Page 196 of The Professor's Wife

“Thanks.”

Returning to the pump, I filled the tank, hands shaking more than I liked. I couldn’t shake the strange feeling in my bones. Something didn’t feel right. Daisy’s dream ran through my mind, and the strange intrusive thought that followed. I shook my head again.

It was just a dream.

The air smelled like dust and diesel. The morning wind tugged at my shirt. The town was quiet, not a person in sight. I kept my head down, hoping no one saw us as more than just passing through. I didn’t feel like engaging. The small talk with the old attendant took it out of me.

When I got back in, Daisy was staring at the sunrise. “Are we staying in this town?”

“Somewhere around here,” I said, pulling out the map from the glovebox. I unfolded it and searched for the park. “There’s a good spot we can take a breather at.”

“A breather?”

“Yeah.”

“No singing tonight?”

I shook my head. “Fuck no, we’re putting a pause on all that.”

She looked at me then, like she was reading all the things I hadn’t said. “Laying low so he doesn’t find us?”

“If it were up to me, I wouldn’t be laying low,” I admitted. “I’d be turning back and facing him.” I looked at her then and offered her a weak smile. “But I don’t want you looking over your shoulder, worrying. This isn’t about me. You need to breathe, and I want to give you all the time in the world for that.”

She let out a shaky breath. “I’d like that.”

After I found the directions, I handed her the map and took her hand. I slowly led her index finger along the map to our next destination, staring at her intently. Her doe eyes met mine, a silent tear threatening to escape one eye.

“Wherever you go, I follow,” I whispered. “We’re in this together.”

Her smile was wobbly, but it met her glistening eyes. My body weakened at her beauty, even shrouded in sadness she was the most breathtaking woman I’d ever seen.

And she was mine.

Within the hour, we found the hidden pull-off near a broken trailhead. I parked beneath a stand of mature pines, the van swallowed by shade. No other cars. No campers. No eyes. It was the kind of place we might be invisible in for a while.

She climbed out with a soft groan and stretched, arms to the sky. “It’s nice to be alone, like we were at the start.”

“Yeah, we let the noise in,” I said, slamming the door. “Now it’s out. Just you and me and this mountain. For now, that’s all we’ve got.”

And that was the truth. We were running, and maybe we’d always be running from something. I didn’t like the thought. I didn’t want us burdened by our past, like we would always be shackled to it.

But for today, we could pretend it didn’t exist. For today, I could hold her hand on a trail, instead of gripping the wheel and fantasizing about vengeance.

The rage would still be there tomorrow. But so would she. And I’d take that trade every time.

I made sandwiches and we hiked to a creek. We sat down and quietly ate. The sandwich sat like a stone in my stomach. I managed two bites before wrapping it back up. This girl dragged every good and bad feeling out of me.

I shut my eyes, exhausted by it. There was an ache behind them and a constant burn in my chest.

Gritting my teeth, I admitted, “When my dad died, I cashed out on my holidays and took off. The night I met you, I was getting ready to go back home. Was gonna call it quits early. Couldn’t stomach the thought of letting my dad go just yet. I’d already packed up. I was prepping to get back to work at the mines, and then on my return swing home, I was going to go to Ammonite Falls to scatter his ashes.”

She already knew this, but I needed to start from somewhere.

“I’m so sorry, Tristan,” she whispered.

I opened my eyes to look at her. “I am, too. He’d just retired, and that fucked with me, you know? You work your whole life, waiting for retirement, and now I’m thinking, well, fuck, you might not even live to make it.”

She nodded. “Feels a bit like slavery, doesn’t it?”