Page 70 of Mangled Memory
He shakes his head slowly.
“So someone tried to kill me?”
“I didn’t say that.” He closes some of the distance between us.
“What are my other options? I fell or I was pushed. A hawk didn’t pick me up to set me on a rock while I fumbled the dismount. I either fell or tripped. That would be on me. Or someone else was there and hurt me.”
He nods.Nothing more.Just a nod.
I step out of his hold and turn for the stairs. “I need to be alone.”
“Ayla.” It’s a plea on his lips.
I shake my head as I hit the landing and slide into my studio. Like I said, I need to be alone.
The blinds are drawn when I enter. The dimmer on the wall allows me to cut the harshness of the whites, and I slide to my butt and stare at the moose with the golden eyes who haunts the huge image before me.
An hour later I’m still on my ass, staring at the image. I’ve spent time focused on the mountains and the creek. I’ve studied the bark on the aspens. But it’s always that huge animal that brings me back.
I move to the desk, log into my computer, and find the raw images from last week. The eagle in flight, the ease with which he let the wind carry him. The gray sky sliced through with a single sunbeam. The evergreen fir below him laden with snow. The sky dissolving in the upper half of the canvas to white.
And one golden eye locked with mine as he banked. I’m positive it was unintentional. It’s not like animals everywhere stare at me. But I feel like there’s a oneness with both of these creatures.
One earthbound, one skyward.
One in the dark, the other in the light.
One from before. One from now.
Maybe there’s something for me to learn. Grounded in shadows, soaring into the unknown brightness.
If that’s not a metaphor for my life—for this injury—I don’t know what is.
And tonight, with the sun long set and the moon bright on the horizon, I can’t help but think that these two feel like the men in my life too. Stubborn, dangerous, a head-butter by nature, one who fights to the death and never shows its back. And the one who soars above the fray but has to choose to sacrifice beak and claws to reinvent itself to stay relevant. It nests high above the buzzards. The one who represents freedom.
And here I am, blown by the wind, between the two, drawn to the shadow when I know I should be chasing the light.
I am so lost in my thoughts that his voicestartles me. “Your talent never ceases to amaze me. How do you find these moments?”
“I’d love to say it’s skill, but ninety percent of it is showing up.”
“This—” He extends a palm to my screen. “Is far more than showing up.”
“Thanks. The ten percent sometimes is a showstopper.”
He leans in over my shoulder and sets a cup of coffee on my desk. “This image certainly is. What will you call it?”
I hadn’t thought about it, but since he asks, I probably should. “Good question. I don’t know.Freedom Flightmaybe? That’s not right. We’ll see.”
He moves to the sofa and takes the corner, not balancing on the edge, but settling in as if he’ll stay a while. “Princess, I’m angry.” He holds up a hand to preempt my interruption. “Please let me say this. For two years, I’ve had the most enviable life. I have everything a man could need and what most men could rarely hope for. It’s not the house, though I do like it. I have the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen for a wife. You’re smart, funny, talented…” He looks around the room.
“You’re sexy as fuck, fiery, feisty, and sharp-tongued. You challenge me when most women would cower. As cheesy as it sounds, you make me a better man. Not just because I want to be that for you and with you, but because together, we’re… I don’t know, beyond words.” He pauses and holds my eyes. “It’s one thing to accomplish your goals. It’s something else to watch the person you love achieve theirs. I’m living the best life anyone could dream or concoct. And three months ago, the rug was pulled out from underneath me.”
“I—”
“Please, baby, let me finish. I promise the floor’s yours after this.”
He waits for my acquiescence and continues, “The world flipped upside down the day of your accident. Yes, I’ll call it that. I can’t imagine you fell. And it’s unthinkable to me that you were pushed. Neither option is acceptable to me. And since youwon’t let me wrap you in bubble wrap or keep you naked in bed, which would be my preference between the two, I’m stuck in a position. On one hand, I love you more than my life itself and need you safe. On the other hand, I want you to have everything you desire. And, these days, that’s a war between what I want and what you want.”
