Chapter 24

Chapter Twenty-Four

Bess

I wasn’t prepared for what flooded my eardrums when Charlie tapped on his phone. I associated rich people with elevator music and classical orchestras—soothing tunes played at cocktail parties that signaled everything was okay. That the world wasn’t on fire, and it definitely wasn’t their fault.

What Charlie chose to play for me made no sense. It was rap, or something like it. Musically ambitious, sung in an English accent, incredibly fast-paced and most of all, challenging. After a moment, the infectious beat pulled me into the effortless rhymes, and my mind started paying attention to the lyrics.

The song detailed the tenets of business economics with brutal sarcasm, criticizing greed and capitalism. When it ended, I plucked the earphone out, simply staring at him. “Who is this?”

“Ren. He’s a Welsh singer songwriter.”

“A rapper?”

“Yeah, that too. He’s phenomenal. I discovered him a while back, before he made it big. I always knew he would.”

“He sounds amazing. But those lyrics. You…” Words escaped me. I couldn’t exactly tell him he wasn’t allowed to listen to anti-capitalist songs, but it made no sense. “Do you agree with the message?”

His face stretched into that infuriating, self-satisfied grin. “You mean his breakdown of business economics?” He cocked his head, dropping the smile. “I think he’s exaggerating for effect, but it’s pretty accurate. Humans are ruthless in their pursuit of power. That’s how the money game works.”

“But you’re playing the game,” I insisted. “You’re playing and winning.”

“Yeah. It doesn’t mean I think it’s all puppies and rainbows. And it doesn’t mean I agree with the system. The rich are getting richer and money sits in assets rather than boosting the economy. The game is rigged against everyone else but the top one percent.” He paused for a moment, meeting my eyes. “And I’m not talking about the rich in third person to exclude myself.”

“Why don’t you get out of the game, then?” I asked.

“Because I like money. I like security. I know I’d be far more stressed without it.”

“But… you can’t be both. You can’t play the game and criticize the game. That’s cognitive dissonance, right?”

He looked a bit wary, yet gracious. “Come on, Bess. Human beings are walking contradictions. You know that.”

I considered this, letting my shoulders drop. “I guess we are.” If I was ever offered that money, that security, I knew I’d take it. Very few people chose to be poor to prove a point.

I trailed back to the path, continuing up towards a rocky hill. The air smelled damp and crisp and earthy, with a hint of impending snow. “Can I hear more songs by him? Are they all like that?”

I put the earphones back on and Charlie fed me another song—one that sounded very different. I recognized the artist’s voice, but the message was more personal. Not about money, but pain.

The music pulled me into its orbit so completely that I felt like my feet lifted off the path, carrying me over the landscape. Song by song, I felt more alive than I had in a long time. So alive that I missed something important.

“Shit! How long has it been?” I stopped so suddenly that Charlie bumped into my back again, pushing me off balance.

He reached an arm around my waist to right me. “What?” he asked, removing his earphones.

“The cabin! Shouldn’t we be there by now?”

“Yeah… Sorry, I lost track of time.” He found his phone. “We left around four and it’s… almost five?” He stared at the phone screen; eyes wide.

“Wait, what? Are we even on the right path?” I squeaked.

“Does it matter? The others probably turned around at the fallen tree, so whichever path we’re on, we’ll eventually turn around and go back the same way.”

My heartbeat settled back to double digits. “Yeah, okay. Should we turn around now? What time does it get dark?”

“Um… I’m not sure. We can turn back if you want to. But I bet if we climb that next hill, the views are going to be amazing.” He pointed at the slope ahead of us.

Turning back would have been the sensible thing to do, but part of me wanted to keep walking. For once, I wasn’t going to be Buzzkill. “As long as we get back before dark.” I turned around, powering up the hill.

The steep climb made my legs ache, but we were rewarded at the top.

Alpenglow.

I’d seen a glimpse of the red, glowing mountains when first arriving in Cozy Creek, but this was on a whole other level. The mountain ranges stretched in front of us like a giant fiery panorama, framed by layers of yellows, rusty reds, and dark greens below.

“Worth it,” I announced, removing my earphones mid-song as Charlie reached my side.

“Impressive.” He managed between gasps of breath. “And I mean your speed. The view is okay, too.”

I’d heard the odd comment about my walking speed before, but hadn’t thought about it for a long time. I had a child with only two settings—fast run and sitting on the ground, whining. When she tore off down the road, I usually had to abandon walking and sprint after her. The rest of the time, I was rushing somewhere, late.

“Sorry. I’ll let you catch your breath,” I said, throwing him a smile.

“Don’t apologize. I’m pretty sure this is good for me. Anything that hurts this much has to be, right?”

He caught my eye and held my gaze for far longer than I was comfortable with. Long enough to make it clear it wasn’t the physical pain he was talking about. I wanted to look away, but I couldn’t. The magic of nature in all its festive colors, the crisp air and the absolute privacy of the wilderness had arrested my senses, along with my words.

“Can we fake-date for two minutes?” he asked. “Just in case you one day give in and decide to accept my offer… Then we’ll have this memory of holding each other on top of a hill, looking at this perfect scenery. And if we focus on that moment, it’ll be like a real memory of us, together. One perfect moment.”

“But we’ll know it’s fake,” I argued, even if part of me wanted to run with his warped logic.

His voice was quiet, struggling to emerge from his throat. “It’s not fake for me, Bess.”

“One perfect moment,” I repeated, spellbound, dropping my arms to my sides. “Okay.” I could give him this.

I could give it to myself.

His arms closed around me, raising a flood of warmth and feeling inside. It wasn’t fake for me, either. Even if it wasn’t my future. My chest squeezed as he kissed the top of my head, his hot breath like gusts of summer wind in my hair. The world lay at my feet, but I closed my eyes, captured by Charlie. Being able to give him what he needed, to make him happy, lifted my heart to my throat. I wanted it to be true.

When he finally released me, I stumbled, searching for balance.

He snapped his hand around mine, saving me from falling down. “That might have been longer than two minutes,” he confessed.

“That’s okay.”

The sun had dipped behind the tree line, reminding us that the day was ending.

“Should we head back?” I asked.

I had to force out the words, since I didn’t want to go back. Not even to beat the dark. I’d fumble my way out of the forest. Besides, Charlie would have his flashlight. It probably doubled as a disco ball if needed.

Charlie turned around, scanning the scenery as if looking for an alternative option. He must have been praying hard because that’s when it happened.