“There were a lot of little things that added up to a couple of big things. Let me tell you when we get there.”
“Where are we going? The lighthouse? My apartment is down the street. We can talk there.”
“Do you trust me?”
“Yeah.” She skims her fingertips down my chest. “Yeah, I do.”
“Then I have something to show you.”
She locks up, and we stand close to each other in the elevator as it carries us down to the lobby. I haven’t lost her, but there’s still a risk she won’t like what I have to say. She won’t like it, or she won’t believe it, or she’ll think it’s a pile of shit—which, of course, it is.
The concrete glitters with black ice, and we walk slowly down the sidewalk. She’s wearing high-heeled boots, but I’m sure the snail’s pace is more for my benefit than hers. Devyn never forgot how broken I am. I turned that into a flaw, when looking out for my health and wellbeing should have been her greatest attribute.
“New truck?” she asks as we stop by the rental I needed when I landed in Old Harbor.
“My truck’s in Cedar Hill.” I unlock the door and help her into the passenger’s seat.
“Oh,” she says, dropping her purse onto the floorboard by her feet. “When you said you talked to Bill, I thought you meant on the phone.”
“No. I drove to Cedar Hill because I thought you took your old job at the Times. When Bill told me you weren’t there, I flew back.”
I shut the door, the impact echoing down the empty sidewalk. Old Harbor is large enough there are several stores, even the larger shopping centers, that hold later hours, but here, in the middle of downtown, everything closed at five, and we’re the only ones on the street.
We lose even more traffic when I drive us up the coast to the land I purchased. I want to be alone with her, but I also want her to have a clear view and understanding of what I’m going to ask.
Because the area is undeveloped, I park off the road in the middle of a small, cleared area. There’s a path to the edge that overlooks Harbor Lake, the same one I used when I came out the first time, and I help Devyn over some of the debris laying on the forest floor.
The air is scented with pine, snow, and cold.
Squirrels rattle the bare branches, and moonlight struggles through the drifting clouds.
We hear the water pounding against the rocky shore before we reach the edge, and when we clear the line of trees, the lighthouse shines its light across the water, a hopeful beacon to anyone who can see it. It had been my haven, my place to hide, but with Devyn with me, I don’t have to hide anymore.
“I never thanked you for what you did,” I say, flicking a glance in her direction.
She’s stepping over sticks and small logs, looking into the trees’ branches.
“Beau did, and it’s okay. You didn’t want me to, and I can understand if you’re still mad, but Rick, that’s who I am, it’s what drove me to be a reporter in the first place. I don’t do it to cause trouble, I do it because the truth should always come out. No one knew Fred McAllister was a lying scumbag. Why would anyone think that? Why would anyone think Neil Simpson was hooked on Sweet? I had no idea I would uncover something like that—I’m only glad I did. I hope it can help you feel better about things.”
“It does, and I’m not angry. When I went to see Bill, Renata was there, in his office. They’re getting married. She said the accident turned me into a different person, a person she no longer wanted to be with. She said if I’d been able to let the bitterness go, we would still be together.”
“Is that what you want?” Devyn asks. It’s the same question she always asks because she thinks if the accident wouldn’t have happened, we’d still be together, but it did and I can’t change it.
“No, because she’s right. The accidentdidturn me into a different person. I’m not the same man who went to work that morning, and that’s been part of my problem all along. I’ve been scared that you couldn’t love me like this. I did a lot of soul searching after I told you to leave me alone, lots of talking to someone who knows better than me.” I scoff. “And he made me realize that you have nothing to compare me to. You didn’t know me back then, you don’t know how I’ve changed. You love me now, how I am, and I found that impossible to accept.”
Her shoulders sag. “Rick—”
“I found it impossible, because I’ve let you down in so many ways.” I blow out a breath. “I hurt myself looking for you. I’ve been putting off an appointment, but I did something to my shoulder, hoisting myself up to the second floor. I almost didn’t find you after Everett and Stevie dumped you at the site, and I’ve been struggling with that, not being man enough to keep you safe. I can’t make love to you the way I want, I’ll never have you against the wall, outside under a tree, maybe not even on the couch. I hate it when you’re always asking me if I’m okay, when I should be the one asking you that. I won’t be able to get down onto the floor to play with our children. You say you love me, but sometimes I don’t think you understand just what you’ve fallen in love with. I’m a beast, Devyn, and I always will be.”
She tucks her hands into her pockets of her new jacket. The Cedar Hill police never did find her other one. Carefully, she picks her way over the sticks and rocks to me, stands by my side and looks over the water. “Then I guess this is confession time, huh?” Her breath streams white in the frozen air.
“What do you mean? There’s nothing you can say to me that will change how I feel about you.”
“Maybe not, but if we’re getting things into the open, then I should do my share of it now. I won’t be able to let it go, you know that right?”
Without her having to tell me, I know she’s talking about Stevie and Sweet. In a roundabout way, we can thank Stevie and Devyn’s stubbornness for us meeting. Without Newsom firing her, she never would have made it to Portland, never would have been assigned to interview me. Because I think Beau had it right. We didn’t meet in Cedar Hill because it wasn’t our time.
“I know.” I take a chance to touch her, briefly, moving some of her hair out of her face.