And it catches up to Joan as well.
“And I what?”
Choked by the shame of it, I shake my head and keep walking down the path.
“Rhett.” Joan reaches out and grasps my forearm, her tone hard and flat. “I left my community? I didn’t ‘do right’ by them? Is that what you’re trying to say?”
“That’s not what I meant.”
“Isn’t it?” She lets out a harsh, humorless laugh.
“Joan, I—”
“No. This is just… I need a minute.”
With that, she turns and starts walking away. Not to my cabin, but in the other direction, around the outskirts of the village and toward the path that leads to the grotto.
Is that where she’s headed? Into the caves? Or worse, into the darkness of the woods?
I watch her go, feet rooted to the forest floor, burning with regret.
As much as I’m sure she doesn’t want me to follow her, the need to keep her safe wars with the need to give her space. Knowing it may be a mistake, knowing all I’m likely doing is digging my own grave even deeper, I can’t stop myself from following her into the night.
31
Joan
I barely see the path ahead of me as I walk away from Rhett.
And even though half of me is still aching to stay—to talk to him, to try to figure all of this out—the other part, the wounded, angry part keeps putting one foot in front of the other.
Space. I just need some space.
To calm down, to think, to not say something I’d just end up regretting.
I know Rhett’s hurting right now, and I know I probably should have stayed and talked to him like an adult instead of running away, but that doesn’t erase the fact that he hurt me, too.
It doesn’t change the fact that I wastrying. Trying to find some common ground and understand him better, trying to ease into the conversation we should have had days ago.
And instead, he threw all of that trying right back in my face.
I’m not even sure where I’m going, not until a stiff breeze through the trees brushes against my bare arms and I remember where this path leads—right back to the grotto with all those warm, wonderful pools. And though I’m not exactly thrilled about the idea of going back inside a cave right now, the windkicks up again and I shiver against the cold air coming down off the mountains.
Decision made, I take a left at the next fork in the path and keep walking until the grotto’s entrance comes into view.
As I approach, the warm, damp air wafting out from inside chases away the lingering cold, and though I hesitate for a moment in the stone archway, I shake it off and step inside.
The grotto is just as breathtaking tonight as it was the last time I was here. Still dappled in all that hypnotic blue-green light, shimmering and shining from beneath the softly rippling water.
Unlike last time, though, the cave isn’t entirely empty.
There are a few demons lounging in the pools, apparently unbothered at being naked around each other as they bathe in the warm water. Not sharing that same sense of freedom, I direct my gaze toward the floor and head for one of the side tunnels leading to another, smaller room of pools. Whether it’s because the steam is too thick to see me clearly or the demons already bathing are otherwise occupied, no one seems to notice me as I slip past.
The next chamber I enter is empty, with a deep, oblong pool in its center and more crystals embedded in the stone walls, casting the whole place in rippling light.
It’s beautiful, peaceful, and I try to ignore the ache in my chest over being here alone.
Not knowing what else to do now that I’m here, I kick off my shoes and socks, roll up my pant legs, and sink down onto the stone floor beside the pool. Swinging my legs in front of me, I dip my feet in the water. It’s warm and soothing, like a big, steaming bath, and I’m debating whether I should just shuck off the rest of my clothes and go for a dip when a voice behind me has my heart leaping into my throat.