Her hormone-saturated brain slogged through possible answers.
“I need to know, Mimi.”
“I want...yeah, a career. I want to teach and work with kids and make the environment better. I don’t need a mansion.” She gestured at her place. “This is fine. And I have a family. A wonderful family.”
His returning nod was solemn. “Good. That’s good.”
“What do you want?” she asked in return, trying to decipher what he wasn’t saying.
“I want to be the mayor of Dallas. I want more nieces, or a nephew. I like my mansion.” His smile was lopsided, if not a little sad.
Tears burned behind her eyeballs but she refused to let them fall. The question was asked—a question they’d asked several times over in many different ways.
What did they want?
Chase wanted his life the way it was. Miriam wanted hers the way it was.
No matter how much they wanted each other, that barrier wasn’t going anywhere.
“Have a safe flight.” She cleared her throat when the words came out tight with emotion. She had to let him go. For the last time. “I guess it’ll be a while before you return to Montana, huh?”
His smile faltered. “A little while.”
“You’ll be reelected, Chase. I’m certain of it.”
“And you—” he moved a stray curl from her eye “—will be reinstated to MCS. I’ll make sure of it.”
“Don’t do...whatever it is you’re thinking of doing. It’s my job. I’ll handle it.”
“It’s my fault you’re not there.” Before she could argue, he stole one last kiss. It was far too brief. “Goodbye, Mimi.”
“Goodbye, Chase.”
He turned for the door without looking back.
And she didn’t watch him go.
* * *
On the flight to Dallas, Chase watched out the window as clouds passed under the belly of the private jet. He’d taken Pen’s advice and asked Mimi what she wanted. He’d given her the chance to say...well, whatever she wanted. Whatever she was brave enough to tell him.
What Mimi had told him was what he should have expected. She wanted to work at Montana Conservation Society and shape the youth of tomorrow. But more than what she had said was what she hadn’t said.
A speech from ten years ago played in his head.
Back then she hadn’t minced a single word. She’d plainly told him they were destined to be together. That they could weather any storm—be it geography or finances or the disapproval of either of their families. She’d mentioned them getting married, an idea that hadn’t sounded as horrible to him as he knew it should’ve. She insisted she’d make a great lawyer’s wife, and mentioned how handy—if she ever had to sue someone—it would be to have someone as smart and brave as him on her side.
“We can weather any storm,” he mumbled to the window. And yet the literal storm they’d weathered—the blizzard that brought them back together—had been the very thing to drive them apart.
He swiped his face, tired from not sleeping. He’d sat up with a glass of wine or lain and stared at the ceiling over the last two nights, at a loss for what to offer her. The only answer he came up with in those dark, silent hours was to give her what he owed her. Her life back.
Emmett returned to the cabin holding a pair of rocks glasses with a couple of inches of amber-colored liquid in each. “Scotch?”
“If I say no, will you drink both?” Chase asked. One o’clock was early for a nip, but what the hell. Maybe it’d numb the pain that was a permanent resident of his chest.
“Looks like you’re the one who needs both.” Emmett had insisted on flying out. Said they could make a plan on the flight home for the “situation” in Dallas.
Emmett lowered his big body into the seat across from Chase, eyebrows raised in question.