Page 33 of Return to Me Always

After another exhausting and sloshy shoe day with short food breaks, we finally paused for the night. I was getting so tired of this. But as I watched Tyler setting up camp, I bit my tongue to halt any complaints and joined in helping.

Everything was so damp we had to cook and eat dinner inside our tent. But I didn't mind. It was warm in there, and I could finally get out of my wet shoes.

The spaghetti Tyler made helped heat me up from the inside. And after I ate, I was feeling much better and decided maybe it was time to test Tyler with a few questions.

"So I talked about my family last night. What's your situation?" I asked, trying to sound casual even though I was dying to know more about him.

"Fair enough. I suppose it's my turn now." He messed with the sleeping bags for a minute while I tried not to fidget. Sighing, he eventually said, "It's just me and my brother. My parents died ten years ago when I was thirteen."

I was shocked into silence for a moment. Tyler's parents were dead? How unbelievably sad. "I'm so, so sorry."

He gave me a small smile. "Yeah. Thanks for that."

Tyler paused for so long, I wasn't sure he'd continue. Finally, I asked, "How'd they die? If you don't mind my asking, of course. I understand if you don't want to—"

"It's fine," he interrupted. "Just not used to discussing it much... with anyone."

"Right. Of course."

He hesitated again, but this time, I kept silent.

"They died in a helicopter crash," he said, not meeting my eyes.

I gasped in shock. "That's terrible."

"Aye, it was. I mean, it still is."

He was quiet for a long while, and I had no idea what to say. So I reached out and covered the back of his hand with mine. The warm contact seemed to speak more than any words.

Tyler looked at me with wounded eyes then finally spoke. "Sorry. Haven't talked about it in forever."

My heart hurt for him. "I understand."

His free hand smoothing out the wrinkles in his sleeping bag, Tyler began to speak again. "It was my mum's birthday, and she had always wanted to go on a helicopter ride. So my dad arranged a tour and surprised her. There was a mechanical problem that led to engine failure, and it crashed, killing everyone instantly."

"I'm so sorry. I can't even imagine." Tears sprung to my eyes, and I squeezed his hand. "And you were just thirteen?"

He nodded, his lips compressed in a tight line.

"What about your brother? How old was he?" I asked, not able to help my curiosity.

"He was eighteen. He became my legal guardian."

I shook my head. "That must have been so incredibly difficult—being a teenager, losing both parents like that."

"It was," he agreed, pausing to take a few breaths. "Somehow, we made it through. And I didn't turn out all bad."

I smiled at his attempt at humor. "Not all bad. No," I teased. "And your brother? Are you close?"

"Nah, not at all."

"Oh, I'm sorry to hear that," I said, surprised by his admission.

"Thanks. But no need. I rarely see him. He's in Switzerland living with his girlfriend."

Despite his denial, I felt terrible for him. It sounded like his brother was the only family he had left, and it was sad that they didn't seem to get along.

His eyes met mine, and I felt that connection between us... even stronger than before. He turned his hand over so our palms touched, causing my heart to pound so loudly I wondered if he could hear it.

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