It’s strange how life works. How one minute you’re living one life and the next you feel like everything around you is changing. Things between Cole and I have escalated so quickly sometimes I find myself having trouble keeping up.

Not that I’m complaining, quite the opposite actually. I love Cole. I mean, I’ve loved him over half my life, but loving him like this... I can’t even describe in words what that feels like.

I’m over the moon for our upcoming long weekend in New York. I’ve never been and until recently, never wanted to go. It was the place that stole Cole from me, so for years I despised it until I didn’t anymore.

So this morning I made the trip back to Irving to pack and check in on a few things before we leave.

I spend most of the afternoon stopping in to check on everyone, mainly Corrine and Joan. I haven’t seen them nearly enough recently, and since Cole and I are leaving, I wanted to see how they were all doing.

My first stop was Corrine. I went from spending at least every other Sunday at their house for dinner, to barely seeing either her or Kyle.

I’m pleased to see how quickly they’re adjusting to their unexpected pregnancy. The spare room is already under construction to become the new nursery, and I counted six large boxes of diapers sitting in the hallway next to the bathroom. Corrine says Kyle is out of control.

The entire time I was at their house Kyle wouldn’t let Corrine lift a finger. He waited on her hand and foot. While I could tell it grated on her a bit, she never complained probably because she knows how happy it makes him to take care of her.

Cole crossed my mind several times while I was there. So many things Kyle did I could imagine Cole doing for me if I were pregnant, which in turn made me wonder if kids were in our future, and what kind of mom I’d be if they were.

I didn’t have to wonder what kind of father Cole would be; I already knew the answer to that.

Amazing.

Just like he is with everything.

After leaving Corrine and Kyle’s I headed to Joan’s house. She seemed happier than I had seen her in a while; the support group she’s a part of is helping her in ways I never thought possible.

We spent most of our time together talking about Cole. She wanted to know everything. Of course I held back certain, too hot for mom ears, details, but otherwise confided in her a lot about how I was feeling.

How in love I am. How scared that makes me.

Of course, Joan gave me the one response I needed to hear.

“Being scared means it’s real. Hold onto that feeling.”

I plan to.

I was hoping to take her to dinner, but she already had plans with a lady from the support group. I’m so happy to see she’s made some friends.

I ended up leaving right around five so she had time to get changed, but was nowhere near ready to go home yet.

I guess that’s how I now find myself making the walk through the woods heading toward the fort. I feel like I need some way to connect it all. Where I was versus where I am now.

My phone vibrates in my coat pocket, and I smile the moment I see Sexiest Man Alive flashing across the screen.

“There’s my number one girl,” Cole chimes before I even say a word.

“Well hello to you too, handsome.” My smile is evident in my voice.

“I miss you. Please tell me you’re on your way back—like now,” he whines into the phone.

“I miss you, too.” I giggle. “But I already told you I’d be back in the morning. I need to pack for New York.”

“Wait, you were serious about staying at your place tonight? I thought you were just messing with me.” Even though he’s completely serious, I know he’s just picking on me.

“Hush. You knew I wasn’t coming there until the morning.”

“But. But.”

“Not buts, Cole Lincoln. I have things to do.”

“How’s Joan?” He switches gears with ease.

That’s how well he knows me. I didn’t even tell him I was stopping to visit her, and yet he knew that’s exactly what I’d do.

“She’s doing pretty well. I guess she’s made a few friends at the support group and has been meeting them for dinners and playing bingo. Her strength is astonishing.”

“That’s Joan.”

“Yes it is,” I agree.

“What are you doing now?” he asks.

“Heading back to the old fort.”

“Without me?” I can envision him holding his chest like I’ve just broken his heart.

“I just thought I’d stop out there for a minute.”

“Any reason why?”

“Not really. Just sounded good.” I shrug, turning sideways down the overgrown path to avoid getting any of the low hanging branches stuck in my hair.

“Well, be careful. And make sure you don’t stay long. It’s cold as hell today.”

I love how protective he is of me. He’s always been that way. Maybe less when we were teenagers, but I think even then he kept a close watch. I just didn’t realize it at the time.

“I won’t stay long. Promise. I need to leave enough time to pack.”

“You know.” I can hear the smile in his voice. “If you just moved in with me you wouldn’t have to go anywhere to pack your things.”

“What?” I croak, not sure if he’s really saying what I think he’s saying.

I mean, it’s only been a few weeks. Sure, we’ve known each other forever, but this is all so new to us. Then again, this is the first night we’ve spent apart in a month, so I guess we pretty much live together as is.

“You heard me. Move in with me.” Even though I was pretty sure I knew what he was going to say, just hearing him say it makes it hard to breathe.

“Cole.”

“I’m serious, Mel. Move in with me. We practically live together anyway.” He speaks my earlier thought. “I spent six years not having you in my life at all. I don’t want to waste another second I have with you.”

“Are you sure about this?” I question.

“Would I have asked if I wasn’t?”

Good point.

“Can I think about it?” I ask, quickly adding, “I mean, I want to, but I have a lot to figure out with the house and stuff.”

“We can figure it out together,” he says matter of fact.

“Can we at least wait until we get back from New York to talk about it?” I ask with a huge smile on my face.

Of course, I have my reservations, and I love my house, but if I’m honest with myself, the main reason I’ve been holding onto this place so tightly is because it was my only link to Cole. But now I have him, and he’s asking me to move in with him, to be with him every day.

How can I say no to that?

“If it means your answer is yes,” is his only reply.

“Fine. Yes.” I playfully huff like I couldn’t be more annoyed.

“Seriously?” Only then do I realize he wasn’t sure I’d say yes. I can tell by the surprise in his voice.

“Did you really expect me to say no?” I ask, finally stepping into the clearing, the old fort staring back at me.

“I hoped you wouldn’t.”

“Well I didn’t,” I retort.

“Well good,” he bites back playfully.

“I’m here,” I say, completely changing topics.

“How’s the old girl look?” he asks, knowing exactly what I’m talking about.

“Bout the same as the last time we were here. Though it looks like the roof is sagging a little more.”

“I should make a trip down there to fix it up some time.”

“Why?” I ask.

“Why? Maybe because that’s our spot, and I’m not ready to just let her die,” he huffs.

“I see.”

“Tell her hello for me.”

“Will do.”

“Call me later?” he asks.

“You know I will.”

“I love you, Melanie Anderson.”

“I love you, Cole Lincoln.”

I end the call and let out a loud exhale, feeling both overwhelmed and so happy I’m afraid I might burst all at the same time.

Standing in front of our old fort, realizing how much has changed, makes it even sweeter, knowing that this was it for us. This is where our friendship blossomed into something more, even though it took us both years to admit it. 

I never envisioned the future turning out the way it has.

I never expected to lose Michael at such a young age.

I never expected Dawn to turn out to be somewhat of a decent human being.

And I certainly never expected that Cole would actually love me back one day, though I dreamt about it every single night of my childhood.

It’s crazy to think that when the boys built this fort, we were just twelve-years-old. Four kids who had their whole lives ahead of them and seized each and every day as a brand new adventure.

Taking a seat on the hard, cold ground, I pull my legs up and hug them to my chest, just letting the memories wash over me.

If I close my eyes tight and listen hard enough, I swear I can hear us. Michael letting out that fully belly laugh that always made me smile. Dawn whining about it being too hot. And Cole—my Cole—sliding down next to me on the ground and dropping his arm over my shoulders like he always used to do.

This was it.

This was us.

Where it all began.

I sit at the fort for what feels like hours. The sun is starting to set and with it, the temperatures are rapidly dropping. I swear it’s never going to get warm again, and we are going to be forced to live in this never-ending winter forever.

It isn’t until I stand, wiping the small sticks and dirt stuck to the back of my jeans that I hear what sounds like a baby kitten crying. Instead of turning back like I should, I walk straight past the fort and further into the woods, my inner animal lover unable to walk away without at least investigating.

The further I go, the louder the noise becomes, and within just a few short minutes I’ve finally located the source—a small white kitten, near brown with dirt, at the bottom of the steep embankment where our now frozen, crawdad creek lies.

It has one hind leg tucked up under it and is crying out as it tries to climb the steep hill. Only the poor little thing just slides backward over and over again, unable to find its footing. Usually cats have excellent climbing ability, but this kitten is tiny, half starved, and only operating on three shaky legs. There’s no way it’ll make it out of there on its own, not anytime soon anyway.

“Hey there.” I speak softly but loudly enough it can hear me. Although cats have amazing hearing so I don’t know why I bother. It knew I was here the moment I arrived, probably sooner.

The kitten pays me no mind, limping around in circles before once again trying to climb up the hill. It makes it about three feet this time before sliding down onto the frozen creek bed below.

The hill is a tough climb on a normal, day but given how much snow we’ve had in recent weeks it looks near impossible. The paths are covered in white, the tree branches are laced with ice, and I can’t find one good way up or down.

The kitten continues to cry, now circling the creek trying to find another way up. Knowing I can’t just leave it down there to die, I try to find one of the old paths we always used to climb up and down as kids.

I spend several minutes before finally admitting it’s no use. Any reminisce of a path down to the kitten is either no longer viable or too covered in snow to find.

The sun is setting faster now, and I’m running out of time.

I consider calling Cole, but what can he do while he’s an hour and a half away? Pulling my cell from my pocket, I click on Kyle’s name and hit send. It rings over and over again before finally going to voicemail.

I try Corrine next, but she doesn’t answer either. I don’t bother leaving a voicemail and quickly hang up.

I run the options through my head. Joan isn’t home. I could call 911, but do they take calls about kittens lost in the woods? I have no idea, but it seems like a long shot that they’d be any help. Especially given that we’re kind of out in the middle of nowhere.

“Shit,” I mutter under my breath, nerves knotting my stomach.

It would be so easy to just walk away, to leave the kitten where it is and get out of these woods before it’s too dark to find my way out, but I just don’t have it in me to do.

I can’t leave it. It’s just not who I am.

So I do the only thing I can think to do. I find a spot that’s angled, with as many hanging branches nearby as possible and decide to use those to try to make my way down.

Sliding off my gloves for a better grip, I stuff them in my pockets before grabbing the branch closest to me. I give it a nice tug to make sure it’s sturdy before taking another step downward.

My feet slip almost instantly, but luckily I’m able to get a grip on a second branch and steady myself.

“I’m coming, baby kitty,” I say aloud, not sure if I’m trying to calm myself or the kitten.  “I’m coming,” I say again, successfully able to take another couple steps downward without losing my footing.

Just when I think I’m getting the swing of things, everything changes so rapidly that I quickly lose control of the situation.

I step but my foot doesn’t find the ground. It drops into a hole that’s hidden under the snow and my weight shifts so quickly I completely lose my grasp on the tree branches that have been my lifeline trying to get down.

It happens in slow motion. My right leg slams into a large rock causing my entire body to twist mid-air. My arms fly wildly around me, trying desperately to find something to stop my fall, but it’s too late.

I tumble backward, my head hitting the ground first. It collides with something so hard I can physically feel my teeth chatter together. My ears ring, and my consciousness wanes as I’m thrown further down the embankment.

I can feel each impact as it’s made. Feel my body hitting rocks, trees, and debris the entire way down.

I have no control, no ability to stop my descent. I am a prisoner of gravity, and no matter how hard I try I can’t do anything about it.

I hit the bottom on a loud thud, my left arm pinned beneath me, giving into my weight with a loud crack that sends pain searing through the limb.

I know it’s bad. I know I need to call for help, but I can’t seem to make myself move. Nothing works. It’s like I’m giving my body commands and nothing is responding.

I try to focus more, try harder to do something, but everything gives way to darkness—a tiny kitten cry the last thing I hear before everything goes black.