The Darkest Part(78)

Holden pulls out his phone and punches something on the screen. “Sixty-five. Same as we took in. Why?” His eyebrows scrunch together, but I think he already knows what I’m about to do.

I take the next exit and, finding the sign for my turn almost too late, swing onto the ramp leading us back toward Springfield. Holden curses as I take the curve hard. “Fuck. If you weren’t handling her so well, I think I would’ve just shat myself.”

I laugh. After I get back onto sixty-five, I look over. His expression is strange. I’ve never seen that look in his eyes before. But suddenly, as a memory is triggered, I remember a time when I did. At the dead tree. His gaze flicked over me in something that could only be described as awe.

And he has that same look now.

“I told you I could drive a stick.” I puff out my chest in mock cockiness. I expect him to laugh, for my joke to lighten the intensity shadowing his face. It doesn’t.

My stomach flutters, and I grip the wheel tighter. He finally averts his gaze, and the cab loses some of its tension.

“I didn’t doubt that you could.”

I smirk. “Liar.”

He chuckles. And that fluttering returns. I won’t deny that I’m attracted to him—am still attracted to him. That would be lying to myself, and I’m sick of that, too. Like I was trying to explain to Tyler at the hotel pool, I had loved Holden at one time. It wasn’t in the same way that I loved him. But Holden had been my first crush. My first love. And my first real heartbreak.

I’d tried to convince myself that I was too young to know what real love was back then. And, maybe I was. But I never felt for Tyler what I’d felt for Holden. That intense, raw, all-consuming emotion. And I assumed it was because it wasn’t actually love. Just desire, or lust, or hormones, maybe.

Tyler was my forever. We would have had an amazing life together. Despite his slip with that bar girl, we would’ve worked through it. And he would’ve been a wonderful husband, and an even better father.

But that forever . . . that possible future . . . is gone. I’ve always had a plan. Because of Tyler. He was that type. Everything mapped out. Just like his road trip. And I was a part of his plan. I wanted to be, and I would’ve been content living out that plan.

Content.

It echoes in my head. That word should feel more . . . .satisfying. Happy. But that’s not the definition of contentment. I’d never asked myself before if being content would be enough. I never had to. And what I was trying to get across to Tyler was: I have to now.

More than he needs to let me go, I need to let him go. In order to move on and find something more than contentment. I’m not ashamed that I loved Holden anymore. Those feelings, regardless of whether they were misguided or wrong, were real.

I just don’t know what to do about it. And I can’t fully explore anything until I’ve completed my journey with Tyler.

“You’re going to miss the exit,” Holden says, pulling me out of my deep thoughts.

“Oh.” I turn on the blinker and merge into the next lane. “Thanks.”

“You’re welcome.”

His voice is light and carefree. I smile.

As I head down the road, I take in the massive building that stretches the entire parking lot before us. “That can’t all be a Bass Pro Shop. All of it?”

“Looks like it,” he says under his breath and then groans. “Are we going in?”

“Um . . .” I spot a place next to one of the many ponds lining the road. I’m sure Holden will have a mild stroke when I do this, but I say, “No. Right here’s fine.” And I pull into the high grass. The jarring whap of grass blades pelting the sides of the truck and undercarriage makes me cringe, and I peek over at him. “This is okay, right?”

He presses his lips together, restraining a frown or a smile, I’m not sure which. Then he looks at me with a forced calm expression. “I’m not that anal.” He cocks his head. “All right. I am, but it’s fine.”

Parking in first and pulling the e-brake, I shut off the engine and just sit for a minute. Driving is a huge thing for me, and now I have to get my mind straight to release more of Tyler’s ashes.

Holden seems to realize that I need a minute and hops out of the truck. I watch as he sinks his hands into his pockets and walks toward the pond. My gaze sweeps over his broad shoulders, the tattoos on his arm. An unbidden memory of his eyes, intense and wanting, enters my mind.

Not the best timing. I’m trying to focus on Tyler, but it’s getting complicated. With a deep inhale, I open the door and get out. Reaching behind the seat, I grab my pack, then walk toward the edge of the pond where Holden is standing. I soak up the bright sun, let it warm some of the hesitant chill sweeping my skin.