24. Mia

CHAPTER 24

Mia

S itting in The Pines on a rowdy Sunday night with Cammie is typically a good time. But tonight, all I can do is keep my attention pinned on the back hall where the door leads to the garage. I know Jones is out there. Messing around with that stupid old truck like always when something is troubling him.

"You okay?" Cammie asks, finally forcing me to tear my gaze away from the back hall.

"Fine."

"You're a terrible liar."

I let my lips pull in a weak smile. "Just anxious for Rosie to get here. Should I go to the bar and order us a round of drinks while we wait?"

"Sure. How about Long Island iced teas?"

"Works for me."

As I head up to the bar, my vision wanders down the hall to the back door again and I bump into someone.

"Oof," the air deflates from my chest.

"Mia? Shoot, sorry. You okay?" Dean asks.

Rubbing at my shoulder that just came in contact with his chest, my cheeks fill with embarrassment. "I'm fine. Totally my fault. How are you? Recovered from the ride yesterday?"

"My hammies are a little sore, but more or less." He gives me a goofy grin.

I smile back and spot his girlfriend, Sabrina coming up behind him. "Hey," I greet and force another smile. I don't really know Sabrina. But the fact that she was Jones's last girlfriend is unsettling. It's obvious what he saw in her. Cute, beautiful white teeth, big tits. Perfectly sweet too. But he broke things off with her before I returned.

"Hey, Mia." She dips her chin.

Dean glances around. "Jones around? He needs to pay up on a bet we had going."

My lips pinch together. "I haven't seen him. I'm here with the girls tonight." I point at my table where Cammie is playing on her phone. "But I am leaving town on Wednesday, so I guess this is goodbye."

His head whips back in my direction as his brows shoot up. "Really? You're leaving? How come? You two love birds have a spat or something?"

"No," I lie. "This was always the plan, to go back at the end of summer."

"Well, you'll definitely be missed around here. Don't be a stranger." He pulls me in for a hug.

"Thanks. And I won't. My parents won't allow it again," I say, with a laugh.

I'm prepared to give them a wave and go on my way to the bar, but Sabrina takes me by surprise when she touches my arm. She peers right into my eyes and says, "Ya know, I thought Jones was the epitome of commitment phobia. But it was just a commitment phobia with any woman other than you."

I don't know what to say so I say nothing.

"I've seen how he is with you. He's different. He's better. You make him better. I know you had plans to leave, but I hope you'll reconsider," she says, before walking away.

It's as if I'm in a trance while I order our drinks at the bar, wait for them, and carry them back to our table.

Cammie gives me an uneasy look. "You okay?"

"Fine," I mumble, shaking my head and trying to wipe away the conversation between Sabrina and me.

From the corner of my eye, I catch a glimpse of a vivacious woman with dark hair approaching our table. Rosie has an odd smile stretched on her face that I can't place. I'm not sure I've ever seen a smile like that on her before.

My brows pinch together. "What's going on?" I ask before she's even sat down.

"Hey," she greets, pulling out her chair and dropping into it. She glances at both Cammie and me. "What? Why are you two staring at me?"

"Mia is right, something is going on." Cammie twirls her finger around in Rosie's direction. "You look…happy."

Mia shrugs and swipes a drink from the middle of the table. "Shut the hell up. I'm happy."

"Yeah, sometimes. But not like this. It's creeping me out." Cammie narrows her eyes suspiciously. "We're supposed to be sad, we're saying bye to Mia tonight."

"Oh shoot, I know. This sucks." Mia purses her lips. But there's still amusement behind her disappointment.

Cammie and I both continue eyeing her.

"Fine," Rosie blurts. "Mia, you better have plans to come back. Say…next spring?"

I frown a little. Next spring somehow feels so far away and yet at the same time, so soon. As much as I feel better about returning to Maple Ridge, things between Jones and me aren't exactly mended.

"I mean, I plan on coming back. But I don't know if it will be in the spring," I mumble.

"Tough shit. You're coming in the spring because you're going to be one of my bridesmaids." Rosie flops out her hand where there's a giant, sparkling diamond on her ring finger.

My heartbeat picks up as excitement spins through me.

Cammie shrieks and jumps out of her chair, nearly toppling it over as she throws her arms around Rosie. I wait my turn to congratulate her. Emotions build in me seeing the joy on Rosie's face.

"I'm so happy for you," Cammie cries. "My girl is getting married!"

When it's finally my turn, I squeeze Rosie tight, and whisper, "I wouldn't miss it for anything."

Me

For your eyes only.

I snap a picture of the trailhead sign and text it to Cammie. As much as I prefer my hikes in solidarity, I've learned since being home there are people who care about me, and they should know if I'm about to take off alone. Back in the day, this was one of my favorite hikes and the cell service was spotty at best.

Cammie hearts my picture.

Cammie

Don't worry your secret is safe with me.

And I believe her.

A flood of warmth hits my chest. Cammie has always been someone I can trust. It just took coming back home for that fact to solidify in my brain. Rosie too. These two women are the definition of true friends. I only wish I had discovered it sooner. I know my secret about the baby would've been safe with them.

I debate sending a text to Jones. I draft the beginning of a message, but in the end, I delete it and stuff my phone into the side pocket of my yoga pants. At this point, I feel like anything I say will be wrong.

There's already this dark cloud above us since the event wrapped up two days ago and we got into a fight. It's as if we were waiting for those clouds to open and dump rain down on us. A storm to rage and ruin all that we built this summer.

I begin the hike on the dusty trail, which weaves through towering pine trees. They gift me some shade from the late morning sun. I should've gotten started earlier, but the few hours I spent packing was what prompted me to go for a hike.

My head has been a jumbled mess. An internal debate has been continuous in my mind for the last week. Should I stay or should I go? And what would either of those options look like?

If I stayed, where would I live? With Mom and Dad or with Jones? What if another wrench is thrown into our plans or relationship? Would the love Jones and I share be enough this time?

But if I go, will I be able to do life without Jones?

I don't know if I can.

The air is cooler the higher I ascend, but my breath is more accelerated with more exertion. A couple passes me, and we greet one another. I'm relieved they're strangers and not locals. They're smarter than me, as they're making their way back down rather than going up.

Continuing to put one foot in front of the other, thoughts spiral in my mind. I could focus on the unfairness of it. Of why Jones and I had to lose the baby, or why we got pregnant in the first place. Then we wouldn't have had these eight years apart.

But in our time apart, I grew. I learned how to be strong, I learned how to be independent. And I'm not sure I want to minimize that.

Jones grew too. While he stumbled for several years, he finally found his footing. And he didn't need me to do it.

If we went our separate ways, the two of us could be strong apart. But together, we could be indestructible.

There's a clearing in the path and when I approach the edge of the hill, the view spans the foothills of the mountain and the road leading out of town that takes you to the interstate. My heart suddenly feels heavy in my chest.

The life I built in Connecticut feels so far away. Friends, a job, and my aunt who took me in when I needed someone. Can I just leave it all behind?

It's a huge risk that I'm not sure I'm willing to take.

I make a pros and cons list in my head for leaving Maple Ridge. But no matter how many are on the pros list, there's one thing on the cons list that outweighs every positive. Jones. Connecticut doesn't have Jones.

It's in this moment the pressure that's been bearing down on me all summer lifts. The answer to the conflict I've been battling appears as clear as day. It's Jones. It's always been Jones. I don't know why I bothered trying to fight it.

There's an urgency to my steps now as I make my way back down the trail. A deep longing nags in my gut to tell Jones. I tug my phone free from the side pocket of my yoga pants and at the same time, my foot catches on a root sticking out of the trail. I trip and go hurling toward the ground, and so does my phone.

A sort of shrill squawk tears from my throat. "Oh crap!" I holler as I hit the dirt.

Fiery pain radiates in my ankle and zings up my legs. My eyes water and I blink back the impending tears. I push myself up enough so I can roll over to my butt and survey the damage. My hands and my knees throb. There are scratches on my dirty palms that are already bloody and gashes on my knees. But nothing hurts more than my ankle.

The sun is close to setting and worry races through me. I bring my knees to my chest and try to stand but my ankle cries out in agony. My heart thumps faster. Suddenly the fear of being stuck on this trail alone after dark feels completely reasonable. And terrifying.

My phone is several feet away from the side of the trail. It takes some maneuvering, and more inflicted pain, to reach it. But as soon as I unlock the screen, my stomach plummets. Of all the places on this trail, I've fallen where there's a pocket of no cell service.

Having a dad who has always been obsessed with the outdoors, he's at least taught me to never take a hike unprepared. Though I'm sure he also taught me to never hike alone. I slide my pack off my back and pull out the small first-aid kit.

Cleaning and bandaging my wounds give me something to focus on so I don't begin to panic. I'm well aware of the fact that I'm in a messed-up situation. Wild thoughts of crawling down this mountain enter my brain, but I push those aside as a last resort.

Once my wounds are covered on my hands and knees, I try again to push myself up to my feet. Any bit of weight put on my ankle causes a burning pain to swell without forgiveness. I stumble through the torture to a big boulder and drop onto it.

What would be worse; hobble through the pain down this trail or wait it out here all night? I'm only about halfway down, meaning I have about a mile and a half to go. I haven't seen anyone since the couple I passed on my way up over an hour ago.

I check my phone. Still no service or internet access. I pull the flashlight from my backpack and clutch it to my chest.

The sun has already set and in about twenty minutes it will be completely dark. My eyes brim with tears and I can't fight them any longer. They spill and roll down my cheeks in continuous streams. My heart races and I gulp down hurried breaths as hysteria sets in.

I mumble desperate prayers under my breath while simultaneously yearning for telepathy so Jones, my mom, Cammie, anyone would pick up on it and find me here. In between all that and the sobbing, I call out for help. No one answers. The darker it grows, the quieter it becomes.

An hour later and after one more failed attempt at hobbling down the mountain, I find my jacket in my pack and put it on. My phone is bringing me little comfort. I play with the flashlight for a while. Shining it at the sky, I pretend it's the bat signal and hope someone in town sees it.

Laying back on the rock, I stare up at the bright stars. Their shimmering isn't enough to distract me from the constant pain in my ankle. But they're at least pretty to look at.

My mind wanders to my past. All those summer evenings spent with Jones, snuggled in the bed of his truck while we gazed at the star-speckled sky. I try not to let fear get the better of me and worry that those nights or only in the past. I want more than anything to make more memories with Jones. To have more nights spent with him.

A rustling sound startles me, and I sit up, a lump sliding in my throat. Hurried footsteps trampling over the trail terrain causes my heart to thump hard and fast against my chest.

"Mia?" a voice cries out.

Not just any voice.

Jones's voice.

But it might as well be the voice of an angel. Because he found me. He's here to rescue me. Maybe he and I have telepathy after all.

"Mia?" he shouts again.

"I'm here," I call back. "Jones, I'm here."

"Mia!" This time my name thunders in his voice. "Oh, thank God. I'm coming."

Tears spring to my eyes again.

A light from his flashlight appears on the trail first and I scoot to the edge of the rock in anticipation. When he finally comes into view, my gaze falls on him and I cry harder in relief.

"Mia," he says in exhale as he rushes to me.

Flinging my arms around him, I sob, "I'm so sorry."

He holds me so tight. Tighter than he's ever held me. Or maybe it just feels that way because I've never needed him more.

"Shh," he hushes me. "Peaches, you're safe now. I've got you."

"I was so scared."

"You were scared? I was losing my mind when I heard you went hiking alone and never made it back home." He rears back and holds my face in his hands. "What the hell were you thinking?"

I sniff. "I don't know. And then I twisted my ankle…it was stupid."

"You bet your ass it was stupid," he barks, wiping away my tears.

"How'd you know where to find me?"

"You kidding? This has always been your favorite place to hike when you've got something on your mind."

My gaze dances over his in adoration. "You remember that?"

"Peaches, I remember everything."

Warmth fills me as the realization sets in that this man knows me. Not just the old me, but the new me. And he still loves me.

"I'm so sorry."

"You better be sorry, worrying me like that. Fuck, Mia." He runs his hand over my hair.

"Not for that…I mean, I am sorry for that too." I set my hand on his face and brush his cheek with my thumb. "Jones, I pick you. You're my person. You're the one I want to survive life with. You're the one I want to have a good time with."

"Yeah?" A smile grows on his face and he brings my forehead against his.

I nod against him, and we sit like this, staring at one another and smiling, like neither of us can believe that we get to finally start our lives together.

"C'mon, beauty, hop on my back," he instructs. "I'm going to carry you down this mountain and get you to the hospital to get that ankle fixed up."

"My hero," I say in singsong.

"We've never fucked at a hospital before," he says, waggling his brows at me.

And I just laugh. Because Jones is my person. Always and forever.