Page 36 of Saved By the Mountain Man

“It wasn’t that I didn’t want you,” I said. “I just didn’t see a future, and, well, it was time to move on.”

Fuck, the words had come out horribly wrong. It sounded like I was a complete asshole.

Which you are.

Rae’s eyes hardened, and she rolled her lips. If she was close to tears, she’d become a pro at hiding it. I used to be able to tell even when the rest of the world couldn’t.

But I didn’t have the privilege of seeing who she was on the inside anymore, and she’d learned to wear her mask so well she could keep me out, too.

“I have to go,” she said.

“Let me walk you—”

“Don’t, Tanner.” The coldness in her voice made me shiver. “I’ll be fine without you.”

Those words cut deep, and when she walked past me, I let her go.

She came from the room a short while later, dressed in the clothes she’d arrived in. She’d worn my clothes until now, and I’d loved seeing her in them. And seeing her out of them. I’d loved undressing her, relearning her curves, connecting with her again.

But I was shut out now.

“Thanks for helping me, letting me stay,” she said. “I appreciate it.”

“You’re always welcome,” I said just the way I’d said it the first time, but this time, I could see in her eyes she didn’t believe me.

And why should she? I was a complete asshole, I’d been a real dick, and I’d severed whatever warmth and connection we’d built over the past few days with one sentence.

She stepped outside, and my heart ached.

Frustration surged inside me, and I struggled to keep my voice calm. “Rae.” I called her back. She turned and looked at me, her face expressionless. “Are you going to be okay?”

“I’ll be fine.”

I shook my head. “I mean with… your thing. The reason you’re here. Are you going to be safe?”

She tilted her head a little. “I don’t see why you would care.”

With that, she turned around and walked away from me, making her way down the mountain.

I stayed behind, watching her go, until she disappeared between the trees.

I was standing on the edge of a cliff, staring into an abyss of emotions I wasn’t ready to face. The cabin, once a sanctuary, now felt hollow and stifling, the walls closing in around me, and I was painfully aware that she was gone.

I couldn’t stay inside. I needed to move, to do something physical to channel the storm raging within. I stormed out of the cabin and between the trees. The cold did nothing to calm the fire in my chest.

I made my way to the woodpile, hoping it would help to do something. The winter was still coming, I still had to prepare. The familiar rhythm of chopping wood offered a small measure of comfort. Each swing of the axe was a release, the physical exertion giving me something tangible to focus on, but her face, her eyes, her words wouldn’t leave me alone. The sharp crack of wood splitting echoed through the quiet forest, punctuating the silence with each blow and in my mind’s eye, I felt her pain as if the axe was biting into her instead.

Fuck!

No matter how many logs I split, the turmoil inside me didn’t fade. I’d lost Rae all over again; the fragile bond we were rebuilding had shattered with my words. The more I’d tried to protect her, the more I’d lost her. The fear and frustration shehad shown, the secrets she still held onto, it all cut deeper than my axe into the wood, and damn it, I was a lost cause.

I threw the axe down, the handle hitting the ground with a dull thud. My breath came in ragged gasps, the cold air burning my lungs. I leaned against the chopping block.

I’d come to these mountains to escape, to find peace, but instead, I was right back where I started—caught in a web of emotions and regrets that I couldn’t untangle.

I sank to the ground, my back against the chopping block, and buried my face in my hands. The memories of our past, the good times and the bad, played like a cruel movie in my mind. I still heard the way Rae used to laugh, felt the way she’d made me feel alive in a way no one else ever had. And now, the hollowness inside me after I’d lost her, the echo that went on forever.

“Fuck it.” I swore again, the frustration and pain boiling over. I wanted to fix things, to make everything right, but I didn’t know how. It wasn’t like I could change the past, change what I did. She didn’t deserve someone like me in her life. She deserved more, better.

---