Page 70 of Off the Beaten Path

“Mia said she wants to be a part of June’s life more,” Holden says, and warring emotions battle for precedence in my mind. On one hand, I’m so glad for June. Yet another part of me is mourning the little taste I got of life with the two of them.

“How do you feel about that?” I ask, unable to read the tone of his voice. It’s been so long since that’s happened, and I don’t like that either. I wish I was on his couch, his body warm against mine, instead of alone in the chilly darkness of my car on a back road in the woods.

He sighs again, a long, tired sound that makes me want to pull him close, massage the spot between his neck and shoulders that gets tight after a strenuous day of work. “I’m not really sure,” he says finally. “I want her to be telling the truth, but I don’t know if I can trust it. And I don’t want her to drag June along again.”

I make a humming noise in the back of my throat, acknowledging his feelings but allowing him to continue.

After a moment, he says, “She seemed sincere. More so than I’ve ever seen her.”

“You’ve always done what’s best for June, Holden. I have no doubt you’ll be able to figure out what’s best for her now.”

Holden’s silent for a long time, and I want to ask him where he’s at, what he’s doing. Where Mia is.

“You never give me advice,” he says finally, and it takes me off guard.

“Do you want my advice?”

“Actually, I wouldn’t mind it. But I like that you don’t just give me your opinion without asking, that you give me time to figure things out for myself. You never try to explain my feelings to me.” He clears his throat, as if the verbal dumping made him uncomfortable, and I have to wonder how often he says the things he’s actually thinking out loud. Not his reactionary thoughts, but the emotions deep down.

“I think you’re perfectly capable of explaining your feelings on your own,” I say softly. “You don’t need me to do it for you.”

He’s so quiet that I pull the phone away from my face to make sure he hasn’t hung up. But he’s still there, the seconds passing by on the darkened call screen. Finally he says, “No one has ever made me feel the way I do for you, Red.”

Maybe it’s the insecurity of seeing Mia, of seeing the three of them together, but the words slip out before I can think better of them. “Not even Mia?”

Heat steals up my chest and into my cheeks, and I want to snatch that question back, stuff it into the recesses of my mind where it should have stayed.

But Holden just laughs, that deep sound that I’ve come to love so much, that becomes less and less rare as the days go on. “Definitely not Mia.”

“Can I ask you a question?” I ask, not hesitating so I don’t chicken out.

“Yeah, Red,” he says. “You can ask me anything.”

“Why did you marry her?”

Holden sighs, sounding tired, and I almost feel bad for asking. But I have to know. “She was pregnant. It seemed like the right thing to do. Looking back now, I realize we all would have been a lot happier if we hadn’t forced it. Marriage is a lot more than duty.”

I’m quiet for a moment, then ask, “Have you figured out what it should be?”

“Commitment. Selflessness. The kind of love that feels like you’re missing a limb when you’re not with your person.” He pauses, clearing his throat. “It was never like that with her.”

His words settle down in my soul, where the ache of missing him is strongest.

“Wren, about earlier, why did you—”

A knock on my window jars me out of my call with Holden. I turn to see Stevie there, her long, wavy brown hair piled atop her head in a messy bun, a chunky cardigan pulled over a faded cropped tank, and soft-looking baggy pants covering her legs.

“Holden, I’ve got to go,” I say into the phone. “I’m at Stevie’s.”

“Okay, Red,” he says. “Talk to you tomorrow?”

“Talk to you tomorrow.”

It’s not until we’ve hung up that I realize I never asked how long Mia would be around, what it would look like for us with her here.

My car door squeals as I open it. Stevie scrunches her nose as I climb out, tugging her sweater closed against the slight chill in the air. “What are you doing out here?”

“That was Holden,” I tell her, and she raises her eyebrows.

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