She stepped out of the house into the predawn light, bare feet moving silently, the straps of her heels dangling from her fingers. She made every effort to leave the house without a sound, not wanting to wake the occupant who dwelled within. Her long raven curls, styled so elegantly the night before, hung in a wild mass down her back. Her makeup was smudged and her cheeks were pale. She had the look of a woman in desperate need of sleep. She turned to pull the door closed behind her and gave a gasp of surprise when she heard a voice coming from the driveway.
"I don't believe this." She turned with a hand to her chest, her heart thudding wildly, releasing her quick intake of breath when she recognized the voice.
"Michael," relief gave way to confusion at seeing him there. "What are you doing here?"
She heard the anger in his voice when he replied, only adding to her confusion. "I could ask the same question of you. Look at you. Sneaking out of some man's house at dawn like a cheap slut. You know, when Chloe told me I would find you here, I laughed at her; told her she was crazy; that you would never betray me like that. And here I find you. God I am such a fool."
Confusion gave way to shock, followed by anger. Her words of denial died unspoken on her lips. That he could think she was capable of anything like what he was insinuating cut into her deeply and she refused to defend herself to him. Her words dripped ice as she spoke, "Yes. You are a fool. And one day you will realize how much of one." With that single sentence, she turned and walked down the driveway to her car, flinching as a rain of curses fell on her. Only when she was in the car and driving away did she allow the tears to course down her cheeks.
She drove home blindly, slamming the door behind her. She collapsed on the floor just inside the door, sobbing brokenly. After an interval that seemed like hours, she dragged herself up and made her way to the shower, shedding her clothes in a trail behind her. She turned the shower as hot as she could stand it and just stood under the water, her desperate sobs now quieted, tears continuing to fall silently down her cheeks. Her thoughts raced. She needed to get out of here, to get away and figure all of this madness out. At once her mind settled on the canyon. It was where she always went when she needed to find some peace. With resolve, she turned off the shower, dried off and got dressed. Hastily she packed her climbing gear, a bedroll, and enough supplies for a few days. She threw everything into the back of her truck and set off.
The miles were eaten up quickly. The time passed almost without her notice until she found herself pulling onto a barely noticeable dirt road. Ten miles later she was deep in the canyon. She parked and unloaded the truck. Her camping gear was stowed in a spare pack that she would haul up with a guide rope when she reached the top. She got into her harness and got her climbing equipment set then started the climb. It was nearly 200 feet up the nearly sheer rock face. She would need all her concentration to make it, which was exactly what she needed, to focus on something other than the pain settling into her chest.
With a determined set to her mouth, she began her climb, her fingers and toes seeking out the almost unnoticeable grips to pull herself up. As she lost herself in the physical demands of the climb, she was completely unaware of the silent tears that streaked unceasingly down her cheeks, mingling with the dirt and the dust from the climb. At last she felt her fingers scrabbling for purchase at the top of the canyon wall. She dug her feet in and pushed, collapsing in exhaustion when at last she lay on the rock at the top of the cliff. For several long minutes she lay there unmoving, panting heavily, her skin gleaming with the exertion of the climb.
She rolled and lifted to a sitting position, fingers seeking the canteen at her waist, lifting it to her lips and taking a long drink of the icy cold liquid before dumping the rest over her head. She gasped as the water ran rivers down her back and chest. She stood and looked over the edge of the canyon. She saw her pack sitting far below her and with a groan, began to pull it up to her location. After the climb she was nearly exhausted but she managed to get the heavy gear up. She made camp quickly, next to a large boulder that sat in the clearing. From experience she knew there was a runoff stream about a mile away and all she wanted at the moment was to soak herself in the refreshing waters.
After everything was set up and her food stores were stowed away, she grabbed a towel and a bar of soap and headed for the stream. She returned some time later, her skin pink and glowing from the frigid water. She dropped naked onto her bedroll and closed her eyes. She knew she should eat something and gather some firewood but she was so worn out from the climb and the events of the morning. She would just take a bit of a nap before performing the rest of her chores. She didn't bother to clothe herself. In all of her years of coming here, she had never seen another living soul up here and the sun felt so warm on her skin. With effort, she banished thoughts of Michael, needing the rest and solace that sleep offered. In no time she fell into a deep dreamless sleep, the physical exhaustion offering her peace from her troubled thoughts.
She woke suddenly to a hand cupping her breast and a voice whispering softly in her ear, "I thought I would find you here." As panic gave way to recognition of both the touch and the voice, she sat up abruptly, belatedly realizing she was still naked. Trying to cover herself, she scooted away from him, his name a whisper on her lips, "Michael."
He reached for her and she recoiled from him, the events of the morning flooding back into her consciousness. Pain and anger filled her eyes, turning them from the deep green that she was named for to a bright gleaming emerald. Contempt dripped from her voice as she spoke again, "You had no right to come here. You gave up that right this morning."
