Page 71 of Timber Ridge
The weight of her words settles heavily on my heart. I know she believes this is the right thing, but the fear of losing her and the uncertainty of the future make it almost impossible to accept. Yet, deep down, I know I have to let her go. For now.
She holds my hands and looks into my eyes. “I need you to hear me. It's important for you to know some things. I came here looking for a place where I could belong, and I found it. I found it with you and Hailey,” she says.
Her raw honesty hits me hard. “Then why is it so easy for you to leave?” I ask.
“It’s not easy,” she answers. “Leaving is the hardest decision I’ve ever had to make. But it’s not about what’s easy. It’s about what’s right—for Hailey, for Amanda, and even for us.”
I shake my head, struggling to reconcile her intentions with the pain of her departure. “How can it be right for us if you’re not here?”
“Because sometimes love means doing what’s best for the other person, even if it tears you apart,” she says. “And right now, Hailey needs to know her mother, to have the opportunity to create something. We’ve both felt the void of not having ours. We know what it’s like to miss that piece of our hearts.”
I look away, the tree line blurred by the mist in my eyes. “And what about my heart?” I ask. “Who fills that void when you’re gone?”
She squeezes my hands, pulling me back to meet her gaze. “This isn’t forever, Kane. I’m not closing the door on us. I’m asking you to hold on to the hope that there’s more to our story than just this goodbye.”
The idea of hope seems distant. Yet, as I stare into her eyes, filled with genuine love and pain, I find myself clinging to it. “And if it’s too hard? If the distance is too much?” I whisper.
“Then you decide. You give up or you fight for us.” She leans into me. “We’ll find a way because that’s what you do when you love someone—you fight. And I do love you, Kane. I’m not walking away from that.”
Her words, so fierce and certain, give me strength. I pull her into an embrace, my broken expectations shifting into something new and hopeful. Maybe this isn’t the end but a step toward a new beginning. As we hold each other, I let myself believe, just for a moment, that this goodbye might one day lead to a joyful reunion.
“I love you too, Timber. So much.”
She smiles through her tears, and I see the resolve in her eyes. “This space … it’s not to divide us. It’s to prove if what we have is made of the tough stuff that lasts.”
I nod, understanding now what she’s saying, even if it doesn’t make the goodbye any easier. “We’ll fight for it,” I say, my voice steady. “We’ll fight for us.”
We turn and walk back to the house, the silence between us now filled with a new understanding. The path seems shorter on the way back, each step a mix of bittersweet acceptance and a fragile hope for the future. I hold her hand tightly, not wanting to let go, even for a second.
Back at the house, we find Amanda and Hailey engaged in a game, the sight of them together offering a small reassurance that this painful decision might just be the right one. Timber squeezes my hand before letting go and joining them, her smile genuine despite the turmoil I know she carries inside.
That night, as the house settles into quiet, Timber and I find ourselves alone in her room. As I look at her, the need to make this moment unforgettable swells within me. I want her to carry this night with her, a solid reminder of what we have, what we’re fighting for.
I pull her close, my hands brushing her skin with deliberate care, as if I'm trying to imprint my touch, my love, into her being. We make love slowly, passionately, each movement filled with a desperate intensity. It's as if I’m imprinting my very being onto her, ensuring that she’ll never forget me, never forget us.
Every kiss, every caress, is a vow. Her fingers dig into my back, conveying the same urgency, the same need to hold on to this moment, to hold on to us.
Our bodies move together in a rhythm that’s both familiar and frantic.
When it's over, we lie tangled in each other’s arms, our breaths mingling in the darkness. I hold her tightly. She rests her head on my chest, her fingers tracing lazy patterns over my skin. Her tears seep into my heart.
“I’ll come back,” she says. “No matter what, Kane. I’ll come back to you.”
I press a kiss to her forehead, emotions heavy and full. “I’ll be here. I’ll be waiting.”
We fall asleep like that, holding each other as if the sheer force of our hug could keep the world at bay. And for that night, it does.
Chapter Thirty-Two
TIMBER
A week later, my departure day arrives. The dock bustles with townsfolk who have come to see me off. Hailey clings to me, her small frame trembling with sobs, her grip so tight it seems like she’s trying to fuse us together.
“I’ll be back,” I say, my voice cracking.
Hailey looks up, her tear-streaked face twisted in anguish. “You’re just like my mommy,” she cries, her voice breaking into a desperate wail. “You’re leaving me too!”
Her words cut through me like a knife. I try to soothe her, but her sobs only grow louder, her small body shaking with each heartbreaking cry.