Asher
Epilogue – 5 years later
O utside the window, snow falls and the wind batters a branch against the roof of the cabin, the scratching and thwack of it barely audible over the melodic sounds of Michael Bublé. A fire burns brightly in the stone fireplace, filling the room with the rich aroma of burning wood, and enough heat to keep us comfortable.
A gentle nudge at my leg has my focus shifting from the winter wonderland outside to the small, black, cream and brown speckled creature at my feet. Storm, our miniature merle dachshund, butts her nose into me again and I bend down and scoop her up.
“Look at all that snow, little girl. It’s so deep, we’d lose you in it if we went outside.” An image of a similar dog that I’d chased through the snow some five years ago flit through my mind and I smile at the warm memories. I hug Storm a little closer to me and she licks my face. I grimace, pop her down and then wipe the sleeve of my jumper across my cheek. Dalton may like her overzealous affection and kisses, but I prefer to stick to hugs and pets.
Speaking of my boyfriend, he was being awfully quiet which raised my suspicions. Turning my back to the window, I scanned the familiar cabin. Not much had changed in here besides a new sofa and rug in the main living space. Every Christmas after our days trapped in this little wooden structure, Dalton has begged the resort to let us rent the cabin but we’ve been met with the same response every time - something about health and safety and this being a summer cabin, only accessible in the summer months.
That all changed this year thankfully, when the resort was put under new ownership and the newly employed manager succumbed to the sweet, romantic tale of the love we found here. She’d agreed to let us stay, following a boat load of paperwork and on condition that we didn’t venture too far from the cabin if we went outside. She emphasised that they did not want to send out a rescue party for us again.
Banging further inside the cabin has Storm and I following the sound to the kitchen. I can’t hold back the chuckle when I enter and find Dalton lighting a camping stove and holding a jar of sausages in brine.
I scrunch up my nose as he flicks the lighter. “Babe, why are you cooking those? I’m sure we packed some good steaks.” I ask, taking a step further into the kitchen.
“I’m recreating memories,” he huffs as he struggles to get the gas to light. It’s not the same camping stove as before, this one looks newer and by the looks of all the bags on the floor around him, I’d guess it’s something he brought with him from home.
Because we’d wanted to bring Storm with us, we opted to drive to Austria from the UK. Thankfully, the wind hadn't been strong and the visibility was good getting down here. With the addition of snow chains on our tyres, we made it through the partially covered roads without incident. In the few hours since we've arrived, the wind has picked up and the storm has rolled quickly over the hills, bringing with it heavy snowfall.
After arriving, we rounded up firewood, started the fire and then spent a few moments reconnecting on the sofa before finally unpacking the car. Dalton had done all the shopping for the trip - at his insistence - and it's only now that I catch a glimpse of the few items he's already placed on the counter that I understand why he was so adamant.
Peering into one of the Christmas-themed shopping bags, a huge smile takes over my face. Inside, he’s packed an array of foodstuffs we’d shared that Christmas five years ago. From tins of tuna, to soup, olives and a bag of popcorn. There's even reams of white paper and a fully blown up volleyball. My chest warms at the thoughtfulness and I straighten up then wrap my arms around his waist, resting my head on his back.
“Thank you, my love. This is all really sweet.” I kiss his back and he grabs my hands and gives them a squeeze, before turning around and pulling me into his arms.
“I just wanted it to be as magical the second time around.” His bright eyes sparkle and there is that smile that I have been in love with for years.
“Every day with you is magical. Every birthday, every Christmas, every plain old workday. Because I get to spend them with you. ”
Dalton tips my chin up and presses his lips to mine. They are soft and warm and when he slips his tongue into my mouth, moving it around mine, I taste chocolate and nutmeg from the hot chocolate he’d been drinking earlier. I moan into the kiss and deepen it, loving the press of his strong body against me.
In the distance, thunder tears through the sky and the wind howling outside grows louder, drowning out the Christmas music. The lights flicker off then back on again and we break apart with a chuckle before they flicker off again, leaving us in the dying light of the winter day.
“Let’s get the mattress,” Dalton suggests and I nod, following him to the small bedroom that we hadn’t used before and have no plans to use this time around either. Unlike the days we’d spent here previously, we have everything we need for a romantic secluded week away. From more gas canisters to heaps of food, warm coats, board games, books, soap and a full tube of toothpaste as well as the ultimate ‘trapped in a cabin’ necessities - lube and toothbrushes.
We abandon the sausages and any thoughts of food for now and instead, pull the mattress through to the lounge and place it in front of the fireplace.
“Snuggle with me for a bit and then I’ll heat up some soup?” I say, already pulling my thick cardigan over my head. Dalton nods, biting his lower lip and stepping out of his jeans. His eyes lock onto mine as we both burrow beneath the blankets. His rough, warm hands reach for me and he hauls me against him until our foreheads meet and our hearts beat side by side.
Then he closes his eyes and lets out a deep contented sigh like he’s blowing away the stresses of our daily lives.
We both work really hard and have little time to sit and do nothing. Dalton finally settled on his major and graduated with a degree in Sport and Exercise studies. He now works in a local gym and on the weekends has a handful of clients he trains personally. He also volunteers at an adventure sports camp for kids in the holidays and spends his days there wall climbing, kayaking, and orienteering. I’m still following in my father’s footsteps, working as an arborist in the botanical gardens a few miles from our home. One day, maybe I’ll be a professor like him too.
We are busy but most importantly, we are happy.
“Dalt?”
His eyes open, and he scans my face as I trace the lines of his brow and down his nose with one finger.
“Yeah?” He says, playfully nibbling at my finger when I reach the seam of his mouth .
“Truth or dare?”
His lips lift and my finger follows the movement.
“Dare,” he says, then places his hand on my leg and drags it over his thigh, closing the little gap between us.
My hand drops and I run it through his messy locks, until it's resting on the back of his neck. Then, I bring my lips to his, close enough to feel the heat of his breath.
“I dare you to kiss me.”
THE END