Page 105 of Finding Denver
I’m losing her. I’ve lost her. And I get it. I can’t be angry, or beg her to stay, or say that things will change, because they won’t. Wilder will always be my brother, and I can’t change what he did.
I rest my forehead against hers. “Where will you go?”
She sighs softly. “A while ago, Lewis asked me what my happiness looks like. I wasn’t sure then, and maybe I’m not even sure now … but I think I could find it if I was with Axel. He’s my real family, and I miss him so much.”
“Where is he?”
“Australia,” she says. “I’ll be safe out there. I can be normal. Just like we said. No guns, no murder, no looking over my shoulder.”
My heart clenches. “Australia is far.”
“I know.”
“I’ll miss you.”
She clings to my jacket. “I know that, too.”
I try to take comfort in the fact that I’m probably not losing everything because this could never be more than this. That even if Wilder hadn’t messed things up, Denver and I would probably never work, because short of me killing Ranger, he’d always be there. He’d never let her be happy and would fight us every step of the way.
And she wants out of this life. To not look over her shoulder and worry. And as much as I want that, too, I can never leave it. I could never leave Holly behind.
If only facts changed feelings. If only this time with her hadn’t meant fucking everything to me.
I’ll miss the long talks no longer interrupted by guilt that we shouldn’t be friends. The way her eyes light upwhen she talks about her parents, stories of a family she had and wants again so badly. How she can barely make it through a movie without falling asleep. The way she laughs at every comment Holly makes. How close they’ve become—the bracelets they make together and the puzzles they never complete. And then … there’s just Denver.
Coconut shampoo and unfinished coffees on her nightstand. Laughing until she snorts at the stories I tell her about growing up with Taf and Alistair. The way she cuddles Holly. The birthmark on her forearm that Holly draws around because it’s almost in the shape of a love heart.
It’s only been weeks, but I’m not sure what life is supposed to be like when Denver is taken out of it. Not hollow but not quite life, either.
But then I’m smiling, and she smiles, too.
“What?”
I shake my head. “I was just thinking of everything. How we met, the things we’ve done … I talk to you about things I didn’t think I’d ever be brave enough to say out loud. You make my mind less … busy.” I brush her hair back. “I think you might be my best friend.”
Her eyes sparkle with happiness more than tears.
“I think you might be my best friend, too.”
We walk back to the house together, and I watch from a distance as she talks to Finn and Helena about leaving. Helena begs her to stay, and Finn looks close to doing the same, but they know just like I do that it’s for the best.
I have to walk away. I take refuge in Finn’s office, standing by the window and battling with the relief that Denver is getting out and the devastation that it isn’t with me.
“My dad wasn’t really one for big speeches,” Finn saysfrom the door. He walks to the small drinks trolley and pours us both a whiskey. “The most I heard him talk was when people reminded him that McEwan is a Scottish name as well as Irish, and then he’d delve into the history of the McEwans. He could talk about that for hours.” He hands me a drink. “And then my mother died, and he shut down even more. I was twelve, but even I was worried about him and what he’d do without her. It’s like suddenly finding yourself on a ship without sails when you lose someone like that. You know.”
I do. Losing Callie felt just like that. Being cast adrift after knowing for so long where you were going and how you were going to get there.
“But he still got up every day. He worked, he looked after us, tried to cook.” He smiles, and I do, too. “He was a dad even when he didn’t know how to be. Loved us the only way he knew how. And even though I knew he deserved happiness, I was so fucking mad when he met someone else. I was seventeen and cursed him under the fucking heavens the day he brought Ana home. Another woman in my mother’s house? It felt wrong, y’know?” He tucks a hand into his pocket and sips his drink. “I asked him how he could ever love after someone like my mother had existed. You know what he said?”
“What?” I ask, my voice quiet.
“He said hearts are built to be broken.” He watches me with the kind of love only a father can for their son, and for the first time since I found out who he is to me, I want to say the words. “Hearts are strong. They’re supposed to be battered. They’re supposed to have scars from people we loved so desperately that losing them tore at the very muscle that keeps us alive.” I swallow hard as he moves close. “Loving again isn’t a crime. Ask her to stay.”
I have to look away. “I can’t do that. It isn’t fair.”
“Then go with her.”
“And leave Holly? You know what Wilder is like. He’s okay right now, but what happens when someone else pisses him off?” I shake my head and swallow some whiskey along with the urge to scream at my responsibilities. “I’m the head of my family, Finn. I can’t just leave.”
