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It flaps hard, runs off the edge, and as it disappears, I yell out, and peer down.

I see it streak down, and slowly, it spreads its wide wings. They catch, and the falcon swoops up, away from the ground. I smile as it banks over Central Park, and it cries out, and slices through the air.

As I leap up next to the giant stone eagle, I spill half my whiskey. I then watch the falcon bank around in the light.

The golden rays kiss its feathers, and the bird cries out and climbs high. It then sweeps past me before streaking away. I am convinced it will never return, and I am happy for it. It will now be able to live, and it will also be able to find its tribe.

It will be forever free.

After an hour, I drop down, and I head for the door. Part of me is sad, but overall, I feel good. It had to be done.

Just before I walk inside, the Peregrine swoops down, and it lands with a woosh.

I have no idea what the heck it’s thinking, but it is welcome to stay, as long as it wants.

Over the next two days, I keep feeding it, and the falcon flies off for an hour at a time. We continue spending sunsets on the roof, and it’s becoming a thing.

I try to work out the perfect way to get Storm back, and I try to understand how much space she needs. Both do my head in, so I make Falcon’s dinner, and I watch him have his raw meat.

I think of Storm, again, and I get frustrated as hell. I don’t know how much Falcon misses the woman that saved his life.

All I know is, I do, becauseshe’d saved mine too.

43

STORM

I drive the rental into my small South Carolina hometown. I have mixed feelings about being back, but it is what it is. After pulling into the old cemetery, that looks over the river, I park up. I park where I’ve always parked, and it somehow feels comforting.

I gather courage, and I walk to my father’s resting place. I pace for a while, and I finally get myself to sit.

I tell dad a few things, and I let go. I sob, and I tell him I messed up. I also tell him, I’m back home.

For how long, I have no idea, but maybe, just maybe forever.

I tell him, I’m a screw up, and I ask him who I was trying to kid. And who did I really think I was? To think, little old me was enough?

Enough for a sophisticated, and worldly guy like him. As if I was anything alongside those tall statuesque, perfect, women.

Deep down, I know, I’m a small-town girl, with curves, and who likes to read. I had attached a few wild, and fun hobbies, but I am simple, uncomplicated, and normal.

I am not a perfect diamond.

I am a normal girl from South Carolina, and you know what. Screw it! I am proud to be who I am.

I exhale long and hard, and I look into the beautiful mountains. It’s starting to feel alright. These are my people, and I am there’s. They will accept me back, and I will rebuild a life here.

Maybe in the hills in a cabin, and with a dog, maybe a horse, and my design clients.

I do not need gowns. I do not need jets. I do not need to worry about women taking a man from me. And I do not need all those fancy things like champagne, galas, and parties.

After drivingto my mom’s place, and the home I’d grown up in, I sit outside for a few minutes.

I work out what to say, and I tell myself to keep it together. Finally, I suck in a long breath, and I walk to the front door.

It feels weird to be back, but I have to do it.

Mom opens the door, and double blinks. Then, as always, with her cheery self, she opens her arms. “Oh, darling!”