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“To see different cultures, new places, meet people,” she replied, her voice light but genuine.

I glanced at her sideways, my expression doing the talking.

“Fair,” she said, chuckling. “I mean, I don’t love people either, but I’ve at least been places.”

“Never had the urge,” I said with a shrug. Traveling wasn’t something I ever thought much about. My life revolved around work—there was always something to do, something to fix. The idea of taking a vacation didn’t even register. Besides, who would I go with? What’s more pathetic than a nearly middle-aged man traveling alone?

“What about the East Coast?” she asked softly, her tone careful, like she wasn’t sure she wanted the answer.

“Nope,” I replied confidently, adjusting my grip on the steering wheel.

“Would you ever want to? Maybe even…come see New York City sometime?”

Her words lingered in the air, heavy with unspoken meaning. My gaze snapped to her, catching her already looking at me. Her expression was cautious but open, and for a second, I wondered—was she inviting me to see the city, or to see her?

If it was just to see the city, the answer was a hard no because to me, that wasn’t worth my time. But to see her? That… That could be a possibility.

“If I ever did,” I said slowly, “I’d still drive.”

She laughed, her head tilting back slightly, the sound warm and full of disbelief. It wasn’t a mocking laugh—it was the kind she gave when she thought something was utterly ridiculous.

“You realize that’s like a thirty-four-hour drive without stopping, right?” she said, her eyes sparkling with amusement.

I shrugged again, fighting a grin. “Nothing I couldn’t handle.”

“Oooh!” Eleanor shouted, sitting up straight and pointing out the windshield.

My heart jumped, adrenaline spiking as if I’d need to swerve, brake, or brace for impact. But as my eyes followed the direction of her finger, I let out a sharp exhale.

She was pointing at a massive “Welcome to Utah” sign, showing a brilliant blue sky and the fiery orange mountains that seemed to go on forever.

“Jesus, Eleanor, you nearly gave me a damn heart attack.”

“Pull over!” she demanded, her tone leaving no room for debate.

“What? Why? We have to—”

“Now!”

Rolling my eyes but unable to say no, I flipped on the blinker and eased the truck to a stop in front of the sign. Eleanor shoved her feet into her slippers and threw open the door, practically bouncing out like an excited kid.

When she glanced back, she waved her hand frantically, motioning for me to follow.

With a frustrated groan, I left the truck idling and climbed out, trudging after her. “What are you doing?”

“Take my picture with the sign!” she called back, already standing perfectly centered beneath it.

A handful of other travelers were milling around, taking in the view or snapping photos of their own. Eleanor didn’t care.

Without argument, I pulled my phone out of my pocket and moved closer. We had to get moving. There was no time to fight it.

She struck a pose, crossing one leg over the other with a soft smile. Next, she pointed dramatically up at the sign, her face lit with exaggerated excitement.

She went through a series of other poses, and I couldn’t help but chuckle to myself at her enthusiasm. Then, I felt a light tap on my shoulder.

I turned to find an older woman standing there, her eyes kind and her smile warm.

“Would you like a picture with your girlfriend?” she asked.