Chapter 26

Chapter Twenty-Six

Clark

MY HEART IS GOING crazy. My hand is sweaty as I grip River’s and lead him down the path he showed me a week ago. So much has changed in that short span of time. More plants crawl onto the path, overgrowing this neglected trail the same way thirty-plus years of doubt have overgrown my heart. I can only hope there’s still time to clear a way forward.

I crunch along the path, picking my feet up high to get over the foliage in my way. Soon, the path opens up, the forest pushed away by that singular massive tree where River and I sat in his hammock last time.

River gasps.

It isn’t just his hammock this time. Flower petals litter the area around the tree like dollops of sunlight breaking through the canopy of leaves overhead. A hammock hangs from the branches again, but this time a blanket sits beside it, complete with a picnic basket I packed myself.

“What is all this?” River says.

I put my back to all my preparations and squeeze his hand.

“I wanted to put something together for you,” I say. “Do you like it?”

He breaks into a wide smile. “Of course I like it. You did all this?”

I nod, watching as his eyes flicker over the display. I wait for his expression to darken as he remembers how I abandoned him, how I ran. I haven’t contacted him at all in the past week, too caught up in nursing my fears, yet River takes in my little picnic with a genuine smile. When his gaze returns to me, his gray eyes are as bright as the clear sky bathing Tripp Lake in sunlight.

“This is incredible,” he says.

“Come on. Are you hungry?”

He nods, and I pull him toward the picnic blanket. We settle atop it, and I open the picnic basket to dig out the chocolate-covered strawberries and champagne I placed inside. I even brought two tall, thin flutes to drink from. When I pour us each a glass, River clinks his against mine.

“Should we toast?” he says.

“To what?”

“To being here. To this moment. To the present.”

To the present. I would have thought this moment impossible a week ago. River’s proposal that we give the connection between us a real shot, that we take this “relationship” seriously, whatever it may be, terrified me. I escaped back to my normal life, but swiftly found that all my usual comforts fell short. Work didn’t distract me the way I’d hoped. I returned home hollow every night, my thoughts drifting back to River. Talking with Megan and then my sister only cemented it: I can’t walk away from this so easily, but neither do I know what to do with it. Even here, amid this strange picnic I prepared, I don’t know where I’m going. I don’t know quite how I want this to end. All I know is that I had to try. I had to see River again and show him the truth of how I feel.

“To the present,” I agree, tipping my glass against his.

We drink, then go for the strawberries. River insists on feeding one to me. My lips graze his fingertips as he presses the strawberry to my mouth, and that fleeting taste of his skin proves even sweeter than the fruit and chocolate that burst on my tongue. He finishes the rest of the strawberry himself, sucking the juices off his fingers. The sunlight that trickles through the tree cover seems to find only him, bright against his skin. He leans back on his hands and soaks up the pleasant day easily, as though we didn’t leave here at odds last time I saw him. He lives truly, genuinely in this one moment, allowing the past to brush by him.

I can’t let go so easily. I didn’t bring him out here and set all this up just to have him feed me strawberries. I shift, picking at the blanket beneath me, then gather my courage with a deep breath.

“River, I brought you out here because I wanted to talk to you,” I say.

He sits up straighter. We’re cross-legged, our knees nearly touching as we face each other. His posture tenses, but River waits patiently, not pushing even though we both know what comes next might not be entirely pleasant.

“I … I’m sorry for how things went last time,” I say.

“You don’t need to apologize.”

I shake my head. “No, I do. You brought me out here to show me something that’s important to you, and I ran away from you. That wasn’t fair. Even if I couldn’t accept what you said, I didn’t need to express it that way. I owe you better than that.”

“What about what you owe yourself?”

I trip over that question. I had this apology all planned out in my head — I even started writing it out at work on Friday — but I never anticipated a question like that. I should have. It’s so purely River to ask something like that when I’m attempting to apologize for how poorly I treated him.

“I’m still working on that part,” I say. “I thought I’d start by repairing the damage I caused.”

He surprises me by smiling. “You don’t need to repair any damage, Clark. I want you to be happy. I want you to do whatever feels best to you. If you don’t feel the same way about me that I feel about you, it’s okay. Sure, it hurt to hear that, and I’ll admit I worried that I pushed too hard, that I wasn’t good enough for you, but in the end, you have to do whatever’s best for you.”

My chest aches as he goes on. “How could you think…”

I cut myself off, but it’s too late. River cocks his head to one side. Before he can ask, I rush on.

“Of course you’re ‘good enough’ for me,” I say. “You’re too good for me, River. You’re more than I’ll ever deserve.”

“But you’re…”

It’s my turn to furrow my brow in question.

“You’re so professional,” he says. “You’re so put together. Your job and all that. I’m just a yoga teacher living out in the middle of nowhere.”

“What’s so wrong about being a yoga teacher living in the middle of nowhere?”

River sits back, his eyebrows rising. That ache in my chest clenches tighter at the surprise on his face. Has no one ever told him how incredible he is? Given his family situation, I suppose they haven’t, but someone should — and I suppose the task falls to me.

“River, you’re every bit as ‘put together’ as I am,” I say. “So your life looks different from mine. So what? That doesn’t make your choices worse because mine are more conventional. Hell, you live in this gorgeous place doing something you truly love. You’re authentically yourself all the time. You’re responsible and creative and you love helping people. Everyone you meet leaves better for having known you. I’d say you’re doing better than most normal people with normal lives, myself included.”

River’s throat bobs as he swallows. For once, he seems to be holding back, clenching his teeth against a swell of emotion that shines in his eyes.

“I’m sorry it took so long for me to see it,” I say. “Or maybe I saw it the whole time, I was just afraid of what it meant. I’ve holed myself up in a cave all these years and convinced myself I prefer the dark, and you’re like the sun shining suddenly in my eyes. It was too bright for me at first, but I…”

I cut myself off, standing at the precipice, my toes over the edge. With a few more words, I will send myself plummeting into the unknown, and the vertigo of that realization makes my head spin.

“I wanted to show you how I feel,” I say. “I do care, River. I care about you a lot. I… But if this is too little, too late, I understand.”

I remember my father insisting he be on that roof when he could have, should have asked for help. I think of my sister breaking the habits our parents taught us as her and her husband prepare to take maternity leave together to raise their child. Will I be more like my father, or is there time for me to follow in my sister’s footsteps? I’ve always looked up to her, but she’s always been braver than me. This grand gesture could come too late to change the trajectory of my life, but at least I’ll have tried. That’s more than I can say for the Clark who sat under this same tree a week ago.

I hang my head as the weight of all my missed opportunities presses down on me. I’m in my thirties, which isn’t old old, but it’s well old enough to feel like I’ve let a huge chunk of my life pass me by. I focused on nothing but work, and when River showed up and interrupted that, I got scared and tried to run away. I didn’t want to confront the truths implied by River’s pushing, that I’d focused too much on work, that I’d wasted my life, that I’d become my father. Even if he rejects me now, it was worth it to go for this Hail Mary pass, to put it all out there and give myself a shot at something crazy and unconventional for once in my life.

I had to be selfish, even just this once.

A finger lands softly under my chin. At the slightest insistence, I lift my head and find River leaning toward me, his clear gray eyes staring directly into mine. Even at a moment like this, I can’t help melting at his touch, my resistance crumbling the second he takes control and guides me.

“It’s not too late,” he says, voice soft because he’s so close. “It’s never too late to fall in love, Clark.”

That word startles me, but before I can do more than blink, River tips forward, his lips soft and light against mine. My eyes flutter shut, and I lean into him, deepening the kiss, seeking the firm pressure of his mouth. River keeps things mild, not parting his lips, not using his tongue, just lingering there against my mouth. The kiss ignites something inside me all the same. Has it only been a week since I’ve tasted these lips? It feels like lifetimes as the shockwaves of the kiss ripple through me and awaken the sensations only River draws out of me.

Yearning squeezes my heart like a fist, and I brace my hands on River’s knees so I can lean even closer. He slips his hand along my jaw, cradling my face as we tilt our heads to get closer. I lick along the seam of his lips, and at last they part, allowing me inside. I barely brush my tongue against his teeth before he jabs his tongue into my mouth instead, licking into me with unrestrained hunger. River is as blunt and bold as ever, and it takes an effort not to whimper when he eases us apart.

His hand lingers on my cheek, thumb stroking as he gazes into my eyes.

“Come with me,” he says. “Let’s enjoy the day together. You went to all this trouble, after all. We should make the most of the moment.”

He could lead me to the bottom of Tripp Lake, for all I care. I’d follow him anywhere now that I’ve ripped my chest open and shown him what’s inside. So when he stands and offers me his hand, I take it without an ounce of doubt in my heart.