Page 85 of Forever Wild

Eventually, Izzy falls back behind, stopping to take a close-up of a lizard along the path, a photo that I’m sure will never make it off her phone because, as much as she loves taking the pictures, they are actually very mediocre, and Izzy has no use for them.

I, unfortunately, have no such distraction. Instead, my mind focuses in stark clarity on my current situation. I’m in love with a man who I will never be good enough for. Once he finally calls me—and let’s be honest, I know he’s going to call me at some point and explain why he’s been out of touch for days—I’m going to have to break both of our hearts.

He may be the one person in this world who makes me feel like I’m worth it, and if he were any other guy, we could make it work, but I can’t do famous. I won’t quit my job so I can spend my days supporting my husband, and if I miraculously win this promotion, I’m going to have to be at headquarters much more frequently. And, while I know Jameson would never ask me to give that up for him, I also know how naïve that truly is. He is going to get back to the top of the golf world. He is going to have major deals and win all the big tournaments. He is on the road constantly. I’m going to be working all the time. What kind of relationship is that?

But even the thought of losing him is sending shockwaves of grief into my heart. It’s like Jameson currently fills each groove, each capillary, and the thought of removing him is enough to trigger a full eruption of heartbreak.

The sight of the parking lot ahead of me pulls me from my melancholy, and my heart is shocked into action by the buzzing coming from Kelsey’s pocket.

“Finally,” she grouses, pulling out her phone as we reach the flat expanse of trail leading to our car.

Glancing back to find Izzy, who, despite her stops, managed to stay fairly close behind us, I ask Kelsey the question I’m not sure I want to know the answer to. “Did Lila get back to you?”

Kelsey doesn’t stop or turn around to answer me, and I’m about to ask again when she turns, shouting over her shoulder, “Hurry up, Iz. I know where Jameson is!”

“Where is he?” I ask, doing a shit job of hiding the desperation in my voice.

Kelsey is already on the move again, making her way quickly down to my car. “Some bar I guess.”

“Do you”—I start but can’t seem to finish the sentence, to get the question out that will make this all real.

“Know where it is?” she finishes for me, and I can sense the unseen eyebrow raise that accompanied the question. “Lila is there with him now and sent me a pin. It’s about thirty minutes away.”

Izzy catches up to us, panting slightly from her jog to catch up. “I hate hiking. Walking I can get behind, but why do we need to make it harder by adding the constant uphill climb?”

“Because without the climb, you never get to see the view from the top. There’s no reward for all your work,” I respond with the answer I give her every time she asks this question.

“So where is he?” Izzy asks, draining the last of her water bottle before pulling open the car door and sliding into the back seat.

Kelsey sinks into the passenger seat and finishes sending a message on her phone before answering, “Some bar in town. Bryn, I just texted you the address so you can have the car direct you.”

I pull up her message and select the bar as our destination before putting the car into gear and maneuvering around a rusty pickup that had parked far too close to my Tesla for my liking.

Following the directions to get back to the main highway takes the majority of my attention, but as I merge into traffic, I can feel the pressure of the upcoming conversation building, not just within me, but in my sisters too.

Izzy breaks the silence, leaning forward so her head is between the seats, asking the question that has been floating through my head since the article was released, “What are you going to do?” She pauses but continues before I can answer, “I mean, what are you going to say when you see him?” She flops back into her seat. “Ugh. Why am I nervous?”

Kelsey shoots our sister a look of exasperation before turning to me. “She may be overly dramatizing this, but she is right. You need a plan.”

“What do you mean?” I ask, glancing over my shoulder before switching lanes.

“What are you going to say to Jameson when you see him? Are you dumping him? Are you questioning him about how that article came to exist? Are you begging him to stay with you? Are you poisoning his drink?”

“Ew. I’m obviously not begging him to stay with me. The rest are all still on the table,” I joke.

“Good.” I catch Izzy nodding from the corner of my eye. “I’m personally in favor of junk punching him and walking away. Though, I could be persuaded that you should start by asking him where the fuck he’s been the last day and then moving to junk punching if the answer doesn’t meet a certain set of standards.”

I roll my eyes. “Oh, and who will be evaluating said answers?” I tease. “And while we are on the subject, should we be developing a rubric to ensure it’s fair?” My sister loves a good evaluative process—it’s one of her primary roles in the firm she and Becca own.

“We all know Kelsey is basically a human lie detector after all her military training. I suggest she be the primary, but you should probably be the one asking the questions to make sure we keep him as off-balance as possible.”

I’m not actually sure if she’s joking or not. I think she is, but there is enough of an edge to her voice that she might be serious. Fortunately, I’m saved from responding by Kelsey.

“They don’t just train all military personnel in interrogation, Iz. You’ve got to stop telling people things like that. I had someone call me the other day to ask if I could help them break into their ex-husband’s house to hotwire his car and interrogate his new wife about the whereabouts of a very expensive necklace. I literally hung up on her. It was so outrageous.”

“Or that’s just your cover so we won’t know it was you when the news reports an eerily similar story,” Iz shoots back.

“Regardless.” I jump in. “I’m going to talk to him alone, so no ninja skills needed by Kelsey.” Catching my sister’s scowl from the back seat, I add with a smirk, “Though I’m sure she would’ve loved to have a warm-up before her interrogation of Wife Number Two next week.”

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