Page 87 of The Roads We Follow

“Okay, sure,” Hattie says slowly. “But this is also not the type of accommodations we’re used to staying at. I suppose I expected something ... different. No offense, Micah.”

“That’s it exactly,” Adele agrees with a nod. “This is a simple matter of unmet expectations.”

And it’s right then that all the irritation I’ve been pushing down—the stress, frustration, indignation, fear, and rejection—reaches its peak.

“That’s an interesting point,” I say, focusing my attention on the middle sister first. “Because I can honestly say I never expected I’d be in the position to hold your warm vomit in a hat while riding in the back seat of a sedan, Hattie. But I did it because your safety was more important than my comfort.” I face off with the oldestFarrow sibling next. “I also wasn’t expecting to tote your specialty foods back and forth from the bus to the cooler outside Billy’s auto shop to keep them from spoiling in the heat, Adele. But I did that, too. Why? Because I knew it mattered to you. And this—” I fling my arms out wide—“this place right here matters to me. So much so that I drove the extra miles while everyone slept and set up the arrangements in order to share it with you.” I shove my hands through my hair. “Even a few hours in nature, of breathing in fresh mountain air, is proven to improve our mental clarity, energy, mood, sleep, and stress.”

I reach into my back pocket and fist the bus keys in my palm. “So, no, this place is not a resort. There’s no spa or five-star restaurant to dine at, but there are mountains and trees and trails and streams and beauty everywhere you look if you’re willing to adjust your expectations and open your eyes.” The instant my gaze falls on Raegan, at the shocked way she’s watching me, my chest is seized by a pain I don’t want to name. “It’s your choice: stay and give nature a try, or go back to the bus and lock yourself away for the night.” I drop the bus keys on the small table in the center of the room. “But I’m going fishing.”

24

Raegan

I snap my family out of our stunned silence and point toward the door Micah just exited. “Uh, I should probably...”

“Yes, go!” Mama says with a swishing hand motion. “Go.”

“Did we just break Micah?” I hear Hattie ask as I rush to dig through my overnight bag for my checkered Vans—the only closed-toe shoes I brought suitable for a trek through the woods. As soon as they’re double-knotted, I’m out the door and jogging down the fishing path Micah pointed out earlier. Adrenaline spikes my blood as I call out to him. He’s walking at a brisk pace while carrying a fly rod, net, and some kind of woven purse bag in the other hand. Even if I hadn’t witnessed him coming unraveled at the seams inside that yurt, I’d know by his cadence alone that he’s not okay. I just don’t know if he’ll even accept my help.

When there’s no indication he’s heard me, I quicken my pace, dodging rocks and roots and trying not to think about what else could be lurking in the bushes along this trail. “Micah—wait!”

He stops this time, but he doesn’t turn around. And it’s this, more than the distance we’ve kept from each other since Kansas, that hurts the most.

Fear churns into a muddy mixture inside my core as I near him. Unlike the last man I pursued for nearly two decades, this man is worth the chase, even if I’ve only known him less than two weeks. I have to fix this.

I’m a couple of strides away from him when I stop completely, my lungs desperate for air. He barely twists his neck, as if he’s trying to keep me out of his peripheral vision altogether. “You should go back, Raegan. I’m not in the best place right now.”

“So maybe you shouldn’t be alone,” I push. “Maybe you should talk to someone.”

On an exasperated sigh, he tips his gaze to the sky, and I watch the muscles in his back expand and contract. “What is it you think we should talk about?”

I take a breath and prepare my heart to initiate a conversation that requires a hundred percent vulnerability. “I made a phone call today. To Tav.”

He places his gear on the ground, turns, and pins me with such a devastating stare my knees nearly give out. “And?”

“Whatever you thought you knew about my past relationship—you don’t. Tav doesn’twantme now. And the truth is he never has.Ichased him,Ipursued him,Iwanted him, and I was totally fine with whatever crumbs he threw my way for years because I thought it would be enough. I thought I could love him enough for the both of us.” Micah winces as my words break from my throat. “He didn’t even have the decency to break off our engagement. He made me do it for him, so he could do what he wanted without a guilty conscience. Which was to choose between me and his keyboardist.” Tears threaten to spill onto my cheeks at the humiliating admission. “I’m convinced the only reason he asked me to marry him was because my name and industry connections look better for him on paper, but I’ve never been the one he loved. I never should have saidyes to his proposal. The reason I don’t talk about it is not because I’m trying to hide it, but because I’m ashamed.” A sob escapes me. “It’s been complicated trying to deal with the fallout without hurting either of our families in the process or triggering the media. And you were right; I didn’t want to have that conversation with him again. It sucked the first time, and it sucked again today. But I did it.” I swipe at my cheeks. “There’s no possibility of confusion now. It’s over.”

So many emotions cross his features at once, and I’m certain I’ve never felt more naked or exposed than I do right now.

“He’s the one who should be ashamed, Raegan.” His voice is gravelly when he speaks, and I feel every letter scrape against my unprotected heart. “Not you.”

As I meet his gaze again, I press my lips closed, barely able to trap my feelings for him inside.

“I need to apologize to you,” he says. “I’ve been too pushy when it comes to the tell-all.”

“No, you haven’t,” I whisper. “I know I’ve been a coward, and I’m trying to change that.”

“I can see that.” The conviction in his tone draws my eyes back to him. “I’m sorry.”

I don’t quite succeed at biting the tremble from my bottom lip. “I’m sorry, too.”

I focus on him again, at the crease in his forehead, at the hint of sleeplessness under his eyes, at the aching disappointment etched in every line of his face. “I’m sorry your mother hid this part of her story—your story—from you.”

The cords in his throat constrict, and it’s his turn to look away. “Raegan—”

“And I’m sorry it wasn’t Dorian. Not because I wanted it to be him, but because at least you would have had an answer. And you deserve an answer.” I take a step closer to him, and then another. “And I’m sorry I didn’t deal with Tav a long time ago, because I know you really needed someone these last few days.”

“Not justsomeone, Raegan.” His throat works again as he looksdown at me with an intensity that sends fire sparking through each of my limbs. “I needed you. Ineedyou.”

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