Page 188 of Where Broken Wings Fly

My heart convulses in my chest. “Me?”

“Yes. I’ve wanted to say that for a long time.”

Seized by hope, I kiss her, overcome by a desperate need to seal this moment and ensure she can’t take her love back. I need to feel that it’s real, and this isn’t some foolish dream I’ll wake up from, alone again.

“Willow.” My nose brushes against her cheek. “I’ve never felt about anyone the way I feel about you. When we’re together, I feel… well, happy. Whole. Alive.”

“You deserve to be happy, Mi.”

“And that’s down to you. I love you, Willow. That scares the shit out of me to admit, but it’s the truth. I’m in love with every single part of you.”

Pulling out of her, I remove the used condom and bundle Willow’s naked body into my arms. She snuggles against my chest as we crawl into the tent together to warm up. I slide us into the same sleeping bag, our bare limbs entangled.

“Comfortable?”

She hums in response.

I stroke the curls from her face. “I love you.”

“How many times are you going to say it?”

“I love you. I love you. I love you. Want to hear it again?”

Willow giggles. “I got the message.”

Through the open flap of the tent, we have a view of the darkened sky, peppered with emerging stars and the gleam of pearly white moonlight. This far into the barren countryside, nature is undisturbed by pollution.

“I’m so glad I met you all. I can’t imagine my life without you guys in it.”

“You don’t have to,” I whisper back. “We will never let you go.”

CHAPTER 34

WILLOW

RUNNING - NF

Dipping the spoon into a zip-lock bag of coffee, I add several heaps to the metal saucepan of boiling water heated on the crackling campfire outside our tent. It didn’t take much coaxing to reignite the wood.

A headful of messy, sun-streaked hair pops out of the tent’s flap. Micah blinks the sleep from his eyes, dressed in an oversized tee and his faded jeans from yesterday.

“Do I smell coffee?”

“It’s almost ready.”

He gives me a sleepy smile. “Yum, thank you.”

Filling the two folding cups with freshly brewed coffee, I settle inside the tent flap between Micah’s strong, outstretched legs. His chin lands on my shoulder, the flyaway strands of his caramel hair tickling my neck.

“Beautiful sunrise.”

I take a sip of coffee. “I wanted to see it.”

The summer sun is blossoming in brilliant hues of orange and pink. It’s a watercolour painting coming to life in real time, awash with vivid, unfiltered colours and wisps of morning mist curling over the mountains that surround us.

It’s the most peaceful place I’ve ever seen. I loved the rugged wilderness of the Mexican desert too, even if that place brought nothing but doom into my life. Nature in its rawest forms is so beautiful to me.

“Did you sleep well?” he whispers.

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