The most painful thing about this, I realize, is that I’m not surprised.

I pull the blanket tighter around my body, as much for comfort as to quash the slight chill lingering in the shade of our porch, despite the climbing temperature outside, and listen to the sound of tires over gravel as our pickup crawls up the driveway. Jonah arrived home half an hour ago, the approaching purr of Veronica’s engine bringing both relief—that he has arrived home safe, that it’s still early in the day—and a fresh wave of melancholy. I don’t know what he’s been doing in the hangar since he landed, but he certainly didn’t run home to me.

It’s left me with far too much time to dwell on my thoughts and insecurities, to dissect fond memories—the weekend he flew across the continent to tell me he can’t live without me, the morning he braved the snowy mountains and whisked me off to the cabin for Christmas, all those early nights tangled in sheets, sharing our best intentions.

I’m left wondering if that’s all they were—intentions. Has something changed? Have we changed in these last few months? Because those memories suddenly feel so far from where we are now—me here, day after day, finding ways to occupy my time until Jonah comes home, telling myself over and over again that what he does is important, that it’s only for the summer months, that I knew going in this is how it would be.

I’m tired of telling myself that.

I didn’t really know this is how it would be. At least, I didn’t know how it would feel.

I brush my palms against my cheeks, trying to rid any last evidence of tears, and then I shift my focus to the hazy, smoke-filled sky and the small ripples forming over the surface of our quiet lake as I wait to face him.

“You ready to …” Jonah’s words drift when he meets my eyes.

I guess wiping away tears wasn’t enough to hide the fact that I’ve been crying.

“What’s going on? Did something happen?” he asks, his voice panicked.

Despite the ache, I almost laugh. He literally has no clue. “Yeah. You told me I was more important to you than work.”

A frown slowly forms as realization sets in. “I was only gone a few hours.”

“That’s not the point!” My voice cracks. Words I hadn’t planned on saying out loud fly from my mouth. “I haven’t complained once about you never being home since you took this job with Sam, have I? But the one day, the one day you promised you’d be here, that you’d put me first, that I would be more important than you flying off somewhere, and you couldn’t do that.”

A bewildered look flashes across his face. “Calla, you are more important to me than work. Or anything,” he says slowly. “Where is this coming from?”

“Seriously? I’ve basically been alone here for the past two months, with a goat and a raccoon for company. I have no job besides being your secretary and your maid and your cook, and I have one friend. It feels like you’re never home anymore. I hate it here!”

His eyebrows arch. “You hate it here?”

“Yes! No!” I shake my head, the tears rolling again. “I don’t know!” It’s the first time that thought has taken shape in my mind. It’s my emotions talking. Or not? Maybe it’s true. Maybe this is as good as it’s going to get for me in Alaska. “I want you to be happy, Jonah. But I’m not happy. I don’t belong here.”

“Jesus.” He curses under his breath.

A horn tuts several times in rapid succession, cutting into my tirade.

“Oh my God, I don’t need this right now.” I bury my face in my palms. “Can you please deal with whoever that is? I can’t talk to anyone.” It must be the courier. I hope it’s not Muriel, though she always comes on her ATV and that was the sound of a car door slamming.

“Yeah … That’s gonna be a problem.” Jonah sighs heavily. “For the record, I wasn’t at work today.” He shifts, unblocking the view of the stone path that leads to our porch from the driveway.

And the tall, leggy blonde who’s picking along it in a pair of heeled sandals and a brown suede satchel purse swinging at her hip.

“Diana?”

“Surprise!” she squeals, throwing her hands in the air.

“I …” A rush of elation hits me, clashing with the sorrow that had previously taken root and bringing an instant flood of tears. I pull myself out of my wicker chair. “You came?” I manage to choke out, my knees wobbling as I close the distance to the porch door.

She charges in and collides with me in a fierce embrace. “Do you know how hard it was for me to keep this from you? I almost blew it when we were talking on the phone!”

I inhale the familiar floral scent of her perfume. She’s been wearing it since we graduated from high school. As far as I’m concerned, they should just change the brand name to Diana. “I had no idea.”

“Well, you weren’t supposed to, obviously. God, this is …” Her big, cornflower-blue eyes are wide and glistening as they drift over the view of the lake and the mountain range beyond. “Indescribable. I get it now.”

I look to Jonah who’s leaning back against the porch post, arms folded over his chest, a small smile touching his lips. “Did you do this?”

He shakes his head. “It was your mom’s idea. They bought the ticket.”

“Simon even upgraded me to first class, which was definitely a selling point for this crazy idea.” Diana waggles her eyebrows.

“They said my gift was coming by courier and I couldn’t leave it on the porch. I thought they meant cake.” I laugh, wiping my palms across my cheeks. “When did you get in?”

“My plane landed at 5:10 a.m.” She emphasizes the a.m. part with arched eyebrows. “I left right after work last night and I’ve been flying all night to be here.” She laughs, and catches a tear from the corner of her eye with her pinky, careful not to smear her eye makeup. “Calla, I’m running on pure adrenaline. I’m apologizing now if I pass out later.”

“Oh my God, of course! How long are you here for?”

“Four days. I’m catching the red-eye home on Tuesday night. I already told Beef Stick that I’m going to be useless when I show up there Wednesday.”

“I’m so glad you’re here. Okay. So … four days. I don’t even know what we’re going to do.” I look to Jonah. “How long have you known about this?”

“Since she called to bail on you.”

That was the beginning of May! I shake my head. “So, there was never any weekend away?”

He shrugs. “Had to make up something to distract you.”

“But he promised to take us out today, so let’s go before I hit my wall and fall into a coma.” Diana takes in my rumpled pajamas that I threw back on after my shower. I’m not even wearing a bra. “You’re not dressed. Why aren’t you even dressed yet? Is this who you are now?”

“Uh …” Because I was too busy wallowing in self-pity?

“Of course, I would have been here hours ago if not for that debacle in Anchorage.”

“What debacle?” I look from her to Jonah and back to her.