Late Repentance Chapter 1

Ronan spent six years photographing wildlife, and I stayed by his side as he rose from an unknown amateur to a signed professional.

During his hardest year, I drained my savings for him—camera lenses, off-road rentals, shooting permits. Last year, when he was nominated for an international award, I asked if I could join him in the Yukon to see the timber wolves he always talked about. He didn’t look up, just kept wiping his lens. “Conditions are too brutal. You aren’t cut out for it.” I said okay and never asked again.

This May, a major outdoor magazine released a Wilderness Photographers Special Edition. Ronan was on the cover, locked in a standoff with a lone wolf, rugged and impossibly handsome. The credit listed two names: Ronan and Lily.

Inside, a candid showed them clinking tin mugs by a bonfire. He was smiling, relaxed, his arm draped over her shoulder. The caption read: Best partner. Forty days in the tundra. Couldn’t have done it without you.

I set the magazine down, brewed my coffee, and drank in silence. Then I booked a one-way ticket to Banff National Park. For six years, I had stayed in the city managing his life so he could chase his dreams. If there was no room for me in his wilderness, I would go see the snow-capped mountains alone.

...

"Megan, Lily is taking the guest room tonight."

The front door pushed open.

Ronan strode into the entryway, dropping three massive waterproof gear duffels onto the floor.

It was his first day back from the Yukon expedition.

I was sitting on the couch, holding a mug of coffee that had gone completely cold.

I looked past him.

Lily peeked out from behind his broad shoulders. She was wearing an oversized men's Arc'teryx hardshell jacket.

"Hey Megan, sorry to crash here!"

She giggled, casually slipping her feet into a pair of fluffy pink house slippers by the shoe rack.

Those were my slippers.

Ronan kicked his boots off.

"A pipe burst in her apartment building. The landlord hasn't fixed it yet, so she is going to stay with us for a few days."

"The guest room is my art studio," I said.

It was packed with my drawing tablets, canvases, and the commissioned drafts I was working on.

"I won't take up much space, I promise."

Lily walked right past me, reaching for the water pitcher on the coffee table.

"And I totally swear I won't touch any of your precious little paintbrushes."

She poured a glass of water and gulped down half of it.

"God, Ronan, I am dying of thirst."

She didn't call him Mr. Ronan or boss. Just Ronan.

Ronan shrugged off his jacket. Without a second thought, he took the glass from her hand and drained the rest of her water.

The movement was painfully natural. Like they had done it a thousand times.

"Just tidy up the studio a bit and clear enough space for a bed," he said, turning to me.

His tone was a corporate memo. An order, not a discussion.

"There is no bed in there."

I stared at the glass they had just shared.

"There is only a pull out sofa, and my wet oil paintings are currently drying on it."

Ronan frowned.

"Then move the paintings to the living room. Lily just survived forty days in the freezing tundra. Her back is killing her. I am not making her sleep on a lumpy sofa."

Her back was killing her.

Six years ago, when he shot his first starry night time lapse, he was too broke to afford a thermal tent.

I stood in the snow in ten degree weather, keeping him company for three nights straight.

The extreme hypothermia wrecked my immune system and left me with severe chronic pelvic cramps. Every month, I was in so much pain I couldn't even stand up straight.

He forgot.

I stood up and walked toward the studio.

"Fine. I will clear it out."

"You are the best, Megan!" Lily called out behind me.

I carried the oil paintings out one by one, leaning them against the corner of the living room.

I pulled out the folding mattress.

I laid down fresh, clean sheets.

When I walked back out, Ronan was sitting on the living room rug, unzipping his gear bags and pulling out dry sacks.

Lily was sitting cross legged right beside him.

"Ronan, hand me the red bag."

She pointed at a corner of the duffel.

Ronan pulled out a red waterproof sack and tossed it to her.

Lily opened it and dumped a pile of souvenirs onto the rug.

There was a wolf tooth pendant, a few raw quartz stones, and a braided leather bracelet with a piece of turquoise.

"Help me put this turquoise one on."

She held out her wrist, leaning in close to him.

Ronan set his camera down. He picked up the bracelet and carefully fastened the clasp around her wrist.

"Perfect fit," he chuckled.

"Duh. You handpicked it for me."

I stood two steps away, watching them.

Ronan looked up and finally noticed me.

His expression froze for a fraction of a second before snapping back to normal.

"Megan, come look at this."

He pointed at the floor. "The locals at the trading post gave these to us. Lily picked out a few, see if you like anything that is left."

Anything that is left.

I walked over and looked down.

A few dull, gray rocks and a cheaply made wooden beaded necklace.

"Where is the hand braided alpine wool bracelet you promised me?"

I asked calmly.

Before he left for the Yukon, he told me about a local Indigenous artisan who wove bracelets from naturally shed wildlife wool. It was supposed to symbolize peace and protection.

I told him I wanted one.

He had promised me he would get it.

Ronan froze.

His hand dug around in the dry sack. His movements grew slower and slower.

"About that..."

"Oh my gosh, Megan, I am so sorry."

Lily suddenly cut in, raising her right hand.

Right next to the turquoise, wrapped around her wrist, was a beautifully crafted, authentic alpine wool bracelet.

"We only found one at the trading post."

Her voice was thick with innocent guilt, laced with a sickly sweet whine.

"Ronan said I worked so hard carrying the heavy tripods in the tundra, so he gave it to me as a reward."

She stroked the woven threads.

"You aren't mad at me, are you?"

I didn't look at her. I kept my eyes locked on Ronan.

"You gave it to her?"

"It is just a piece of string."

Ronan avoided my gaze, picking his lens cloth back up.

"They sell that stuff everywhere up there. We were on a tight shooting schedule, I didn't have time to shop around."

"Next time. I will buy you a dozen of them next time."

Next time.

For six years, those were his favorite two words.

When he couldn't afford a diamond ring, he said he would make it up to me next time.

When he missed my birthday because he was on a shoot, he promised to double the celebration next time.

And now, even a simple, promised bracelet was pushed to next time.

"Megan, if you really love it that much, I can take it off and give it to you."

Lily made a big show of tugging at the clasp.

She fumbled with it for a few seconds.

"Ugh, the knot is tied way too tight."

"Forget it. Leave it on."

Ronan grabbed her hand, stopping her.

He looked up at me.

"Megan, are you seriously going to make a scene over this? Lily bruised her legs up hiking through the brush to find my camera angles. Is it a crime to give her a souvenir?"

His tone was dripping with impatience.

He thought I was being irrational. He thought I was petty and jealous.

I looked at his hand, still resting protectively over Lily's fingers.

Long, elegant fingers. Prominent knuckles.

Those were the hands I had babied and cared for over six years of my youth. I took extra commissions and stayed up until dawn just so those hands could hold expensive cameras.

Now, those hands were protecting another woman.

"No. It isn't a crime."

I said softly.

I turned around and walked toward the kitchen.

"There are frozen dumplings in the fridge. You can boil them yourself."

"I am not hungry."

Ronan called out behind me.

I didn't look back.

I unlocked my phone and opened my Expedia app.

My flight to Banff National Park was already paid in full.

Departure date. Three days from now.