Page 102 of An Unfinished Memory

One problem that had been solved. “Eliot said the new guy is doing really well.”

She rose on her tiptoes and kissed me. “I’m not getting my hopes up, Wilder. If we have a free day, we’ll try to hook up. I’ll call you when I get home.”

Home. A home that wasn’t fucking here.

I walked her to her pickup. The condensation from our breaths mingled between us in the cold air.

She opened the driver’s door and smiled up at me. The distance was back in her eyes. “I’ll take a lot of pictures on my trip if you can’t make it.”

“I have two months to figure something out.” I placed a kiss on her lips and deepened it until a shiver ran through her body. Since it was probably from the temperature and not me, I loaded her into the toasty cab.

I hung in the open door. I couldn’t let her leave like this. If she didn’t talk to me, then we were doomed, and if we were over, then the sacrifices we had made were for nothing. “What’d I say? Friday night when you arrived. What’d I say to make you go quiet?”

She opened her mouth, closed it, then ran her lower lip through her teeth. “You asked if we’d still be doing this in fifty years.”

The wind racing behind me wasn’t the reason for my chill. “You don’t think so?”

“Ten years? Twenty? How long will this work?” She twisted her hands together. “I don’t know. It made me wonder if we were better left as an unfinished memory.”

An unfinished memory was the best way to describe why the divorce had felt so wrong. Like I’d taken a wrong turn and didn’t know how to get back, and every road led back to the same incorrect spot. “If I believe that, then it means we’re over, and that’s unacceptable.”

“Unacceptable? Or unavoidable?”

“Lots of couples manage. Military.” Austen hadn’t had high recommendations based on what he’d seen during his time in the Army, but I sure as shit wasn’t going to mention that right now. “Oil fieldworkers. Railroad crew.”

Her hands were still on me, but she was wearing her gloves. The distance the material created might as well be as thick as a mountain range. I saw the question in the warm depths of her gray eyes.For decades?

I didn’t have an answer for her.

Twenty-Four

Wilder

The date taunted me. Sun shone through the window. The start to spring had been irritatingly mild, and the daily temperatures had been unseasonably warm. No freezing rain to shut down roads. No winter blizzards in the forecast to make people prepare to hunker down. Nothing but gorgeous days for the next two weeks.

Perfect for a spring camping trip. Starting tomorrow. On April 16.

I glared out the window. She’d be leaving tomorrow. All alone. She and that camper with the boxed-in bed. My dog. And no one else. To make matters worse, we hadn’t been able to see each other for two months.

“Wilder?” Ray’s voice cut through my ruminations. We were at his retirement party. His time with the Murphy County Sheriff’s Office was almost over, but as per usual, he wanted to meet with me after the party. To go over more items. One last time.

We’d been through a lot of last times.

I’d be sworn in at nine a.m. Ray had wanted everyone fresh-faced and in attendance. Tomorrow would be a big day. Huge.

Yes, that date echoed through my head. April 16.

He ducked his head, concern knitting his bushy brows together.

“Yeah? Sorry, what?”

He shook his head. “I thought I lost you there.”

“No, uh…” I had to get his attention off me. He’d ask if I was nervous, and that’d draw out hisone last thingeven longer. “Nice turnout, huh?”

Ray nodded like how many people showed didn’t matter. “Free food. Always gets them.”

Except all the dispatchers who weren’t working had come in. Same with the other deputies. Even the ones out on patrol had stopped in. Jeremy Miller had brought his twins over and joked that we didn’t even have to tow a car for him. Teachers, and Annie, the school librarian, roamed around the city hall conference room.

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