He didn’t need to, not with her face plastered on every television station he turned to. More than a few regional papers had reached out for interviews, but Easton had nothing to say to any of them. There was nothing to say. It was done. She was gone.

End of story.

Tasha sat next to him, her pen and notepad in her purse. Once, he’d enjoyed her presence. Now, it reminded him that the one he wanted, the right one, wasn’t there.

“Do you want to talk about it?” Tasha asked quietly, taking a sip of her coffee. “Off the record?”

He snorted. “What’s the angle?”

“We’re still friends, Easton,” she reminded him. “I’m capable of caring and listening without a recorder in my hands.”

Sighing, he leaned forward, elbows on his knees. “There’s nothing to talk about.”

She waited, and when Easton didn’t continue, Tasha nodded. “You know, I thought I loved you once. I even thought you might have loved me. But then I saw you and River together after we talked last time, and I knew what we had wasn’t even close. It was nothing compared to the way you looked at her. And I’m okay with that. I’m just worried about you.” Taking his hand, Tasha squeezed it. “You look like someone hit you with a truck.”

He felt it too.

“It doesn’t matter,” Easton finally said. “River left because her life isn’t here. She was only here to film a documentary that I screwed up for her. It was my job to keep her safe, to get her to the summit and back down again. Instead, they lost half their footage, and all three of them ended up in the hospital. She never did complete the climb down. I’m not real sure how to make that up to her.”

Tasha nodded. “Easton…you don’t run a diner for a living—”

“Thank goodness. Thirty minutes of that was more than enough for me.”

She smiled. “You don’t run a diner. You don’t write articles for a paper. You climb mountains. The tallest, most dangerous mountains. And just because your record is so good doesn’t mean that there won’t be climbs that go wrong.”

When he started to interject, Tasha squeezed his hand again. “The difference is, you’re in love with your client. As someone whose been lucky enough to get close to you, I know how deeply you care about the people you love. It was never me, but it is River. If you’re trying to find some way to process losing her, beating yourself up over a tough climb isn’t it. You did your job. The rest of it…got messy.”