The Past Needs No Looking Back, Pain Left Behind

The whole way there, the air inside the car dropped below freezing.

The van ran west along the interstate highway, from Denver to the alpine lake.

More than three hundred miles, the road cutting through desert and scrubland, over stretches of red rock badlands.

Every view along the way could have been a phone wallpaper with a single careless shot.

At noon, when we stopped to eat, Neil ordered lamb skewers and lamb rib pilaf.

"Karen, if there's anything else you want, just order it."

Karen hooked her arm through Neil's and pouted.

"Thanks, Neil. How did you know these are all my favorites?"

Then she jerked her chin toward me. "Felicity's still sulking. Go on, cheer her up."

Neil shot me a glance. "Boss, three more of the cream-topped yogurt."

A little while later his message popped up on my phone.

"Take a lesson from Karen. You're a grown woman and still this childish."

"Making a sick person look after you instead. Aren't you ashamed?"

I closed the chat and laid my phone face down on the table.

The food came out fast, and Karen snapped photo after photo of the dishes.

Neil was amused by her.

"This is that thing you girls always say, the phone eats first, right?"

Karen nodded, saying she'd never had carrots before, that they were so sweet.

Then that the lamb ribs smelled amazing, the best she'd ever eaten.

Seeing I hadn't touched my chopsticks in ages, she picked up a piece of lamb rib and set it in my bowl.

I lowered my eyes and, the next second, passed it to Neil.

Neil took a bite of the lamb rib. "Let her go hungry. If she doesn't want to eat, don't make her."

"She can eat once she's come to her senses."

"I've been spoiling her too much lately. Her temper just keeps getting worse."

But he'd forgotten. I never eat lamb. The gaminess.

Stomach acid rose up my throat, and I bit into a piece of flatbread to force it back down.

Farther on we passed the canyon bridge, and Karen waved excitedly for the guide to stop the car.

The slope below the overlook was thick with soft green grass.

But half a step farther, the turf simply ended and dropped away into a canyon with no bottom in sight.

Karen leaned in close to Neil, opened the video on her phone, and pointed at the slope. "Neil, look!"

"I saw a ton of people online filming check-in videos out there. It looks so cool."

Neil raised his phone, his voice gentle. "Then stand carefully. I'll film it for you."

Karen wheedled. "No, I want Felicity to film me. You straight guys don't have a clue."

Neil hesitated for only an instant before he pushed me toward the slope.

My legs went weak and I dropped into a crouch, leaning back, gripping the grass on the ground for dear life.

Neil's brows drew tight. "It's just a video, a few seconds. She's sick. Bear with it."

I'm afraid of heights. Even looking down from a second-floor balcony makes my legs go soft.

Neil knew that.

Before, he always kept me on the inside, away from the edge, his big hand locked tight around mine.

Telling me he was there, not to be afraid.

But whenever Karen was around, everything about me stopped mattering to him.

Seeing me sit there frozen on the ground, face white, Karen burst out laughing.

Then turned around and let Neil, the clueless straight guy, film her after all.

He crouched, then half-lay on the ground, all to get her a better shot.

Karen clutched his hand, watching the video he'd just taken, bouncing on her heels.

"Not bad at all. I honestly didn't think you'd be this good at filming, Neil."

"God, I'm so jealous of you, Felicity."

I looked at this man in front of me, dazed.

Before, every time I pulled out my phone at a meal, he thought I was embarrassing.

Every time I wanted him to film something to remember, his whole face turned to distaste.

"I really don't get you girls. What's there to film? Such a hassle."

Watching the two of them, the longer I looked, the tighter my chest closed.

So I just shut my eyes and pulled on my sleep mask.

When the car started moving again, I no longer knew.

At three in the afternoon I woke to find we'd already reached the alpine lake.

The moment the car stopped, Neil got up and pulled open the door beside me.

A wave of cold poured into the car, and I shivered, clutching my collar, shaking all over from it.

The alpine lake sits over six thousand feet up, and on the climb the temperature had dropped ten degrees in an instant.

I stood, took the down jacket I'd packed out of the trunk.

But Neil snatched it away and draped it over Karen's shoulders.

"Karen's frail. She left in a hurry and didn't bring a coat."

"You're healthy. You can tough it out."

"The wind will do you good, clear your head."

I froze, staring at Neil, shaking with rage.

My fists clenched, nails biting into my palms.

Every fraction harder I pressed, the sharper the pain grew.

In that moment, it hit me that these six years of love had meant nothing at all.