Page 56 of Entwined Hearts

“So… why Widow’s Walk?” he asks, his voice soft. “It got that name for a reason.”

A hiccup jolts my heart as I try to shift gears. “It’s a challenge,” I say. “It’ll help me get ready for Norway.” This is a stretch, I realize, but for whatever reason, I’m committed.

“Because of the rockfall? You know a huge chunk came off that route last spring.”

“Yeah, I know.”

“It’s dangerous,” he says.

I shrug. “So’s Dragen’s Tarn.”

“Nobody’s died on Dragen’s Tarn.”

A shiver of nerves zips through me. “I didFast and Furiouslast week with Marisa,” I say after a deep sigh. “And…I don’t know…that fear of the runout just sort of went away by the time I got there. It felt terrific, you know? Like I’d…overcome something important.”

“Is it because you want to climb it with Jake?” he asks, still stroking my hair.

I try to push away my feelings because they make my head feel painfully crammed. “We’re good partners.”

“That’s not what I asked.”

I chew on the edge of my lip, fighting the burning sensation building in my belly. “I didn’t think about it too hard. I got the idea, and I knew he’d do it with me.”

“There are a lot of climbs in the Valley that are just as hard, but not as dangerous.”

I smooth the edge of the sheet. “I need to prepare for Dragen’s Tarn. I’ve been too distracted lately. I’m not training hard enough.”

He shifts to look me in the eyes. “You train harder than anyone I know, Anya.”

I can’t hold his gaze. “Everything has to be perfect for Norway.”

A troubled look settles on his face. “That’s impossible. You know it won’t be. No big wall project ever is.”

“Well, this one has to be,” I say as a panicky feeling pushes up from my stomach, ramming into my lungs.

“So…Widow’s Walk will help?”

“When I’m climbing at my limit, everything else goes away,” I explain. “Including Morocco.”

His eyes tighten with compassion. He gently hugs me.

“I just…want it to go away,” I say. I thought time would help, but lately, it seems like it’s getting worse. “Someone gave me this flyer on PTSD after we got back. You know what it said?”

He releases me and tilts his head, waiting for my reply.

“Rhythmic activities can help. Dancing, running, swimming. It even specifically lists rock climbing.”

“I’m not sure they meant taking on impossible, deadly big wall climbs.”

I huff a frustrated sigh.

“I get it,” he says. “The military even has outdoor programs for veterans with PTSD.” He seems to get lost in a memory, but then he’s back. “But you can’t outclimb it or outrun it, Anya.”

He’s wrong, but I’m not going to try to convince him.

“Is there someone you can talk to? Marisa?” He swallows hard. “Jake?”

I shake my head. “He won’t talk about it.”

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