Hannah pulled up to her house and went inside. She hoped for some solace there, for the comforts of her mountain home and fireplace and favorite leather chair.

But the quiet emptiness of her home screamed at her. It was no quieter than it was earlier that day, a week ago, or a year ago. Yet, the place somehow felt like no one lived there or had visited in years, and would never visit again.

Jeff had been right. She really was going to die alone.

Cain had told her that Jeff was an asshole and that she would never end up alone. He’d been wrong. He was only being nice, hoping to make her feel better. Or perhaps he really believed she would find someone to spend her life with, knowing full well it would never be him.

And if she couldn’t spend her life with Cain, she couldn’t spend it with anyone. There would never be another man like Cain, who understood her and accepted her for who she was…

But didn’t love her.

With that thought, with that terrible thought, Hannah collapsed into her chair, tears pooling in her eyes until she began to sob. She cried so hard that her body shook, her face hurt, and snot dripped onto her tank top.

She cried over her anger at Cain, at his stubbornness and his obstinacy and his unwillingness to love her like she loved him. She cried over her anger at herself, for not giving him the room he needed, for grilling him and pushing him to say the thing that he never wanted to say, the thing he knew would break her heart, right after she’d handed it to him for safekeeping. She cried some more, over her own stupidity, her willingness to open herself up the way she did with Cain, for being vulnerable and dismantling the wall around her heart brick by brick, just to have him kick her as hard as he could, the same way her mother let her father kick her again and again.

That’s what men do. They pursue you, they treat you well, they give you gifts and affection and attention, and give you a safe place to open up your body to them, and then your heart… and when you finally do, they look for some other woman to conquer.

Her mom had said that once, when Hannah was only fifteen, and her mother had gotten drunk at Christmas.

And now, Hannah had become her mother. She’d become a sucker, a needy, clingy fool who loved a guy who could never love her back.

Finally, the tears died down. There were only so many tears she could manage, and between her High Peaks finish and tonight, a non-crier like herself had used up multiple years’ worth in less than a week.

And what could she do? She loved him, and he didn’t love her. It was that simple.

Finally, Hannah lay on her couch with her fleece blanket over her, and fell asleep.

She awakened just before five in the morning, after having bad dreams. Memories of the night before came rushing back, and the quiet that had always soothed her now seemed oppressive.

She got up and put on some shorts, a tech top, and her hiking boots, slipping on a long-sleeved base layer to warm her in the morning dawn. She set out on a hike, her blisters mostly healed and her body far less stiff and sore now.

High Peaks had only been a week ago? It seemed like much longer.

She worked so hard to make that High Peaks finish, and had such an amazing experience. And in less than a week, the universe took something else away. Something even more precious to her. Suddenly, she recalled something Cain told her last year, in the med tent: If you put all your eggs in one basket, the universe will find a way to take it from you.

Her hike helped clear her head. But the trail was filled with landmines—familiar sights, trail signs, and trees triggered memories of time spent with Cain during her training. Back when he cared about her, before she made the error of becoming weak and dependent on him. Tears threatened, but Hannah willed them away.

She was done with that shit. She would be a sap no more.

The following week seemed endless. Hannah went for a couple of short runs to get some of the kinks out of her body again. She tried to get her mind off Cain, but it was far more difficult than it was when he’d left for deployment.

Later that night, when her phone rang, her stomach jumped. Cain often called on Friday nights, if he wasn’t working. But it wasn’t Cain. It was Diana.

“Hey sweetie!” came Diana’s lively voice.

“Hey, D. How are you?”

“Can’t complain. Jesse is sleeping for once. I’m telling you, that kid got his father’s genes. He wants to be on the go, all the time. So, it’s a good time to talk and I hoped I would catch you now that you aren’t running day and night!”

Hannah tried to smile. “I squeaked out a couple of recovery runs this week and I felt stiff as anything. But thanks again for everything. I can’t tell you how great it was to see you guys out there. And Asher—he was a real inspiration up on Spruce Pass. You found yourself a good one, D.” Too bad she’d never do the same for herself.

“I’m telling you, Hannah,” Diana said wistfully, “not in a million years would I have guessed he’d be my guy and the best thing that ever happened to me. But maybe I’m preaching to the converted… I could tell how great you and Cain are together. I swear, I think that guy would’ve walked through fire if it meant you finished that race healthy and happy.”

Hannah bit her lip, the stupid tears nagging at her again. “He’s gone, D.”

Silence. Then, “What?”

“We broke up.”

“How is that possible?” Diana cried, her voice shooting up an octave while trying to remain hushed to avoid waking Jesse.

“You don’t want to know. Everything’s been about me lately, and I can’t take it anymore.”

“No, sweetie. You will not pull that with me. Everything was about me for a long time, what with the drama with Matthew, the wedding dress debacle, and Asher and then the baby… it’s your turn to get some love. Come on. Tell me everything before Jesse wakes up.”

Hannah sighed. She told Diana about what she said to Cain after she finished High Peaks, and about his withdrawal and their fight. She didn’t mention the “no.” She couldn’t do it.

“Am I crazy, D? Does that seem like normal behavior to you?”

“No, not to me. But I don’t know him like you do. The real issue is whether it was normal to you. If it was, you wouldn’t have felt weird about it or brought it up.”

“But maybe I was just being insecure because I dropped the L word…”

“Maybe. But was it normal for him to be that grouchy?”

“No.” It wasn’t. Cain wasn’t exactly Mr. Sunshine and Rainbows, but he wasn’t rude until that night. And that was weird, especially after his return from deployment, when he’d begun to seem happier and less burdened by his past.

“There you go. Trust your gut on this, Hannah. The fact that he was being so defensive shows that he knew he wasn’t acting right. Have you heard from him at all?”

“No. And I won’t.” Hannah sighed. “It’s my own fault. The signs were there all along and I just refused to see them. He said he wasn’t ready to get married or move in with someone, and I never cared about that, but what he was really saying is that he could never love me. I never cared much about love before, and suddenly I’ve turned into my mother.”

“You are not like your mother, Hannah! Unlike her, you’re willing to walk away if he isn’t what you need. And I suspect he does love you. Maybe he just has to work through some issues—”

“He doesn’t love me.”

“You don’t know that—”

“I do. He told me.”

A pause. “What do you mean, he told you?”

“I asked him that night. I made him say yes or no. He said no.”

“He actually said no?” she cried. “You asked him outright and he fucking said no?”

“Correct.”

“Jiminy Christmas, Hannah! I don’t even—” Hannah heard a voice in the background. Probably Asher. “Not now, sweetie,” Diana said to him.

“Let me talk to her,” Asher said in the background.

“Not now,” Diana whispered, her voice muffled. “She’s upset—” Hannah heard more muffled talking until Diana finally got back on the phone. “Sorry about that. The love of my life apparently has something to say to you that cannot wait. Is that okay?”

“Sure. Put him on.” Hannah smiled a little, picturing Asher gesturing at Diana to hand over the phone and Diana looking at him like he was crazy. It was so… them.

“Hannah,” came Asher’s voice.

“Hey, Ash. Thanks for everything last weekend. I was just telling D how amazing you were up on Spruce Pass—”

“My pleasure. You rocked it. But that’s not why I stole the phone. Listen to me, okay? If that dude told you he doesn’t love you, he’s a fucking liar.”

Hannah chuckled a little. “That’s sweet of you, but—”

“No, sweetheart. No buts. That dude loves you and I could tell. He’s just got his head up his ass, and that’s not your fault. You’re the brave one. He’s the coward. Remember that, alright?”

Before Hannah could answer, Diana was back. “I have to agree with Ash on this one.”

The passionate votes of confidence from her friends did make her feel better. But she knew it wasn’t true. Cain didn’t love her. And even if he did, he clearly didn’t want to, or he wouldn’t have said that. “I appreciate the support, D, I really do. But if you saw how guilty he looked when he said it… he looked like a man looks when he has to say the thing that he knows will break your heart. And I’m done. With him, and with the idea that someone like me can have… what you have.” Hannah pinched herself to avoid crying.

“Do not give up, Hannah. You can’t. You have no idea how big this is, sweetie. You opened your heart for the first time since I’ve known you, and I’ve known you since college. You let someone in, and he let you in, and it was a joy to watch. Everyone could see it. If you could see what I saw, you wouldn’t say those things. You finally let yourself love someone, and that’s a huge step for you. You took a chance on love, and just because it didn’t work out doesn’t mean it wasn’t worthwhile or that you won’t find it again. And don’t you dare rebuild that wall of yours. Because if you do, that’ll hurt you more, and you’ll end up dating more of those weak men who don’t understand you.”

“All I want is to build that wall again, D.”

“Yeah, because you’re raw and hurting. But that will pass. Don’t rebuild the wall. Just take some time to get some perspective on this.”

Hannah nodded. She could do that. “Okay.”

A couple weeks later, on Friday, Hannah gathered her camping gear and stuffed it all into her SUV. She drove over the Continental Divide and then south, taking the scenic route to her destination. A few hours later, she found a camping spot and set up her tent, then got dressed for a hike.

After hiking up to a viewpoint, she took in the view of the San Juan Range. It too was part of the Colorado Rockies, but the rugged peaks looked different than what she was used to near home. Over the years, she’d learned that each mountain range had its own unique look and personality.

Saturday morning, she dressed in warm layers and went to volunteer at the Wildflower 50, a 50-mile race where she would be responsible for checking in the racers and then manning an aid station all day. She was glad for the distraction. It had been three weeks since things ended with Cain. And while it still stung every time she saw anything that reminded her of him, which was almost everything, she’d finally passed the point where it made her want to cry.

As she worked all day and watched the runners fly through—or in some cases, limp through—she once again felt inspired. Seeing them all and helping them in any way she could cleared her head. And finally, she allowed herself to think about the thing she’d avoided for a while.

Cain.

All of it.

Their crazy first introduction on his doorstep. Their meeting again by chance at the Mile 80 medical tent. Their camping and backpacking, their separating and then reconnecting when Cain returned from deployment. Their relationship, and their spectacular journey together at High Peaks, followed by a spectacular breakup.

Cain’s struggles. His quiet periods and sitting up nights, and how they’d improved with time. How she gave him space when he needed it, and spent time with him when he needed it. How she fed him dinner and roasted him marshmallows and poured him bourbon, and indulged his strange need to screw her outside in the wilderness, no matter how cold it was or how sweaty they were.

And then there was everything he gave her. His wisdom about ultrarunning and goal setting. His taking her camping and even carrying her when she was injured. His unwavering care during her race. And his unconditional acceptance of her for who she was, while encouraging her to be the better person she was capable of being.

Everything changed when she met Cain. She’d never cared if a guy worked too much or didn’t call… until Cain. She’d never missed a guy when he was gone… until Cain. She’d never wanted to get closer to someone… until Cain. And she’d never said “I love you” to any man…

Until Cain.

But he’d reached his limit. He couldn’t give her any more than he had. Part of her wished she didn’t want more, but she knew she did. And there was no way around that fact.

She could resent him for that. She could be angry that he didn’t love her back. But she wouldn’t. Because in the end, Cain really had been the best thing that ever happened to her. Diana was right—she had opened her heart because of him. He’d taught her what it was to love.

And even if Cain couldn’t love her the way she needed, he still gave her that gift. She’d always have that, no matter what.