Under the Northern Lights(69)

“Michael, I’m sure he wanted to keep looking. It couldn’t have been an easy decision for him.”

Michael’s hands on the wheel tightened. “Don’t. Don’t defend him. He gave up . . . and he told me I should give up too. ‘Move on, son. That’s what Kelly would want.’ And maybe that is what she would have wanted . . . but I wanted justice. He should have kept trying.”

Just like you should keep trying. You’ve given up . . . on society, on people . . . on life. Don’t you see that?

I couldn’t tell him that, not without starting a fight, so instead I told him, “Okay, Michael . . . okay.”

His entire posture relaxed like a weight had been removed from him. “Thank you . . . for understanding,” he told me. I didn’t. Not entirely, but I hadn’t been there. For me, it was just a story. For Michael, it was pain incarnate.

When we finally arrived at the airport, I felt the weight of change crushing me. This was it. Our last moment. Maintaining an even breath was a challenge, especially when I stepped outside and Michael handed me my bag. It felt heavier than I ever remembered it being.

As we stood there on the sidewalk, people coming and going around us, words escaped me. What could I say to fully encapsulate what he meant to me? He’d saved me, patched me up, cared for me, fallen for me . . . made love to me. There was no simple phrase to thank him for all that, no easy way to tell him I’d never get over him. He was forever a part of me now. Maybe one day I’d move forward, love someone else . . . but I’d never move on. I was stuck. Right here. With him. For eternity.

“Mallory . . . I . . .” Michael seemed lost too. The English language just didn’t have enough words.

“I know,” I told him. He smiled, glad I understood. Setting my bag down, I laced my arms around his neck and pulled him to me for one final kiss. It was soft and sweet . . . and hurt like hell. My insides were acid, burning every single part of me.

When we broke apart, I felt like I couldn’t breathe. Would I ever be able to fully inhale again? Michael’s eyes darted between mine like he was memorizing me. “I will . . . always love you,” he whispered, his voice intense.

A wail stuck in my throat, but I choked it back. “Me . . . too.” It was all I could spit out through the grief tearing me in two.

Michael grabbed my face, kissing me again. There was a voracity to this kiss that sent me reeling. Every movement, every exhale, every sound was a goodbye. Michael pulled away from me without warning. Eyes closed, he turned around and woodenly stormed over to the van like he was forcing every step. I wanted to reach out for him, beg him to stay, but I couldn’t. He had to leave, and I had to let him. It was the ultimate mutual torture.

I watched in a panic as he started the van, backed up, and squealed away, making people nearby shout curse words at him. A part of my heart stretched away from my body as his van began disappearing from sight, and the second it was completely gone . . . it snapped. Broke. Shattered.

The tears were falling now, and nothing I did could hold them back. He was gone. We were done. Dropping my head into my hands, I let the grief pour through me uninhibited.

Goodbye, Michael. I love you. Always.





Chapter Twenty-Four

I cried almost the entire flight home. The man in the seat beside me must have thought I was mental. He kept scooting farther and farther away from me and never once asked me what was wrong. Maybe Michael had a point about society. Still, I needed to be a part of it just as much as he needed to be away from it. In the end, we just weren’t as compatible as I’d thought.

When the plane finally touched down in Boise, my eyes were dry, but my soul felt drained . . . empty. I couldn’t even feel happy to be home yet. I knew that would come, eventually, but I had a feeling it would take a few days. Or months.

I didn’t know what to expect when I trudged down to baggage claim to get my bag. Mom had said she’d pick me up; Dad had probably agreed to go with her. What I saw when my foot stepped off the escalator stole my breath—it looked like half the town was here. Mom, Dad, my sister, all of my friends and extended family, most of my neighbors, and my ex-husband, Shawn. They’d all driven over ninety minutes to watch me get off a plane?

I felt the tears resurface as I took in the sea of friendly faces. See, Michael, this is what you’ve forgotten about. Society isn’t just hate, fear, intolerance, and indifference. There’s love too. And loyalty and family, brotherhood, sisterhood, comradery . . . if only you had come with me, then you’d see for yourself.

Wiping away the tears I didn’t even think could form, I rushed over to my parents. They wrapped their arms around me, holding me tight. “Mallory, thank God . . . we were so scared.”

Having felt that fear myself, I nodded as I pulled back to look at them. “I was too. There were so many times I thought I wouldn’t make it . . .”

“How did you make it?” my father asked. “How did you survive for so long all alone?”

“I wasn’t alone. A man . . . saved me.”

A lump tightened my throat. My parents exchanged a look, but before they could ask me anything, I was assaulted by my sister. “Mallory! Don’t you ever almost die on me again.”

“I’ll try not to, Patricia.” I laughed, squeezing her tight.

The tiny woman in my arms pulled back to look at me with a stern expression. “No more trips into the wilderness. I’ve always said it’s too dangerous, and this disaster only proves my point. You only get one life, Mallory.”