13. Willow
13
WILLOW
I lie in a hospital bed, my leg throbbing beneath the heavy plaster cast. The pain medication takes the edge off, but it can't touch the ache in my heart. I stare at the ceiling, replaying the moment Reid turned away from me over and over in my mind.
The warmth of his embrace, the tenderness of his touch in the snow shelter—it all feels like a cruel joke now. The way he kept his distance, his voice turning cold and formal as soon as help arrived—it's like a knife twisting in my gut.
I try to rationalize it. Maybe he was just being professional, focused on the rescue. But the abrupt shift, the way he couldn't even look at me... it felt personal. Like regret. Rejection. I guess it's just another one to add to the long list.
A humorless laugh escapes me, sending a jolt of pain through my leg. Of course. Of course, I would fall for my rescuer, only to be discarded as soon as the danger passed. It's like some cosmic joke, the universe mocking me and never giving me a fucking break.
I close my eyes, trying to shut out the memory of his face, his touch. It's useless. He's seared into my mind, an imprint I can't shake.
The door to my hospital room opens, and my parents walk in. Dad's face is etched with worry, Mom's with relief. It's the first time I've seen them since the helicopter landed, and I have no idea what I'm getting myself into.
I wipe my eyes and brace myself, expecting the usual lecture about safety and responsibility. But instead, Dad rushes to my bedside and gathers me in a tight hug.
"I'm so sorry, Willow," he murmurs into my hair. "So sorry. I can't even tell you what I went through when your mom told me you were missing..."
His voice breaks, and I feel my own throat tighten. "It's okay, Dad. I'm sorry, too. I shouldn't have gone off on my own like that."
"I was so scared, Willow," Mom says, her voice trembling as she takes my hand. "When you didn't call, when we couldn't reach you... I thought..." She trails off, unable to finish the thought.
I squeeze her hand, feeling a pang of guilt. "I know, Mom. I'm sorry I put you through that. I just... I needed some space. To clear my head. But I should have been more careful."
Dad nods, his jaw tight. "We understand needing space, Willow. But you can't just go off-piste like that. Not after everything..."
"I know, Dad. I know. I wasn't thinking straight. I just... I wanted to feel like myself again. Like I could still do something right."
Mom brushes a strand of hair from my face, her touch gentle. "Oh, honey. You have nothing to prove. Not to us, not to anyone."
I feel tears prick at my eyes, and I blink them back. "But I failed, Mom. I failed at the one thing I was supposed to be good at. And now... now I don't know who I am anymore."
Dad leans in, his eyes intense. "You are Willow Jones. You are our daughter. And you are so much more than your skiing career."
"But what if that's all I was ever meant to be? What if I've already peaked, and it's all downhill from here?" The words spill out, voicing the fear that's been eating at me for months.
Mom shakes her head, a fierce look in her eyes. "Willow, listen to me. You are 24 years old. Your life is just beginning. One setback, no matter how big it feels, does not define you. You have so much ahead of you."
"Your mom's right, Willow. This is a new chapter. A chance to discover who you are outside of skiing. I'm sorry if I didn't make it clear before, but we'll be here for you every step of the way."
I feel the tears welling up again as Dad's words sink in. A new chapter. A chance to discover who I am outside of skiing. It's a terrifying thought but also strangely exhilarating. Like standing at the top of a new run, not knowing what lies ahead but eager to find out.
Mom's hand on my arm brings me back to the present. "So, who was that sexy rescuer who couldn't keep his eyes off you?" she asks, a mischievous twinkle in her eye.
"Mom!" I admonish, feeling my cheeks heat up. "It's not what you think."
But even as I say it, I feel the tears threatening to spill over again. Mom's face falls. "Willow, honey, what's wrong?"
I take a shaky breath, trying to find the words. "It's just... I like him, Mom. And I thought... I thought maybe he felt the same way. But then, when the helicopter arrived, he just... he was so cold. Like none of what we'd just gone through together meant anything."
Mom's hand tightens on mine, her eyes soft with understanding. "Oh, sweetie. I'm sure it wasn't like that. He was probably trying to be professional in front of the others. It's a high-pressure situation, a rescue like that."
I nod, sniffling a little. "I guess. But it just... it hurt, you know? After everything we went through, after how close we got... to just be shut out like that."
Mom pulls me into a hug, careful of my leg. "I know, honey. But don't give up hope just yet. If what you had was real, it'll find a way."
Her words ignite a spark of determination in me. She's right. I'm not going to let this go without a fight. "Mom, can you help me with something?"
"Of course, sweetie. Anything."
I take a deep breath, steeling myself. "Can you help me contact Mountain Angels? I need to talk to Reid. I need to know if what we had was real."
Before my mum can even make a phone call, there's a knock at the door. To my surprise, the man introduces himself as Viggo, the head of the Mountain Angels rescue team. He's just delivered another accident victim to the hospital and heard I was here.
"Willow Jones," he says, shaking his head with a smile. "You gave us quite a scare out there."
I laugh, wincing a little as the movement jostles my leg. "Trust me, it wasn't exactly part of my plan either."
Viggo's face turns serious. "You're lucky Reid found you when he did. He's one of our best. Stubborn as a mule, but he never gives up on a rescue."
I feel a flutter at the mention of Reid's name. "Yeah, he was... he was amazing out there. I don't know what I would have done without him."
Viggo nods, a knowing look in his eye. "He's been through a lot, that one. The military, the transition back to civilian life... it's not been easy for him. But I've never seen him as focused as he was on finding you."
My heart skips a beat. "Really?"
"Oh yeah. The man was like a dog with a bone. Wouldn't rest until he knew you were safe. And then, when he got back to base after dropping you off... I've never seen him so torn up. Like he didn't know whether to punch something or cry."
I feel a lump form in my throat. So it wasn't just me. He did feel something. "I... I thought maybe... he was so distant..."
Viggo sighs, running a hand over his beard. "Hart's a complicated man. He's got a lot of walls up. But I think you might have gotten under his skin in a way he wasn't expecting."
Before I can respond, there's a movement at the door. My breath catches in my throat. It's Reid.
He's standing there, looking unsure, his eyes flickering between me and Viggo. Viggo clears his throat. "Well, I better be going. Got paperwork to do. You take care now, Willow."
He gives Reid a pointed look as he leaves, closing the door behind him. My parents follow him out, and then it’s just us—Reid and me. My heart is pounding so hard I'm sure he can hear it.
"Hi," I say softly, not quite sure where to begin.
Reid takes a step forward, then stops. "Willow, I... I'm sorry for how I acted when the rescue team arrived."
I swallow hard, trying to keep my voice steady. "It's okay. I understand. You were just doing your job."
He shakes his head, the frustration evident on his face. "No, it's not okay. I was a jerk. I just... I got scared. Of how I was feeling. Of what it meant."
I feel a flutter of hope in my chest. "And how were you feeling?"
He takes a deep breath, his eyes locking with mine. "Like I was falling for you. Hard and fast and completely out of control. And it terrified me."
My heart is in my throat. "Reid..."
"I'm not good at this, Willow. Relationships, emotions... it's never been my strong suit. But with you... it's different. And that scares the hell out of me."
I reach out my hand, and he takes it, his fingers warm and rough against mine. "It scares me too. But I don't want to run from it. I want to see where it goes."
He nods, a small smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. "Me too. If you'll give me another chance."
I squeeze his hand, feeling like my heart might burst. "I think I can do that."
He smiles, a real smile this time, and my heart skips a beat. "I'd like that. A chance to start over, to do things right."
We talk for a while longer, the conversation flowing easily now that the tension has dissipated. I tell him about my plans for physical therapy and my determination to get back on my feet. He offers to help, his eyes earnest.
"I've got some experience with rehab from my army days. If you let me, I'd like to be there for you. To help you through this."
I feel a warmth spreading through my chest. "I'd like that. And maybe, once I'm mobile again, we could explore Hope Peak together? I feel like I've barely scratched the surface of this place."
His eyes light up. "I'd love to show you around. There's so much more to this town than just the slopes. The hiking trails, the lakes... it's beautiful out there."
We make tentative plans, a promise of a future that suddenly doesn't seem so bleak. I feel a flicker of real hope for the first time in months.
All too soon, Reid glances at his watch, his brow furrowing. "I should probably get back to base. Viggo will be wondering where I am."
I nod, trying to hide my disappointment. "Of course. Duty calls."
He stands but hesitates, his hand still in mine. "I'll come back. As soon as I can. I promise."
I squeeze his hand, a silent acknowledgment. "I'll be here. Not like I could move if I wanted to," I chuckle.
He leans down, pressing a soft kiss to my forehead. It's a gesture so tender, so intimate, that it takes my breath away.
And then he's gone, the door clicking shut behind him. But this time, there's no ache in my chest, no sense of abandonment.
Instead, there's a warmth, a glow of anticipation. A promise of things to come.
I settle back against my pillows, my mind already racing ahead. To the future, to the possibilities.
To a life in Hope Peak and all that it might bring.