Page 86 of On the Way to You

But I didn’t hear him. Icouldn’thear those words, those foreign sounds and syllables.

I’d never be ready to lose him.

Time was ticking again, mercilessly propelling me forward in a race I never signed up for. It would either throw me into a world without Emery or straight into his arms, and I had no choice but to go with it blindly — knowing both were a possibility, praying only the latter would come true.

It was a five hour drive to Palouse Falls, and though fear prickled at my nerves, a sense of calm washed over me as I loaded Kalo up into the taxi that would take us to pick up the rental car.

He was still alive.

I could feel him, his soul tethered to mine, stretching across the distance. That pull, that string pulled taut was my only comfort.

Time pushed again, hands firm on my back, and I realized then that it wasn’t time I was racing at all — it was Death. It was knocking, bone fingers curling around the edges of the door, the wood creaking open as I closed my eyes and repeated one thought like a mantra.

I will find him.

I will find him.

I will find him.

I just hoped I’d find him first.

I watched the morning stretch lazily across the sky in front of me as I drove, the sun rising in a steady glow that painted the sky orange before slowly fading into the softest blue. The gray skies and snowy ground was left behind me, and though the weather stayed cool, there was a ray of hope in that sunshine ahead of me.

It was a struggle until I got out of the snow, actually, because I’d never driven in those conditions before. Apparently, it didn’t snow much in Portland, which meant the wonderland I’d seen was a rare one, and it also meant the streets weren’t exactly in the best conditions in the early morningafterthe snow had fallen. I’d taken it slow and driven with both hands firmly on the wheel until the roads cleared, the snow on the sides of it growing thinner and thinner until none existed at all. Phantom pains racked my leg, zinging up my thigh, my entire body too tense to function.

Once I was in the clear, a numb awareness fell over me, almost like I blacked out. I hardly noticed anything as I drove, my body falling into the automation of driving while my mind tumbled over the thousands of thoughts I had that morning.

It was like a driving meditation, my focus falling inward, body assuming the responsibilities of the physical world while my mind tried to find peace inside. Glen was in my head, telling me to prepare for the worst — but which would that be? Would it be that I drive to Palouse Falls and Emery isn’t there, or that I find him, but it’s too late?

On the one hand, if I simply didn’t find him, he could potentially be alive. But the worst part is I would never know either way. I would never hear from him again, alive or dead, and that pain of not knowing would haunt me.

But would it haunt me more than knowing with absolute certainty that he was gone from the Earth?

I didn’t know.

So, instead of focusing on those possibilities, I rested my faith in my heart center, sending vibes into the universe that I would find him, safe and sound, and that he would listen. Those two things were all I wanted, they were my deepest desire, and I set them as my intention as the miles ticked on, my breathing calming, steadying.

It was after ten in the morning by the time I pulled into the park, the sign welcoming me to Palouse Falls with a simple wooden greeting. I paid my entrance, inquiring about camping, and the attendant gave me directions to find the designated areas. The calm I’d found on the drive over was more subdued now, my heart picking up speed as I drove through the different sites looking for signs of Emery.

Kalo was quiet beside me, her chin resting on her paws, sad eyes glancing at me every now and then before they found focus somewhere else in the car. I just rubbed behind her ear, trying to soothe her, to assure her everything was okay when I knew she knew better.

“I miss him, too,” I told her, and she let out a long sigh, nudging into my hand before I pulled it back to the wheel. Then, my breath caught in my throat.

Emery’s car was parked just ahead, right next to two tents and a Jeep I didn’t recognize. The faint smell of eggs hit my nose as I parked next to his car, leashing Kalo and balancing on shaky legs as I neared the tent laid out in front of his convertible.

It was brand new, that much I could tell, and it was small — just enough for one person. The front of it was unzipped, and my heart hammered in my chest as one hand reached forward, pulling the flap open to peer inside.

Empty.

My stomach dropped as I took in the single sleeping bag, rumpled from a restless night, Emery’s bag under the top half of it like a pillow. A pair of his briefs and sweatpants lay at the foot of the sleeping bag in a heap, and the backpack we’d purchased in Colorado for hiking was nowhere to be seen.

Neither was his journal.

I stepped inside the tent with Kalo, eyes scanning his belongings as Kalo sniffed around. Her tail was wagging softly, her optimism returning, though mine remained stunted.

“He left about an hour ago.”

I jumped at the voice, hand flying to my heart as I spun on my heels and came face to face with a tall, broad-shouldered man. He was exotic, his wide blue eyes set ablaze next to his deep olive skin, dark hair pulled into a bun at the nape of his neck that almost blended with the thick beard lining his jaw. He was dressed and ready to hike for the day, his backpack already on his shoulders, boots tied up around his thick ankles.