“Roy must have had Toby drop off these things.” Is this supposed to be a peace offering?
