that he was alive somewhere, not knowing who he was and therefore unable to get back to her?
Perhaps she was naive to hope. But she hadn’t wanted to give up. Now, however, on the three-year anniversary of Carter’s disappearance, she was wondering if she had simply been lying to herself the entire time.
Just because you wished something was true didn’t make it so.
After three years, Brianne needed some sort of closure, and that closure would not come by hanging on to the hope that Carter might return. As hard as it was going to be, she had to say a final goodbye to him.
If Carter had not returned yet, it was likely that he never would. Her sister, Shayna, had tried to encourage her to move on for her own sanity.
Brianne knew that Shayna was right. Moving on was truly the only way she would ever heal. Sometimes in life bad things happened. This was one of those times.
Brianne replaced the framed photo on her dresser and drew in a deep breath in an attempt to calm her frayed nerves. Perhaps a trip to the Rockies would help her get closure. She had felt helpless at the time when Carter was lost. The authorities had searched the mountains, as had Alex Thorpe—Carter’s best friend, who had accompanied him on the ill-fated hiking trip. Brianne had gone crazy with worry at a nearby hotel, waiting for word, unable to do anything to aid in the search. All she could do was pray.
There had been a memorial service organized by Carter’s family, held at the Rockies. But Brianne had stubbornly refused to attend and had instead returned home. One year later, in Buffalo, she had attended the memorial service marking the one-year anniversary of Carter’s disappearance. She had done so out of respect for Carter’s family rather than a desire to move on, but she had been angry at almost everyone in attendance—at all the people who had so quickly chosen to believe that their friend and family member was not coming back.
Before, Brianne had doggedly not wanted to give in to the belief that Carter was dead, as if just wishing him alive would influence reality.
Now she had to move on. And maybe the only way to do that was to go to the last place Carter had been seen alive. Have her own private memorial for Carter at the Rockies and bid him a final goodbye.
As she made her way downstairs to the kitchen, the idea felt right. Yes, she would plan a trip to British Columbia. It would be nice to go with Shayna, but her sister had just gotten married, and she and her new husband, Donovan, were still honeymooning in Jamaica. Brianne’s parents were also out of town, having decided to spend an extra week in Jamaica as well.
There was no reason Brianne couldn’t go to British Columbia alone. In fact, maybe that was best. A quiet time for reflection, to make peace with what had happened.
Brianne was a manager at Scented Suds, a store that sold a variety of luxury body soaps and lotions. As a manager, she was entitled to several weeks of vacation per year. But she had just returned from Jamaica two days ago and didn’t like the idea of requesting more time off without much notice. However, it was necessary. Alexis, the store’s assistant manager, would certainly be able to manage the store in her absence. Brianne would have to run the request by Marlene, the district manager. She didn’t doubt that Marlene—who knew firsthand the stress Brianne had gone through when Carter had disappeared—would allow her this additional time off.
Brianne got herself a low-fat granola bar and a bottle of water from the kitchen and then went back up to her room, where she booted up her laptop. The smart thing would be to check for flights and find out when it was most economically feasible to head to Canada. Then she could call Marlene with a definite time frame.
It would have been nice to be there today, the official anniversary. But the thought had come to Brianne too late. The truth was, it was a thought she hadn’t even considered. Perhaps it was seeing her sister and Donovan, so much in love on their wedding day, that was leading her to take that final step toward closure.
Three years had passed. It was time she made peace with the fact that Carter wasn’t coming back.
She was only twenty-seven. Far too young to accept that she would never get married. She couldn’t even imagine falling in love with someone else, but Brianne knew that time healed all wounds. One day, she would fall in love again.
While she couldn’t be at the Rockies today, Brianne had waited three years to get to the point where she finally felt like she could move on. She could wait a week or so more.
And for her, moving on meant more than accepting that Carter wasn’t coming back. It was letting go of the anger she felt toward Carter’s best friend, Alex. Alex had been with Carter that fateful day, and he had come out of the mountain alive. Her rational brain knew that Alex wasn’t responsible for what had happened to Carter, but he had never satisfactorily explained why he had gotten off the mountain and Carter had not.
Brianne had been looking for answers—something she’d made very clear to Alex on the few occasions that they’d spoken. Now, she was beginning to consider just how hard the whole ordeal must have been for Alex. To be the one who survived, while his friend had not. He had probably replayed the day’s events over and over in his head, wondering if there was one thing he could have done differently that would have changed the outcome. Brianne certainly had—and she hadn’t even been on the trip.
She wasn’t the only one who’d lost someone that cold November day. Alex Thorpe had lost a friend and business partner, and the guilt he felt because he hadn’t been able to save Carter had likely eaten at him over the years.
Brianne poised her fingers over the keyboard, ready to type. But then she thought she heard the doorbell.
Had she?
She paused, straining to listen. A few seconds later, she knew she had heard correctly when the doorbell sounded again.
She got up from the small desk in the corner of her room, wondering who might be here. It was early evening, just after six, but dark outside. She didn’t expect solicitors, nor a delivery person. Maybe it was her best friend, Kim, whom she’d spoken to earlier, coming to help get her mind off of the past.
Brianne hurried downstairs and then looked through the peephole as she always did before swinging the door open. But what she saw there made her reel backward.
Rather, who she saw there.
She was flabbergasted.
It may have been dark, but she knew her eyes were not deceiving her. Even if never in a million years did she expect to see him.
Indeed, two full years had passed since she’d laid eyes on him.
And yet, it made perfect sense that he was here. He, like she, had been forever affected by what had happened on this day three years ago.
The doorbell sounded again. Slowly, Brianne unlocked and opened the door. And there stood Alex Thorpe, on her small front porch, with a serious expression on his face.
And though Brianne had told herself only moments ago that she should hold no anger toward him, it flared again. As irrational as it was, Alex was a physical outlet for her pain and frustration. A person she could blame for something that had been out of everyone’s control.
“Brianne.” Alex spoke her name, as serious as the expression on his face.
Brianne said nothing. She didn’t know what to say. The last time she and Alex had spoken, two years ago exactly, he’d gotten her so angry she’d stormed off.
“It’s been a year, Brianne. There’s been no sign of him. No action in any of his bank accounts. And he was never documented crossing the border back into the States. Do you really expect Carter to walk back into your life? What are you hanging on to?”
And Brianne realized, in that instant, why she’d been so angry with Alex over the past couple of years. At first, she had thought it was because Alex had been Carter’s partner in crime—the guy Carter always went off with on his thrill-seeking adventures. From sky-diving to extreme skiing to base jumping off of buildings…to