Page 60 of The 7 Rules of Moving On
Ryan reached out, wrapping his fingers around Trig’s wrist. “Go there? To Seattle? But you love it here.”
Hooking his hand around Ryan’s neck, pulling him close enough that their foreheads touched, Trig said, “I love her more. Take care of Mystic for me.”
* * *
By the timeTrig reached the Washington state line, the snow was blinding, a complete whiteout. He wanted nothing more than to get to Seattle tonight, to find Kissie, but cars were sliding off the road, trucks hunched along the shoulder with their hazards blinking.
He had to pull off.
In the distance, there was a flashing light. When his truck inched closer, he realized it was a sign with an arrow made of red neon lights alternating between the words ‘Larry’s Motel’ and ‘Vacancy’.
Pulling off onto the exit, Trig drove at a turtle’s pace up the drive to the motel, his wipers thunking back and forth but doing almost nothing against the onslaught of flakes blowing across his windshield. He parked in what he could only hope was a spot, threw up the hood of his coat, and braced himself against the howling wind and freezing snow while he stumbled toward the front door.
Pulling off his hood, shaking snow out of his hair, stomping it off his boots, Trig took his place in line behind the person already at the counter.
“Sorry for your trouble, pal,” said the thickly-bearded, barrel-chested man behind the counter. Well over six feet tall and big as a house, the man looked like he’d just stepped off a fishing boat in Alaska. The plastic nametag pinned to his flannel shirt read ‘Larry.’
“I just sold our last room,” Larry explained. “To this young woman right here, in fact.”
The smile Larry flashed him, friendly enough but with a crafty edge to it, reminded Trig a little too much of the grin the bear had given him. But when the woman at the counter turned around, pulling back her hood, Trig couldn’t have cared less if Larry had turned into the bear right then and there. He could only stare, stunned nearly speechless.
“Kissie?”
“Trig?”
“You two know each other?” Larry asked, glancing back and forth between them.
“What are you doing here?” Kissie asked, wide-eyed and a little breathless.
The sight of her, her pink cheeks, eyes rimmed in red, threatened to send him to the floor. “I was coming to find you.”
“You were?”
He took a hesitant step toward her. “I was.”
“Why?”
“Because I love you.”
“Well, ain’t that sweet,” Larry drawled, leaning forward onto his counter, as riveted as if he was watching a movie instead of Trig’s attempt to pour his heart out.
“Larry, could you give us a moment?” Trig asked. He didn’t want to be rude to the man in his own hotel, but he also didn’t necessarily want an audience right now.
“I can give you as many moments as you need,” Larry replied cryptically, winking at Trig before he ducked into the room behind the counter.
Turning back to Kissie, who was still staring at him, her eyes as round and blue as the moon, Trig tried again. “I thought I knew what love was. I thought I knew what home meant before I met you. But I didn’t. I had no idea. And instead of telling you how important you were to me, I yelled at you. Instead of listening to you, I accused you of doing something I knew you’d never do. I am so sorry, Kissie.”
Her hands started to tremble at her sides, but she didn’t say a word.
“I asked you to stay with me because I am in love with you. But I realize now how selfish that was. What I should have said was that I wanted to be with you, wherever that was. Whether we’re in Twin Hearts or Seattle or on fucking Mars, I want to be with you. You are home, Kissie. You are my home.”
She still only stood there, silent.
“Please, Kissie. Please give me a chance.”
“I turned around,” she whispered. “I’d almost made it to Seattle. I could see the skyline, but I turned around.”
“You did?”
