Page 48 of Entwined Hearts

“I wanted to come sooner,” Colby says, side-eyeing the group observing from the edge of the driveway. “Kabir said it was okay.”

Kabir’s dark eyes flash as if to ask permission, or maybe forgiveness.

“But if you don’t want…” Colby says.

“Nonsense,” Jo says, and I glare daggers.

Colby’s expression tightens. “I just…wanted to see you.” It’s said so low the others couldn’t have heard.

“Okay, now you have,” I say, my voice tight with hurt.

His eyes crimp around the edges.

“Why don’t you ride with Colby?” Kabir says, then opens his car door. Jo gets in on her side.

Marisa looks torn. She gives Colby a look of contempt, then turns to me. “You okay with this?” she asks.

I try to think, but my mind is spinning too fast.

I remember the night Kabir and Jo drove me home from Bishop.He’s got a lot on his plate right now, Kabir had said.

I give Marisa a nod, and she climbs into the Subaru. When it pulls away from the curb, I can feel her watching me.

“I wasn’t sure if this was a good idea, but I was in town,” Colby says. “Kabir made it seem like no big deal. I thought he’d asked you.”

I shake my head, but whatever. Seeing him was inevitable. Our Norway trip is six weeks away. And he said he’ll be in the Valley off and on. A part of me had even imagined us climbing together.

“Jeez, Anya,” Colby says, catching sight of my bandaged fingers. “What happened?”

I cross my arms, tucking my fingers into my armpits. “They’re just torn. It’s no big deal.”

“But it’s been two weeks since the Buttermilks.”

“Yeah,” I say.

His look of compassion hits me so deeply I have to look away. “I’m so sorry I didn’t show that night.”

“You already apologized.”

“My brother-in-law surprised us,” he says, his eyes on the ground.

“Look, I get it, okay,” I say. “Your family is important.”

He shuffles his feet. “It’s not…like that.” He runs a hand through his hair.

“Is it about Maddy?” I squeeze myself tighter.

He nods, but his face is tight. “Scott’s gone now,” he says.

I get the sense he’s not telling me everything, but I don’t push.

He cups the back of his neck, a mixed expression in his eyes. “Should we go?”

I nod, following him to his truck. Once inside the cab, I look through the windshield and say, “I’m going up Widow’s Walk.”

Colby’s hand pauses on the ignition. “Wow,” he says, eyeing me cautiously. “Anya, are you sure?”

I pick at my bandaged left thumb where the tail of the tape won’t stay down.

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