“How can there be no future? We love each other.”
He cups my cheek, trailing his thumb over my lower lip. “Love isn’t always enough, Skye.”
“Love conquers all.”
“You’re better than a cliché,” he says. “You’re smarter than that.”
I nod. I can’t fight the truth of his words. Love doesn’t always conquer all, no matter how strong it is. For whatever reason, he won’t bind me at the neck. And for whatever reason, I need him to.
“I will answer your question, Braden,” I say. “That’s why I came here. To figure this stuff out. But when I answer yours, I expect you to answer mine. I want to know why it’s your hard limit.”
He nods. “I always intended to.”
“Then I’ll hold you to it.”
…
Our backyard is large, and one of our fields juts up against it, separated by chain-link fencing. It is, of course, the field where I got lost. I was never allowed to go anywhere near the other fields, as there’s no access from the house.
I breathe in deeply, willing my heart to remain steady. It wants to race, but I won’t let it. If I can’t control my body, what can I control? Not much.
I lead Braden to the chain-link gate at the far side of the yard.
“Is this where you went into the cornfield?” he asks.
“Yes. The gate was open.”
“Did you know how to open the gate?”
“Yeah. But I never did.”
“Were you allowed in the field?”
I nod. “As long as my mom was nearby and as long as I didn’t go in too far.”
“But that day, you went in.”
“Yeah. I was chasing a praying mantis, remember?”
“Right. You liked bugs.”
I smile at the memory. “I was never a girly girl. I played in the mud. I never wore dresses except on special occasions. I didn’t even wear makeup until my senior year of high school.”
“Did you help with the farming?”
“Not the actual farming, no. But I helped Mom dry and can corn in the fall. I helped her with her craft fairs and baking. That kind of stuff.”
“Did you ever want to help in the fields?”
I shake my head vehemently. “Not after that day.”
“Okay. Where did you go from here?”
I point. “See that post in the distance?”
“Yeah.”
“That’s where the scarecrow used to be. It’s where I hit my head and knocked myself out.”
“That’s pretty far for a little kid.”
“Believe me, it seemed like miles, especially when you can’t see over the corn stalks.”
He looks around. “Praying mantises are green, right?”
“Yeah.”
He wrinkles his forehead. “How the hell could you chase it in here? Didn’t it blend in with the stalks?”
“Not really. It’s a different shade of green.”
“Ah,” he says. “Your photographer’s eye.”
“I suppose so. My mom actually asked me the same thing once I came to and told her what I was doing. To me, the greens are totally different.” I let out a breath. I’m feeling better. Talking helps.
“Totally different?” Braden says, one eyebrow quirking.
“Okay. Subtly different. But I can see the difference.”
Braden grabs my hand. “You’re cold as ice.”
“Am I? I thought I was feeling better.”
“It’s okay. Nothing is going to hurt you.”
“Because you’ll protect me, right?”
“Always,” he says, “but you don’t need me to protect you here.”
“I know.” I choke out a laugh. “I was kidding.”
“I know you were. Do you realize that you use humor when you’re nervous?”
“Do I?”
“You do.”
We walk through the plowed pathway, moving farther and farther out, toward the old scarecrow pole. We don’t seem to be getting any closer, though, until it juts out from the ground and stops me in my tracks. I resist the urge to cry out in surprise.
“Here we are,” Braden says.
“Yes.”
“Take this place back, Skye.”
“What do you mean?”
“Here it is. It’s an old pole. Nothing can harm you here. So take it back. Take back the power it stole from you all those years ago.”
“Have you ever done anything like that?” I can’t help asking.
“This isn’t about me. It’s about you.”
“But have you—”
“You have no idea what I’ve had to take back in my life.”
“Will you tell—”
“Damn it, Skye. Must you always be so obstinate?”
I let out a nervous laugh. “Isn’t that why you love me?”
He shakes his head. “God help me. You’re partially right.”
I smile. Sort of. “I understand what you’re trying to do, but I don’t need to take this back, Braden. It doesn’t scare me.”
“Doesn’t it?”
“No. I admit to being reluctant to come here, but I’m fine now. Really.”
I’m not lying. My heart is beating normally, and my skin is no longer chilled. I’m okay.
“Then perhaps you’re wrong.”
“About what?” I ask.
“Maybe this isn’t what gave birth to your need for control.”
“No, this is it,” I say. “I didn’t realize until I got here, though, that this place isn’t anything to hamper my life. Besides, I gave up control. To you. Remember?”
“You did. Or rather you may think you did.”
“What do you mean?”
“Feeling out of control is related to anxiety. That’s how you feel when you lose control in a situation. That’s probably how you felt when you got lost here all those years ago.”
I nod.