Chapter 68
CHAPTER SIXTY-EIGHT
Her face almost knocks me to the ground, but this will be worth it. She’ll see. This is for you, Soph. Anything for you.
I spin on my heel, but the sounds of cooing and laughter follow, slicing through the air like a taunt as I clomp down the stairs, as fast as ski boots allow. Which is to say, torturously slow. The worst getaway method in the world.
Finally.
I collapse into the snow and lean back against the cold brick wall. The moment I’m out of sight, the sobs break free.
Is this his revenge? He knows I’m still desperate to have him back?
It had to be intentional—the perfect way to push me away for good.
He knew how much it crushed me when he dated all those other girls.
I told him. I was so vulnerable. And now he’s using it to sever the last thread between us. Fine, Austin. I get it. It’s over.
Jesus, why? I’m trying. I’m trying to stay close to you, obey you, leave it to you. Why this? I could have been sitting anywhere else.
This is my answer. The line in the sand. The don’t-miss-it message.
Loud and clear. Just … Help me move on. Help me stop wanting what I can’t have. Help.
When I run out of tears, I wipe my face, pick myself up, and wander to the restrooms. The line stretches around the hall, so I text Kit and Mia.
Crazy bathroom line. Be back after.
We fly back to Texas tomorrow afternoon. I’ll recover from this, from him. I’ll cut ties. I’ll swear Kit to secrecy so he won’t even hear about me third-hand. And I will be okay.
With you, I’ll be okay.
Mia
I have your stuff. We’ll leave at 4.
Not sure how the guys are going to be ready in an hour since Austin is standing around flirting his heart out, but whatever.
The bathroom line takes as long as I guessed, and I don’t rush to finish at the mirror as I make myself presentable again. Surely the regression to chronic flirting will no longer be on display after twenty minutes.
Meet back at the table?
Kit
No. Sorry, we need a few minutes. Meet up soon.
Why so cagey? I plod back to my pitiful spot with my back to the building and slink down.
A FaceTime call buzzes on my watch—Davis.
I stare … and manage to unzip my pocket and answer on my phone before it’s too late.
“Scarlett!” A hoodie over his beanie, and his nose is red. Where is he?
“Bruce,” I eke out. My voice is hoarse.
He shakes his head with a smirk. “Sometimes I forget how beautiful you are. It just hit me all over again.”
I roll my eyes, but the world around me brightens. The snow is whiter. Happy chattering noises reach me from the other side of the lodge.
“You’ll never guess what I found out today,” he says.
“That you’re a shameless sweet talker?”
He grins. “That’s not news.”
“True. What then?”
“The universe wants us to be together.”
A spark lights in my frozen chest. “Oh does it?”
“No, it does. Listen to this. I’m in Colorado too.
Twenty minutes from you. The guys I came up here with are skiing another day, but I was ready for something different.
I tried out snowshoeing this morning, and then I was gonna rent a snowmobile.
Found some guys who invited me to join their group—stop laughing at me—so I’m killing time while they get my waiver ready, and I saw your reel.
” Those warm brown eyes smile into mine.
A bell dings as he opens a door. “I’ll be back in an hour or something,” he calls to someone.
“Sorry about that!” Snow fills the screen behind him.
He skips down outdoor stairs. “How long are you up here? What are your thoughts on snowmobiling? I wonder, is it dangerous to snowmobile when it’s getting darker?
I bet I could find someone to rent us one with a light on it or something, right? These people seemed cool.”
His attention is a hit of something—exactly what I was needing. Relief and thrill course through my veins. All I can do is laugh.
“You’re not saying anything, Sophie Appel.
I’m not mad about it though. Your laugh is everything.
” He steps into an SUV. “Hold up. Don’t go anywhere.
” His video shows the Pause button, but I can hear him talking to himself as he types on his phone.
“Cooper. Leadville. Yep. Twenty minutes away. That’s insane.
Thanks, Fate.” He’s back. “I was trying to be chill about it, but now that I’m looking at you, I’m just heading your way.
I’ll be there in twenty. Is that cool with you? ”
My jaw goes slack. “What about your snowmobiling group?”
“Are you kidding? Why would I go with those random dudes when the Sophie Appel might come with me? Will you? Will you please go snowmobiling with me?”
Is this you? Is this your mercy? Your kindness? Are you showing me that I’m still lovable? Is this a gift? You know me so perfectly, and you know this is exactly what I want. It’s what I need.
But it sits in my chest like an ill-fitting puzzle piece.
Davis’s seat belt shrinks back into the wall as he waits for my reply.
“That sounds like exactly what I need today.” I’m sure I can find a way back to Kit’s house. Uber or something. I try to cram the puzzle piece in my head.
He pumps a fist. But my stomach slides into my throat.
And I know.
I absolutely know.
But this is so perfect. Isn’t every perfect gift from you? Please. Please let me have this.
But I know.
With a breath, I open my free hand on my lap. My shoulders slump, head drops back to the brick wall. A sob threatens in my throat. But I choose the Truth.
You. I pick you. This won’t work. He can’t fix me. He can’t fix this. Not for long. I need you. Even if it hurts. I pick you. I’ll sit in this if that’s what you want.
Peace floods my distraught, lonely heart.
I love you. You are my handiwork.
“It doesn’t have to be a date.” Davis’s voice breaks through. Serious, like he knows too. “We can be adventure-junkie friends.” A vulnerable half smile. “I’ll take whatever you want to give.”
My head swivels side to side, almost involuntary. “I can’t. I’m sorry. You deserve better.”
“The ‘Jesus told me’ card.” The camera droops as he drags open the SUV’s door. “You know how many times I’ve heard that?”
I pull in a breath. “He didn’t tell me anything. I’m telling him something. I like you, but it’s not enough. Have so much fun.” And I punch the red button. As I lower my phone, the enormity of my aloneness settles around me. And yet I’m okay. Digging under my sleeve, I find my bracelet.
With you, I’m okay.
My phone dings, and I brace for a text from Davis. But it’s Kit.
Kit
Meet us at the beginning of the parking lot, please.
Um, okay.
I stand, adjust my shirt, and steel myself. Two hours in a car with the human embodiment of “We Are Never Getting Back Together.” Should be a blast.
I need you close. Get me through this too.