5
LILA
My ankle is better.
I test it cautiously as I stand by the bedroom window, watching dawn break over the mountains. There's still pain, but it's manageable. I can put weight on it without wanting to scream.
Which means I can leave.
The thought should fill me with relief. Five days stranded in a rustic cabin with minimal amenities and a grumpy mountain man isn't exactly the wilderness retreat I signed up for.
Instead, I feel a strange hollowness in my chest.
I grab the crutch Caleb made me—though I probably don't need it anymore—and make my way to the main room. He's already up, of course. I've yet to beat him to consciousness, no matter how early I wake.
"Morning," I say, watching him at the stove.
He turns, eyes immediately dropping to my ankle, noticing my improved gait. "Better?"
"Much better." I set the crutch aside, balancing without it. "Almost good as new."
Something flickers across his face—so brief I almost miss it. Disappointment? Surely not.
"Radio's back up," he says, returning to his cooking. "Ranger station says the road to town cleared yesterday. They can send someone up today."
"Oh." I should be thrilled by this news. Freedom. Civilization. Cell service. "That's... great."
He sets a mug of coffee on the table, avoiding my eyes. "Should be able to reach your retreat place by nightfall, if that's still your plan."
Is it still my plan? Five days ago, it was all I could think about—getting back on track, joining my wilderness group, continuing my journey of self-discovery or whatever I was calling it.
Now, the thought of awkward group activities and forced bonding with strangers holds zero appeal.
"Actually..." I take a seat, curling my hands around the warm mug. "I might skip the retreat."
He glances up, surprise evident. "Thought that was the whole point of coming up here."
I shrug, suddenly self-conscious. "It was. But I'm not sure it's what I need anymore."
"What do you need?" His voice is low, neutral, but there's something in his eyes that makes my heart beat faster.
What do I need? I need to stop making decisions based on proving my ex wrong. I need to figure out what I really want, not what I think I should want. I need...
I look at Caleb standing there in his cabin, solid and real in a way so few things in my life have been lately.
"I'm still figuring that out," I admit.
He nods like he understands, then brings over plates of eggs and bread toasted on the woodstove. We eat in companionable silence, our routine familiar now after days together.
"There's a McKenna family barbecue tonight," he says suddenly, staring down at his plate. "At my cousin Sawyer's place in town."
I blink, surprised by the non-sequitur. "That's nice?"
"You could..." He stops, clears his throat. "If you want a ride to town, I'm heading that way."
It takes me a moment to realize what he's offering. "Are you inviting me to your family barbecue?"
"Just offering a ride," he says quickly, but the faint color in his cheeks tells a different story.
