I nodded once, tucked it carefully into the inside pocket of my jacket.
She stood, moving slowly, and put her hands on my chest. “You’re not bulletproof, Axel.”
“Nope. But I am extremely hard to kill.”
Her eyes shimmered. “Promise me something.”
“Anything.”
“Promise me you won’t try to be a hero. Not the kind who dies for everyone else. Be the kind who comes home.”
I leaned in and kissed her—soft, deep, slow like I could imprint every second of this onto my bones.
“I’ll come home,” I whispered. “You’re the only place that’s ever felt like one, since I was a kid.”
She closed her eyes. “I hate this part.”
“I know. Me too.”
I turned to leave, then paused at the edge of the steps.
“Lark.”
“Yeah?”
“You were never lost. You were always just… storm-chasing the wrong horizon.”
She smiled through a sniffle. “Then go bring my sister back so we can chase a real one together.”
I didn’t look back again.
Because if I did—I might not have been able to walk away. God I loved that woman.
I stopped and picked up Fraiser. “So you know Marley?”
“Briefly.”
36
Lark
The quiet settled in fast.
Axel had been gone less than an hour, and already the cabin felt wrong. Like it was missing something essential—like oxygen or gravity.
I wandered around, doing nothing and everything at once. Straightening things that didn’t need straightening. Washing dishes that were already clean. His toothbrush was still on the counter. His jacket still hanging on the hook.
I stood there for a long time just staring at it.
I wasn’t used to missing people. I was used toleavingthem. There was a difference.
My phone buzzed, and I grabbed it like it might be him, already checking in.
But it wasn’t.
It was an alert from the weather app I hadn’t deleted. A line of storms building across the Midwest. The kind I used to chase without a second thought. The kind that pulled me from hotel rooms in the middle of the night, camera gear in hand, heart racing with purpose.
Now I just stared at the radar map and felt… nothing.