Saint:
Dust still hung in the air, stirred up by the tires, glowing orange in the dying light. I sat for a minute, hands still gripping the handlebars, watching as the last sliver of sun dipped below the canyons.
We were in the middle of nowhere.
Exactly where I wanted us to be.
The cabin was small—one of those one-bedroom, open-concept places with high ceilings and big windows that framed the wild like a painting. Desert stretched in every direction, cracked earth and towering red rock, not a soul around for miles.
Just me and my wife.
My wife.
I let the word settle in my chest like it belonged there.
Shay slid off the back of the bike and looked up at the place with a little smile, the kind that said she didn’t need marble floors or five-star hotels—just space, and me, and the sk
