Page 198 of Heart So Hollow

I let out a bitter laugh, “She better get used to disappointment.”

“I told her you like the attention,” Colson replies with a glint in his eye.

“Jesus, Colson.”

That’s exactly what Dallas needs to be chatting about to everyone at work. Between the three of them, who knows what he’s told them or what they talk about…

“So, what are you doing here?” he looks me up and down, “Don’t you usually bike instead of walk?”

“Yes,” I don’t even bother to recall whether that’s something I told him or if he found out on his own, using more insidious methods, “I wasn’t planning on coming here. I just had to—” I pause, realizing that explaining why I decided on an impromptu hike will only elicit more questions, “I just needed a walk, to sort out some things.”

“What kind of things?”

“Like…” I trail off, feeling absolutely drained, like there’s a cinderblock sitting on top of my chest.

Am I really going to tell Colson that I’ve shunned my best friend, my book is gone, I feel like I’m going insane, Bowen’s getting tired of my bullshit, he told his family all about it, and now they also think I’m insane?

I can’t believe Bowen told Hildy and Leona everything and made me sound like I’m the one going crazy. How could he do that?

At first, I don’t tell Colson anything. I continue walking in silence, staring straight ahead, and he does the same, not expecting anything more. I don’t know how much time passes in silence but eventually the pressure is too much and everything comes spilling out.

“I—I can’t do this,” my chest feels heavy and I feel like I’m walking through quicksand, “I can’t get married right now, everything’s going wrong, I feel like I’m going insane,” I say in defeat, “and I don’t even know why I’m telling you this. You’re biased anyway and you’re the last person I should be talking to.” Now I sound like I’m talking to myself, muttering regrets under my breath, “And I don’t even have Barrett anymore…” I finally manage to say her name out loud and I still have to choke back the lump creeping up my throat.

“What?” Colson furrows his brow, “Why not?”

How do I even tell Colson what happened since the last time I saw him? It doesn’t even sound real. These things happen to other people, but not Barrett and I. It seems too wild, too ridiculous, and even though I saw the texts, I’m still second-guessing myself. Did I really see what I saw?

“She sent a topless picture to Bowen.”

Colson’s silent for a few moments, letting my words sink in, “Does that sound like something she would do?”

“What do you mean?”

“Does that sound like something she would do?” he repeats, but slower.

“Of course not, but that doesn’t matter, does it? I saw the picture and the texts,” I shake my head, feeling worse by the second, so I change the subject, “Tell me about your tattoos. You didn’t have them back in college.”

Colson looks down at the web of stars and lines that wrap around his left wrist and stretch up his arm until they disappear beneath the sleeve of his shirt, “You might not know this, but it’s easier to find your direction by the stars than a compass. These are all the constellations you can see in the northern sky.” He stops and motions for me to come closer. When I do, he turns me so the sun is on my left and I’m facing north, “You won’t be able to see all of them here because of the light pollution, but when it gets dark,” he stretches his arm over my shoulder and raises his hand, “these are the stars that you’ll see.”

“Wouldn’t the sky be different here than it is in Alaska?” I point out.

“Yes, but it’s not the sky in Alaska,” he lets his arm sink back to his side, “it’s the sky here, so I could find you again.”

I draw in a sharp breath, staring at his tattooed arm in astonishment. How can someone be that consumed by another person, someone they haven’t seen for years because the last time they did ended so horribly? How could he dwell on something—on me—for that long?

As if I can talk…

After a few moments, a smile creeps across my face, “What if I wasn’t here?” I turn to Colson, “What if I moved away and never came back?”

“Brett,” he cracks a smile, “I’ve tracked animals that evolved to survive where people can’t, I’ve found people who are lost deep in the wilderness where humans have never been—on mountaintops, in crevasses, hidden beneath dense forests a hundred miles from civilization. You think it would be hard for me to find you?”

“OK,” I concede, then point to his right arm, “then what do you need the compass for?”

Colson glances down at the inside of his arm where the sharp, black, four-tipped star points north toward his elbow and south toward his wrist.

His lucent eyes shift back to me, “In case it’s cloudy.”

I hesitate for a moment, dumbfounded, then a sudden whoop of laughter bursts from my mouth and echoes through the trees. It’s so loud and vibrant, it doesn’t even sound like my voice, and it doesn’t stop. I keep laughing as I stagger around the path. I don’t remember the last time I laughed like this.

---