Page 64 of The Road Less Traveled By

“Sorry. You didn't tell me you were close.”

“I texted you a few times that I was five minutes away.” My sister rolls her eyes and releases Nellie to me, and I practically get attacked by her excitement. God, I missed her. I’ve been away from her for too long, and I was almost afraid she wouldn't remember who I was.

I should've known my girl could never forget me. I did raise her, after all.

I got Nellie as a baby. My sister suggested getting a dog when I was going through a rough patch a few years ago, and I brushed her off every time she mentioned it. One day, she practically kidnapped me and drove me to a shelter. As soon as I laid my eyes on Nellie, sitting all by herself in a cage, I knew she was my dog.

And now, sixty pounds later, she’s been with me ever since—unless I was out of the country or on an extended assignment.

“Are you hungry?” I ask my sister, wondering if she’s going to stay for a bit and catch up.

“No, but I could use some coffee and a thousand explanations as to why you’re up here.”

This time, I’m the one to roll my eyes, but I nod my head over to the kitchen, and Aria follows me. My sister and I look way too much alike. She’s got the same brown hair as me, only hers is to her shoulders and pin straight. I was the sibling to get the curly haired gene both of our parents had. She’s tall, like me, around 5’ 10”, so only a few inches shorter than me.

I throw a pod into the machine and place a mug underneath it, waiting for it to start working. “It’s three in the afternoon. You’re going to be up all night.”

“That’s for me to worry about, Vince. I have a long flight back to Seattle, thanks to you.”

“Oh, come on, you missed me.” I wrap my sister in a hug, thankful that she brought Nellie back so I can try to cheer Bree up. “Thanks for bringing her. The flight wasn't bad, was it?”

“No, it wasn't. She didn't seem scared either. I think she knew where we were headed.”

“That’s my girl,” I say as Nellie comes over to where I’m standing in the kitchen and plops onto the floor by my feet.

After I hand my sister her coffee, I know she’s about to interrogate me as to what I’m doing, so I don't let her speak before I offer her an explanation. “Bree’s safety was compromised back home. I wanted to get her away for a bit until things calmed down, and this was the first place I thought of. That’s all there is to it.”

“I thought you sold this place a few years ago? How is it still in such good condition?”

“I was going to sell it, but I couldn't.” Every time I imagined getting rid of the house that held so many memories, I got itchy. In a way, this house feels like the only string I have left of my parents. Their faces faded a bit as I continued growing up, but here, in our secluded house tucked into the mountains, I can remember everything. The shape of their faces, the hum of their laughter, and a piece of my grief heals every time I walk into this place.

Because here, they still exist. They still linger in my mind in every corner of this house, and even on the trails we all used to hike on, and I couldn't get rid of it.

“I’m glad you didn't,” my sister says in a low whisper.

“Me too. I come up here more than I care to admit.”

“Why?” my sister questions as she takes a sip ofher coffee.

“More reasons than one.” The main one being that everything seems quieter up here. This is where I come when I have to clear my head of all the shit I’ve seen being on the job this long.

The only place I find peace most days is when I’m hiking. I’ve climbed most of the mountains in this area, and getting to the top and seeing how small the world looks helps to calm the storm that floods my brain sometimes. I love to push myself to the point of exhaustion so that by the time I get to the top, I feel like I succeeded at something.

All the pain, all the sweat, all the straining of my muscles is worth it when I see the world from the top of a mountain. Everything seems to feel useless when I sit and watch the trees move in the wind, the air feeling a bit cleaner as I sit and catch my breath.

It’s the type of peace you can only experience in fleeting moments because by the time you get back to the bottom of the mountain, reality seems to hit you in the face again.

“I understand that. Just promise me you’re taking care of yourself. One of these days, you’ll have to put yourself first, you know. Maybe you’ll eventually do something just for you, and not everyone else.”

I shove my sister’s shoulder as she laughs at me, knowing that will probably never happen. “Keep dreaming, Aria.”

Small taps coming down the stairs makes my heart beat a bit faster, and as Bree turns the corner, I practically stop breathing as I take in the state of her.

She’s wearing one of my fucking shirts again. The first night we were here, she didn't want to wear any of her pajamas because they felt too much like clothes, so I offered her one of my shirts, and she took it.

But this isnotthe one I gave her, which means she went through my stuff to find another one.

That makes my pulse pound even harder.

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