Prologue
13 Years Ago
Ellie’s POV
I ran my fingers through my honey-blonde hair, smoothing it over my shoulders before brushing my palms down the front of my sunflower-yellow summer dress. No creases. No wrinkles. The fabric hugged my 5′5 frame softly—pretty rather than suggestive—though a tiny, traitorous part of me hoped Caleb might look at me and think, wow.
Samantha emerged from the bathroom in a cloud of hairspray and bubble-gum perfume, dressed in a white mini skirt and a black crop top that showed off the soft muscle tone she’d kept from her athletic days. Her black curls bounced freely down her back, her fair skin lightly made up.
I could smell alcohol on her breath.
She popped her gum when she caught me staring and rolled her eyes. You’d never guess she was twenty-one with the way she acted.
“Why don’t you just come with me to the airport?” I asked. “To pick up our best friend we haven’t seen since last Christmas?”
She sighed dramatically. “Because he isn’t the same person he was when he first left three years ago. Every year he came back, he acted like he was better than us.”
I frowned. “He’s never acted funny around me.”
Though, to be fair, I only ever saw him for a few hours during his short four-day Christmas visits.
Caleb had left right after high school. His parents—Aunt Maggie and Uncle Ethan to me—gave him a chance to travel, to find himself, before settling into adulthood. They were strict but fair, and they wanted all six of their kids to build successful, meaningful lives.
Caleb loved the wilderness, so that’s where he went. South America. Different U.S. states. Even Europe. Always on seasonal work contracts. And now, after three years, he was finally coming home.
Samantha was still bitter about it. She’d had a crush on him since freshman year, but he’d been too focused on sports back then. She thought they’d become something after graduation, but her college fund disappeared into her father’s gambling debts and her mother’s failed business attempts. She’d had to work straight out of high school while Caleb—and I—got our chances.
My eyes drifted to the open envelope on my desk—my Yale School of Art admission letter. After being waitlisted and told tuition would be impossible... three years later, I had a full-ride scholarship. Only my parents and brother knew. I hadn’t told Samantha. I didn’t want her to think I was rubbing it in her face.
She hadn’t been very happy for me when I got into the college in the town over for Graphic Design & Visual Communication after high school.
When she told me she liked Caleb, I swallowed my own feelings whole. I’d loved him quietly since kindergarten, but she’d said it first. And she was my only female friend. So I stepped back. Let her fawn over him year after year.
While I spent weeks away at school, she drifted into a new crowd—questionable habits, questionable boys. We were still close, but she chose them over me more often than not.
The clock showed five minutes before I had to leave.
Samantha’s phone buzzed. “Well, Ruffis is here. I’m leaving. Good luck with Caleb.”
She was gone before I could respond.
From my bedroom window, I watched her climb into the old Mazda and disappear down the road. Ruffis was the newest boy in her string of distractions—each one lasting until he either got too attached or lost access to cheap substances.
I checked the mirror one last time, grabbed my handbag, and opened my wallet for parking change—my stomach dropping when I noticed my fifty-dollar note was missing.
My heart cracked for her. She wasn’t a bad person. Just sinking into bad places.
I hurried downstairs, kissing Dad on the cheek, hugging Mom, waving at Matt as he kept playing Xbox. The front door slammed behind me, and I flinched, whispering a soft “Sorry” toward the kitchen window.
My blue F-250 waited in the driveway—every bolt and dent a memory of weekends spent fixing it with my dad. Caleb used to come over, holding tools and laughing with us. They’d always had a second-family kind of bond.
Tonight, that bond was coming home.
I took a deep breath and drove.
Caleb’s POV
Exhausted, sweaty, and more irritated than I cared to admit, I stepped off the plane and grabbed my bag. Five hours in the air, a cranky stewardess, and too little sleep—far from ideal. Thankfully, it was a small airport, and baggage pickup didn’t take long.
Twenty minutes later, I stood outside, wondering which sibling had been assigned the job of fetching me. Probably Emma or Noah—the only two with licenses.
Instead, a familiar blue F-250 rolled up.
And Ellie stepped out.
Wavy hair. Sunflower dress. A smile soft enough to punch the air from my lungs.
Sweet, beautiful, thoughtful Ellie.
One of the only things I truly missed about home.
I’d cared about her since kindergarten. My parents teased me relentlessly, but I never made a move. Partly because her father scared the hell out of me. Mostly because she was my friend.
If anything could’ve convinced me to stay all those years ago... it would’ve been her.
But Dad wanted me to explore. Grow up. Learn responsibility. Then come home and settle into a career. Wife. Kids. Stability. The whole package.
Ellie walked toward me, and everything I’d tried not to feel for years came rushing back.
“Ellie, who gave you the horrible task of picking up grumpy old me?” I teased, pulling her into a hug.
She kissed my cheek—friendly. Innocent.
I hated how much I wanted more than friendly and innocent.
“Would you believe me if I said I practically begged your parents to let me pick you up?” she giggled into my ear.
The sound shot straight down my spine.
I loaded my bag into the truck and hurried to open her door before she could.
“Ma’lady,” I said dramatically, bowing.
She rolled her eyes, smiling.
Inside, we sang along to old country songs like we were the ones who wrote them. It was an hour’s drive back to Brookhaven—population 2,946 last time I checked.
Halfway down the highway, she lowered the radio.
“So tell me everything,” she said. “Christmas visits were always too short. You barely had time to breathe, let alone talk.”
I ran a hand through my short hair. “A lot happened. Long weeks. Longer nights. I worked trails, fire lines, youth programs. Learned I’m better with kids than I thought. Learned I sleep better under trees than under a roof.”
I chuckled. “Unless you want the full Caleb vs. a stubborn tree root saga.”
Her eyebrows shot up. Then the giggles came—real giggles—and one unmistakable snort. That did dangerous things to me.
“Okay, fine,” I sighed. “You want the tree-root story? Just—don’t laugh.”
She nodded, pretending to be serious.
“So we were clearing a trail after a storm. Big mess. Trees down everywhere, mud up to our ankles. And there’s this one root—one. Single. Root.” I held up a finger. “Looked harmless. I figured I’d pull it out, toss it aside. Easy job. Right?”
Ellie nodded solemnly.
“Well. Turns out this root was basically holding the entire mountain together. I pulled—nothing. Pulled again—slipped, nearly face-planted. Third try, I put my whole weight into it, and the thing snapped so fast I fell backward into the mud. Full-body imprint. Hat gone. Pride: dead.”
Ellie covered her mouth, fighting laughter.
“Don’t,” I warned. “You weren’t there. It was tragic.”
She laughed anyway.
“It gets worse,” I continued. “Right as I stood up—covered in mud like some swamp creature—the trainee ranger we’d just hired comes around the corner and says—”
I cleared my throat, pitching my voice painfully high. “‘Oh! Are you demonstrating soil absorption techniques?’”
Ellie lost it completely. I shook my head, smirking despite myself.
“I’m glad you’re enjoying my trauma,” I muttered.
“Did you say anything back?” she asked, wiping a tear from her eye.
“No. I just stood there and said, ‘Yep. Controlled fall. Perfect execution.’ Then I tried to walk away confidently and immediately tripped over the same damn root.”
Ellie collapsed into laughter.
“Moral of the story,” I finished, “never underestimate nature. And never trust a root that looks innocent.”
Then, softer—almost under my breath—“Just... the kind of thing I wanted to tell you if I were here longer.”
Ellie tilted her head, eyes sparkling in that way she probably didn’t realise melted me. “So let me get this straight... you were defeated by a tree root.”
I gave her a look.
“I always thought you were supposed to be, you know... strong,” she teased, biting back a smile.
“Oh yeah?” I crossed my arms. “Why’s that good to know?”
She looked away for a second—just long enough to hide the warmth rising in her cheeks—then glanced back with a soft, teasing edge. “Because it turns out you’re not as invincible as everyone thinks.”
A beat.
“Even you fall down sometimes,” she added gently. “Kinda makes you... human.”
Then, quieter, smiling, “Besides, I would’ve paid good money to see you covered in mud.”
My ears burned. She definitely noticed.
As we crossed Brookhaven Bridge, the sky burned orange-gold.
“Stop,” I blurted.
Ellie jerked the wheel. “Caleb! You scared me.”
But I was already out of the truck, heading for the railing. The town below glowed under the last wash of sunlight—chimneys smoking, silos bright, shop windows catching the fading light like tiny mirrors.
I’d seen sunsets everywhere.
But none like this.
Ellie joined me, bumping my shoulder. “Nothing like a Brookhaven sunset, right?” she whispered, leaning against me.
My heart pounded.
“Bugger it,” I muttered, slipping my arm around her waist.
She tensed—
Then softened.
Smiling.
The breeze cooled and she shivered. I pulled her closer. She turned in my arms, face tilting up.
“Caleb...” she whispered.
My gaze dropped to her lips.
She looked at mine.
I leaned closer.
She didn’t pull away.
Her breath brushed my mouth.
One inch.
Half an inch—
“I’m leaving...”
The words were so soft I almost missed them.
I froze. “What?”
She wrapped her arms around herself, pacing a few steps. “I got accepted into the school I’ve dreamed about since high school. I got the letter two weeks ago...”
Tears gathered in her eyes.
“I’m leaving tomorrow.”
The rest of the drive was quiet. Awkward. The music played low, but no words came. Every time I tried to speak, my throat closed.
When she pulled into my driveway, my whole family was outside—smiling, waving, excited.
Inside me, everything felt still.
We climbed out, pretending nothing had happened. Pretending nothing had almost happened. Ellie greeted my siblings—Emma, Noah, Lily, Hunter, Ava—with her usual warmth.
My parents pulled me into their arms, talking nonstop, but I didn’t hear a word.
All I heard were Ellie’s words replaying in my head.
I’m leaving.
Tomorrow.
I looked at her, but she avoided my eyes.
Because she knew.
Because I knew.
Because whatever chance I thought we had—
It slipped right through my fingers.
〰️〰️〰️ ✧ 〰️〰️〰️
“Sometimes the longest way around is the shortest way home.” — Susan Gale
Copyright © 2026 by Amor Taute
