Chapter 22

CHAPTER 22

PETE

Pete awoke to shaking. In her sleep-addled state, her first thought was of the Cascadia Earthquake, here to take her at last. She jolted upright, confused to find that instead of a catastrophic tectonic event, it was just Izzy and Maggie jumping on her bed. Well, Danica's bed.

Danica. The one she'd been chasing without realizing it, all this time.

"Come on, get up so we can get a few runs in this morning before our flight," Izzy said.

Pete looked around, still confused. "Where's Danica?"

Maggie and Izzy both paused their quaking, looking at her like they felt sorry for her.

"Where is she?" Pete repeated, throwing her blankets off. She'd slept in her clothes last night, too afraid of leaving Danica's side, too afraid of the feelings that she’d let herself voice. She'd held Danica all night, not allowing herself to think of what daylight might bring.

Pete knew – deep down she knew exactly where Danica was, but she had to hear them say it.

"She left early," Maggie said in an exceedingly gentle voice.

Pete blinked, a resonating ache in her chest nearly stealing her breath. Why would Danica leave without talking to her? She grabbed her phone to call Danica, a shock of pain as the call went straight to voicemail.

Maggie and Izzy were watching her warily, like they were ready to comfort her, should she ask. She cleared her throat and pushed her hair out of her face. "Did she say why she left?"

Izzy shook her head. "No.” Her tone was flat, and Pete could tell she was angry.

Maggie shot Izzy a look. "It's a long drive home," she said, ever the peacekeeper.

"I think you both just need some time. Come on, let's go forget about the real world for another couple of hours," Izzy said.

Pete noticed Maggie wasn't wearing her sling and was flexing her wrist. Maggie shrugged her shoulders. "I feel fine. I'll take it easy."

Pete looked back down at her phone, at the contact she had saved for Danica. It had a picture she'd taken of her lying on the ground whining about snowboarding, and made Pete smile as she looked at it. Now, she didn’t know if she would even need Danica’s number. By leaving without a word, Danica had sent a very clear message about her priorities, and Pete obviously wasn't one of them.

Pete swallowed. “Sure, just… Give me a moment.”

A hollow space seemed to open up inside her chest, a cold draft sweeping through her body as if Danica had taken more than just her presence with her. It wasn’t the silence that stung — it was the absence of the goodbye.

She had imagined a thousand different endings, each one filled with something, anything , to acknowledge what they had shared over the last few days. But this? This was an abrupt, jagged emptiness.

She grabbed her phone as if she could call Danica, ask her what happened, demand some kind of explanation. But the words wouldn’t come. They just felt stupid, unnecessary, as if to ask would only remind her that there had never been a promise, never a guarantee.

Danica hadn’t even said goodbye. The thought dug into Pete’s skin like a splinter, sharp and painful. She had expected something more — maybe not a dramatic farewell, but a moment. A kiss. A word. A fucking explanation. Instead, the only thing she had was the heavy, oppressive quiet, the echo of her own thoughts filling the room like a distant hum.

She should be used to this. She had been waiting for this, hadn’t she? She knew better. But it felt different with Danica. There was something in the way they had talked, the way they had laughed, the way everything felt so effortlessly right between them this time.

So, why had she just… walked away?

Pete could feel the sting of something sharp gathering in her throat, a mix of confusion and hurt, but she swallowed it back. Crying wouldn’t bring Danica back.

But the ache lingered.

Her heart kept pacing in her chest, a steady drumbeat of What now? What now? What now? and the answer was nothing. Nothing at all.

Her eyes drifted to the spot on the bed where they had fallen asleep together, tangled in the covers like two things that had fit perfectly into each other. The memory should’ve felt sweet, but it only hurt now, like a bruise she couldn’t stop rubbing.

The promises of the night before looped endlessly in her mind, too heavy to let go of, too sharp to ignore.

She composed herself and stood, the moment feeling so final. Maybe the wind in her face, the rush of adrenaline, and the quiet of the mountain would do her some good.

Maggie insisted they stick to blues, taking it easy on her healing arm and Pete’s emotional state. "We don't need two injuries today," she'd said. She was right, but Izzy and Pete both grumbled on the lift. They planned to hit a few trails, grab lunch at Bon Vivant, then head out.

Izzy handed Pete a small shooter of whiskey, but Pete declined, opting for honey water in her flask instead. A sudden stop of the lift brought back the memory of Danica's earlier panic attack on the chairlift, a near-hysterical episode averted only by Pete's distraction of picking a fight. Had that only been this week? It felt like so long ago.

"Do you think a very mild concussion could cause enough short-term memory loss to forget most of this week ever happened?" Pete asked, pointing to a patch of trees nearby. "Nothing life-threatening. Just enough for a bit of amnesia."

"Yikes, buddy," Izzy said.

Maggie patted Pete's shoulder. "It wasn't all bad. Remember when I got to ride on that rescue toboggan?"

Izzy glanced sideways at her. "Or karaoke night? I'll never forget nearly blowing a vocal cord screaming to Alanis."

"It would have been a little ironic , but that vocal cord would have gone out as a hero," Maggie said with a self-satisfied giggle.

"Remember when I had to play a full round of truth or dare with socks on my hands?" Izzy asked.

"Oh, or when I hit you right between the eyes with a snowball?" Maggie added excitedly.

Pete cracked a smile at that one. "Okay, maybe just short-term memory loss centered around one... maybe two people, then."

"I mean, I'm pretty sure the message of Eternal Sunshine would say that you can't have the good memories without the bad ones," Maggie said, swinging her skis.

Izzy sighed, her breath swirling in the cold air in front of her face. "We could save a tree and I could just club you over the head with my board."

"A very kind offer," Pete said with a huff of amusement. "Very environmentally-friendly."

"Sustainable concussions. You could market that," Maggie added. "Like dolphin-friendly tuna. Tree-friendly ski injuries."

The lift shuddered into action again, pulling them forward, and they fell into a companionable silence. Pete tried to rein in all of the runaway ideas she had about chasing after Danica. How long did you chase someone who never stopped running?

"Maybe our next trip should just be the three of us," Maggie said finally, and Pete nodded in agreement. "Has anyone heard from Kiera?" Maggie glanced toward Izzy.

Izzy shook her head. "Nope. I have no idea. Maybe she and Eddie caught a ride back to Denver together or something."

"Maybe," Pete said, chewing her lip thoughtfully. She idly wondered if Danica would ever forgive Kiera for what she’d done.

A new thought popped into her head, causing tears to sting at the corners of her eyes. She didn't know if she'd ever see Danica again. Maybe she'd just been something had Danica to get out of her system. A fun plaything to leave on vacation. She'd really been a fool for thinking they were beginning something new. They were just temporarily picking up where they'd left off, that was all.

Lift 4 lowered into the station and the three of them slid out, Maggie readjusting the wrap under her glove. Thankfully, the ease of Boomerang, a wide blue run, loosened the tension in her shoulders as she took a wide, carving path down the run, enjoying the fresh inch or so of snow that had fallen the night before. Izzy and Maggie were right. This was the best way to clear her mind and spend her last day.

After completing their run, they hopped on Lift 5, and Pete felt invigorated. Sitting between Izzy and Maggie, she wrapped an arm around both of their shoulders. "Thank you for putting up with my bullshit this week. I love you both."

"I love you, too, bud," Maggie said, patting Pete's thigh.

"Don't get all sappy now," Izzy said, but she laid her head on Pete's shoulder for a quick moment.

"You know, this week may not have gone the way we all thought it would, but I wouldn't trade it for anything."

Izzy and Maggie murmured their agreement as the lift lowered and the three clambered their way out of the lift station.

"Last one down buys crepes," Maggie called playfully, pushing toward Polar Queen with a laugh. Izzy and Pete scrambled to clip their bindings, and Izzy hopped into place, following behind Maggie.

Pete paused, watching her two friends interlace paths down the mountain, and she could hear their laughter. In that moment, surrounded by snowcapped evergreens, white-tipped mountains, and the crispness of the cold air, her heavy heart felt a bit lighter.

Pete loved flying. She'd never been afraid of flying, but she’d been on so many planes she’d begun to take it for granted. Still, it was just a little more exciting to be on a small plane taking off from one of the most gorgeous places she'd ever been. The plane from Telluride to Denver was tiny, with only about 30 seats on board, and she felt extra bougie as she settled back into the leather seat, pretending she was on a private plane with her two best friends. What would teenage Pete think of the life she lived now, spending a week in a luxury condo in Telluride to ski, then flying on a tiny plane back to Denver?

She and Izzy shared the two-seat side of the plane while Maggie took the single seat across the aisle. The engine was eye-level out the window and loud, but didn't block the stunning mountain surround as the plane lined up on the runway. The landing strip was short, and Maggie had panicked about it when they'd flown in, so Pete reached across the aisle to offer her hand to Maggie now, knowing the takeoff would be fast and likely just as steep.

"So long, Telluride," Izzy said toward the window as the plane lifted at the end of the runway. Maggie's grip tightened on her hand and Pete smiled reassuringly.

Immediately at the end of the runway was a ravine with a creek, and then it was granite and snowy mountains as far as she could see. Unfortunately, they were pointed in the wrong direction to see the resort, even as they craned their necks to look back for one last goodbye.

Here, so high above it all, everything from the week seemed to fade. The laughter, the excitement, the worry, the pain... Thousands of feet in the air now, everything mattered just a little less.

Pete closed her eyes, letting the sound of the engine drown out her thoughts. She'd go back to Seattle. She'd continue building Second Star, hire Izzy, find a happy medium between travel and home. Maybe she'd get out to see Lillian soon. Maybe she'd get a dog, finally.

She'd be okay.

She always was, eventually.