Page 35 of Saved By the Mountain Man

Rae deserved so much better.

Like you, who left her?the tiny voice at the back of my mind asked.

“You don’t have to go, you know.” The words tumbled out of my mouth before I could stop them.

“It’s better I do,” she said, turning to me, her arms crossed over her chest. Shutting me out. “We can’t change the past, Tanner. It is what it is. We were something, but that’s over, and now… it’s better we go our separate ways.”

The words stung. I hated that she wanted to leave.

And I hated that she had every right to.

When I woke up the next morning in the bed we’d shared after we’d slept together, she wasn’t in it. The blankets were cold—she’d been up for a while.

Cold fingers clutched my heart—what if she’d already left without saying goodbye?

You don’t deserve anything else.

Besides, it wasn’t like she would leave Silver Ridge, right? She’d just go back to her cabin… I would still see her around.

I got up, pulled on pants and a shirt before shrugging on my jacket. When I walked into the front room of the cabin, the fireplace had died down to only embers.

Rae stood in front of the large window that overlooked the mountainside, a fur blanket wrapped around her shoulders in the cold.

The tightness in my chest unwound when I realized she was still there.

“You’re up early,” I said.

“I couldn’t sleep.”

I nodded and put more logs on the fire, bringing it back to life. The weather had become drastically colder over the last few days, signs that winter was almost at our doorstep.

“Can I ask you something?” Her voice was so soft I barely heard her.

“Sure.”

“Why did you leave?”

The question caught me off guard, and I froze. I was made of guilt and shame.

“It’s… complicated,” I said slowly.

She turned her head, looked at me over her shoulder. Her eyes were deep, filled with questions.

“More complicated than giving up everything we had? Or did I get it wrong? Was I more invested than you were and you couldn’t just tell me?”

The pain in her eyes was a stake to the heart. Fuck, if she was hurting, how the hell could I ever justify that? She was the beat of my heart and if she was in pain, I was in pain.

I wanted to tell her the truth. That I had to leave to protect her. But if she asked me from what, I would have to either lie to her—which I’d been doing all this time anyway—or I’d have to tell her the truth.

And if I told her the truth, that I’d killed a child, she would see me for the monster I really was.

“I didn’t know how to break things off,” I lied. “I guess I handled it wrong, but at the time, it seemed better that way.”

She shook her head, confused.

“You really didn’t want me anymore?”

Fuck, if she could look any more pained, I would die. I hated what I was doing to her. But I had to look after her, keep protecting her. Not from my boss and his men anymore, but from myself.

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