He motions behind me. “Chair lift will take you.”
I watch the chairs swing from the belt as they move up the mountain. There’s no window to shut. Only open air and a thirty-foot drop. My stomach immediately twists, and my palms start to sweat. I can feel the fear taking over. I shake my head. No fucking way.
Beside me, Baxter watches the chairs moving, his tail wagging with excitement. I can tell he’s dying to go for a ride.
“They’re coming down, right?” I ask. I can always wait to talk to Chloe after the ceremony.
He looks at his clipboard. “Reception goes until eleven thirty.”
I glance at my watch. It’s seven. Fucking hell. I’m going to have to ride this chair lift if I want to see Chloe. Or wait four hours.
I watch a young family board the lift. Surely those parents wouldn’t be taking their children on that if it were a death trap. The logic is there, but where heights are concerned, my brain doesn’t do logic.
I think of Chloe at the Eiffel Tower. How she encouraged me to face the fear. She held my hand and helped me focus on my breathing. I felt like I could do it when she was with me. But now she’s at the top of this mountain and I don’t even know if she’ll see me if I happen to make it up there.
Baxter licks my hand, then moves toward the lift. Without hesitation, he jumps on the chair that is swinging around. The lift operator presses the button to halt the chair’s progress.
“Dude, are you getting on?” he calls. “Your dog can’t ride alone.”
Trying to steady my shaking hands, I ball them into fists and take a breath.
I want to see Chloe. I need to see Chloe. I have to get on this lift.
That’s my mantra right now.
Baxter barks.
“Yeah, yeah. I’m coming.”
The entire ride up, I’m sweating. I want to puke but I keep my gaze up. Baxter is sitting calmly beside me and I am unreasonably mad at him. How can he be so calm so high up?
I hold onto Baxter with one hand but my grip is still firmly on the chair lift.
“Sir, you’re going to need to put the bar up,” the attendant says to me as we get closer. My legs are shaky and I’m not even standing yet.
“I know,” I say a bit breathless.
Another beat passes. My eyes are closed tight.
“Sir? The chair lift is going to go around.”
I can’t do it. I’m willing my hands to move to lift up the bar but I can’t. There are alarms going off now and I’m not sure if it’s in my head or really happening.
The sounds are still going as I realize we’ve stopped. The attendant is pulling the bar from my hands and there’s a group of people ahead staring at me. I stand but stumble back a bit before putting Baxter on the ground. I move out of the way just enough for the chair lift to continue and I lean over, trying to take deep breaths. I need my heart rate to slow down.
“Barrett?” I hear Chloe behind me. I want to be excited to see her, but my vision hasn’t returned yet. “Oh my God, are you okay?” I hear her rushing toward me.
I open my eyes and find her there, kneeling in front of me in a lavender dress. Her red hair is pinned back with a few loose strands framing her face. Her blue eyes wide with concern. It seems impossible that she looks more beautiful than the last time I saw her.
“Oh my God! Baxter!!” She laughs as he runs and jumps into her arms, no longer in fear of the alarm I set off. I watch as Chloe massages his ears and rubs her face against his. I was counting on him to help me, not steal the show. “How did you get him back?”
“He never left,” I say, my breathing finally evening out.
Her brows crease with confusion. “He was adopted. I called the foster program.”
“I adopted him.” I clear my throat. “I mean, we adopted him.”
With a final pat to Baxter’s head, Chloe stands.
My hands move to her cheeks. I pull her closer, my forehead presses to hers. Damn. It feels so good to touch her again.
“We were taking pictures. The bridal party. And we heard the lift alarm and I saw you.”
Her hands wrap around my wrists. Initially, I think it’s so she can touch me, too, but she pulls my hands away from her face and steps back.
“I’m glad you’re okay, but I can’t do this.”
Seeing her. Feeling her. I’d forgotten what I wanted to tell her.
“Chloe, wait.” I reach for her hand. “I need to explain. I’m sorry. I messed up. With you. With us.”
She pulls her hand away and crosses her arms against her chest, but she doesn’t make a move to leave. Hope blooms inside my chest. As long as she’s willing to listen, I know I can make it right between us. I have to. I love this woman so much; I don’t know what I’ll do if she walks away again.