Page 123 of One Killer Night

He looks forward and straightens his trench coat. “Sorry, sorry. It wasn’t the right time. Got it.”

Goldie

I’m standing at the top of the mountain I just hiked, in a clearing, staring out at the most breathtaking view.

The trees aren’t just beautiful. This is a whole Bob Ross painting.

What’s not beautiful, however, is how out of breath I am. Even after acknowledging this morning that I am not and have never been a natural athlete, I still thought it was a good idea to hike up this mountain.

Although the alternative was staying at the camp, to be further traumatized. I heard this podcast once that said, “If you don’t change it, you choose it.” And I don’t choose scare camp.

I spread my arms, trying to take in nature, as I close my eyes and let the breeze cleanse me.

“Fuck that place,” I whisper to myself with a chuckle, but the longer I stay like that, the more my mood begins to feel heavier.

I know why. It’s been brewing since early this morning. It’s Halloween. I met Noah a year ago today.

I drop my arms, looking out at the peaks and what feels like a million trees. And so many emotions happen all at once and hit me like a ton of bricks, fueled by all the regret I’m carrying, the denial I’m still clutching, and the truth.

It all finally settles into my bones.

My chest rises and falls, not too fast or too slow, but I’m still hyperaware of my breathing, just like the way I can count my blinks right now, because I’m waiting for the ache and the tears.

So instead of holding it in, I say it all to the damn trees.

“I love you ... and I hate you. But I need to think that there was a reason bigger than the both of us for why you did what you did. If anyone asks, though, I’ll tell people we were cursed in this lifetime, so maybe we’ll find each other in a new one.”

I run my hands through my hair as I take a deep breath and try to release everything. But instead of staying calm, I scream. It’s loud and guttural and full of my pain. But it feels good to let it out.

I let it all out until there’s nothing left and I’m laughing at myself.Fuck.I shake out my arms, feeling a little lighter and maybe crazier, but I’ll take this to my grave, so nobody will ever be the wiser.

“Whoo,” I say aloud again before the wind blows harder like it hears me, giving me a chill through my long-sleeve camp T-shirt.

This time I shiver, instinctively patting my pocket for my phone and wondering how late it’s gotten.

Damn, Thor.If I had a watch, I’d check it, but who has one of those anymore.

I left well before noon, so I had plenty of time to do the mile up and back. Still, I don’t want to risk not making it back in time for the bus, so I walk backward a couple of steps, committing this view to memory, before I turn around and head back the way I came, putting an extra pep in my step.

I’m humming to myself, walking quickly past a group of large birch trees, when unexpectedly I slip on some rocks.

“Oh shit,” I gasp, shooting my hand out against a tree to stop me from rolling my ankle or breaking my tailbone.

It stings from the bark, but thankfully I don’t fall. I still for a moment to make sure I’m all good before I whistle as I look down at my feet.

“Sneakers and hiking do not mix.”

But the moment I lift my eyes, my brows draw together.

There’s another tree in front of me, about two feet away, and it’s been carved. Like back in the day when people used to want to preserve their love, and men did big romantic gestures instead of lying.

Looks like I’ve gotten to the bitter part of breaking up.

I walk to it and lift my fingers to trace the heart. God, it must’ve been done ages ago because it’s so smooth. The names inside theheart aren’t legible anymore, but it does kind of look like they’ve been scratched out.

A woman scorned? The plot thickens.

I lean in closer, trying to make out what it says. I whisper, “Love never lasts, sister,” before I draw my head back and shake it. “You’re a better woman than I. If he hurt me after doing this, I’d vote to cut the damn thing down.”