He’d asked for permission, though his voice was sure and steady as if it’d been a command. I nodded, offering Tucker an apologizing smile as Anderson pulled me away. He led me toward the tower, and an older couple smiled at us as they reached the bottom stair. We pulled to the side, letting them pass, and then Anderson touched the small of my back, guiding me up.
He didn’t say a word as we climbed, and every time I was sure we had reached the top, we turned to find more stairs waiting. I was completely out of breath, calves even more on fire than before, my breaths coming hard and loud from my lips. But when we finally climbed the last stair and made it to the top of the tower, complaining was the last thing on my mind once I looked up.
It was breathtaking.
There were no better words to describe it. Quite literally, my breath was stolen by the sight of the rolling mountains, green and fresh, by the river running, strong yet fluid. From the top of the tower, I could see everything—it was a complete three-sixty view of the beautiful Pacific Northwest. Eagles soared in the distance, a slight breeze rolled up over the hiking trail and up through my hair, and a spark of chills covered my arms. I couldn’t speak, just walked slowly forward until my arms rested on the wooden railing. I was tempted to reach for my phone to take photos, but I knew I couldn’t capture what it felt like to stand at the top of Haybrook Lookout Tower. It would have been impossible, so I just tried to live in the moment, instead.
The mountains we’d just climbed, the ones closest to us, were lush with summery green trees. The mountains that lay behind them were clouded in a light fog, shaded by the sun and clouds as they moved together over the scenery. At the very tops of the highest ones, faint patches of snow still clung as tightly as they could, trying to withstand the warmth of July. The day after tomorrow would be the fourth, Independence Day, and I’d never felt so connected to that holiday as I did in that very moment.
Anderson stood behind me, and though I felt him there it was only faintly. It was as if he knew that I needed a moment to myself, so he stayed back, and my eyes scanned the vast wilderness before us.
It’s difficult to explain what happened to me on top of that tower.
I felt the sun’s warmth sink into my shoulders, heard the quiet whisper of my breath as it left my chest, smelled the fresh pine riding on every wave of the wind. It was sensory overload, and before I could stop it, tears welled in my eyes and fell silently down my cheeks, dropping with a pat against my sneakers.
I felt free.
Free from the pain I’d inflicted on myself, free from the judgment of others, free from the inexhaustible expectations of my ex-husband. I didn’t know how long my life would be, or who I would touch while I walked this Earth, but I did know I had spent way too much time living a life that didn’t make me happy—not truly, not in the way where happiness flowed through and out of me.
But now, I had a fresh start, a new beginning—and I vowed to never spend another moment being dishonest with myself. It may have been easier to do so, more comfortable and judge-free, but it didn’t serve me.
I was ready to live again.
Or maybe it was for the first time ever.
And it was then that I realized that though I was bruised, and maybe a little fractured, I was not broken.
I wasn’t sure how long I stood there, crying softly and silently as I tried to fully understand how small my problems really were and yet how large my life could be. But after a while, Anderson’s warm hands found the sliver of exposed skin on my hip and I turned into his touch, into him, wrapping my arms around his neck and stepping closer as I faced him.
And then my heart stopped.
Because his cheeks were damp, too.
“I’m sorry,” he croaked out, leaning into me, his head dipping as it met mine. He kept his eyes closed, breathing as steadily as he could, and I ran my hands back through his hair to soothe him.
“It’s okay, Anderson. You’ve been sick.”
We both knew it was a lie now. He’d never been sick, but something had been infecting him all the same. It was the demon of his past, the dark ghost that encompassed all the thoughts he’d never speak out loud. Whatever the reason, he’d needed to stay away from me, and I understood.
Anderson winced, his hands gripping my hips hard as he pulled me closer and pressed his lips to mine. It was the final spark to my already over-stimulated senses and my knees buckled at the touch. He caught me easily, holding me tight against him, my feet just barely touching the ground as he kissed me with an intention so pure and powerful I knew I’d never experience it again—not in all my life.
It was one of those singular moments, the ones that tattoo themselves on our hearts, embed themselves under our skin and further down still until they exist as part of our blood stream. They connect to our hearts, our brains, our organs that we rely on, and in turn they become a very source of life, themselves.
The kiss I shared with Anderson on top of Haybrook Tower wasn’t a kiss at all—it was a state of awakening.
For the first time in my life, I was completely aware of my existence. I felt my heart beating, pumping blood, pushing me forward despite the inadequacy and thoughts of failure that had been trying so desperately to cripple me.
I was alive. I was okay.
And I knew I’d never be the same again.
I went back to Wren’s cabin with her after the hike. There was no other option, we both knew it, because something had happened at the top of Haybrook Tower. I didn’t have words for it, neither did she, but then again, words weren’t necessary now.
She kicked off her shoes by the door, dropping her small backpack, and I simply stripped my shirt up and over my head and let it fall on her bottom stair before I started making my way up. My shorts came next, left abandoned at the top of the stairs, and I smirked when I looked down to find Wren following suit. I let myself watch her peel her still-damp tank top off and toss it over the railing before I ducked into her bathroom.
It turned out trying to ignore my feelings for Wren was impossible. Sarah had been in my head, her words on a constant repeat telling me I was stupid for opening myself to Wren. But seeing Wren today had reminded me that we both knew what we were getting ourselves into. No, I didn’t have the answers for what would happen at the end of the summer, but I knew I didn’t want to waste the time I did have with her.
And when I’d seen Tucker with her, something inside me had snapped. I didn’t have a right to feel possessive over her, but it didn’t change the fact that I did. So I’d lea her up to the top of the tower, mostly because I wanted her alone.
I couldn’t have known what would happen up there.