What Love Makes Us Do

Claire, blond hair and slim, reads the sign.

CAMPGROUND RIGHT.

DANGER PATH LEFT. FOR EXPERIENCED CLIMBERS.

Jack, brown hair and brawny, heads left.

“Um, Jack?” Claire asks.  

“Me and Caleb go this way all the time.”

“Caleb hikes. This path is for climbers, and we don’t have the equipment.”

Jack spins, blue eyes cold. “Oh, because you know my brother so much better than I do? Go figure.”

“We’re not doing this.”

“The tent’s in my bag. You can sleep on the ground if you want.”

Jack pushes upward. Claire looks around, frowns, then follows.

They make it to a small clearing and set up the tent, then Jack leads Claire to a ledge, holding his arms out as the night sky twinkles with brilliance behind him.

“Told you. Picture time!”

Claire moves into Jack’s embrace, eyes widening at what’s on his phone screen. Jack’s arm tightens around her waist.

“Jack, please!”

He moves them closer to the edge.

Claire digs her heels into the ground.  

“You’ve been lying to me for years! He told me everything!” Jack yells.

“I’m so sorry. We can fix this. We can go to therapy. Baby, please!”

Jack pushes Claire.

She falls backward.

He grabs the scruff of her shirt.

“How’s all that emptiness behind you feel?” he asks.

“I’m sor—”

Jack releases Claire, watching her body plummet into the shadows of the night, his tears like crystals in the moonlight. He digs a knife from his pocket, flipping it open. On the wooden hilt are Jack and Clarie’s initials with a heart in between their letters. He pushes the blade down and clenches his fist around it.

He takes one last look out into the blackness, then throws the knife, turning away and dialing 911.

“Hello, my name is Jack Branson. I need help, my wife just fell down a cliffside….”