Chapter 7
Chapter Seven
ELENA
UNKNOWN
Good afternoon, Doc.
My phone buzzed with a text from an unknown number, sending an unwelcome flutter through my stomach. I already knew who it was before I typed my response.
ELENA
Who is this?
UNKNOWN
Your snowboarding instructor.
I caught myself smiling at the screen and immediately felt guilty about it. But I still saved his contact information, my fingers moving of their own accord while my brain screamed at me to delete the message thread entirely.
ELENA
How’d you get this number?
CHASE
Tessa gave it to me.
The lie was obvious—Tessa would never—and something inside me was glad he hadn’t actually asked her. Which made me feel even more guilty.
CHASE
Well, she didn’t so much give it to me as I took the liberty of extracting it from her phone.
She really should be more careful about leaving her belongings lying around my parents’ house.
I pressed my lips together, trying not to smile again. The way he owned up to it, completely unapologetic... it was refreshing after years of Peter’s calculated manipulations.
ELENA
What is she doing at your parents’ house?
The question came out before I could stop it, along with a sharp stab of jealousy that I had absolutely no right to feel.
CHASE
Unclear, but if I was a betting man, I’d say she’s fucking my brother.
Heat rushed to my face at his bluntness. This man had no filter, and god help me, I liked it.
CHASE
But that’s not why we’re here
How was your massage?
I take it you made it home safely this morning
His concern was sweet, and while I relished the attention from this man, I was playing with fire. All it would take was Peter picking up my phone, reading my texts, assuming the worst, and taking things further than he ever had before.
ELENA
You shouldn’t be texting me.
My fingers trembled as I typed the words, hating how much I wanted him to argue.
CHASE
Why is that?
Three simple words that made my heart race. He knew exactly why—we’d been through this at the lodge. But here he was, making me say it again, making me choose.
ELENA
I’m married.
The words felt hollow, rehearsed. Like lines from a play I’d performed too many times. I stared at my phone, watching the bubble with three dots appear then disappear. Appear, disappear. My breath caught each time as I wondered what he’d say, what I wanted him to say.
CHASE
Just wanted to let you know that I’m officially a ski instructor at Sable Point Resort and Spa. So if you’re ever interested in another lesson, you know where to find me.
Pride swelled in my chest for this man I barely knew. It was odd, feeling proud of Chase for simply getting a job—especially since I hadn’t felt proud of a single thing Peter had done for years.
It was hard to have pride in a man you despised.
ELENA
Congratulations. Unfortunately, I think my snowboarding career has come to an end almost as quickly as it began.
CHASE
Shame. Have a good day, Elena.
The smile on my face lingered. I’d just finished running a flat iron through my hair when I heard the door from the garage open and shut.
In an instant, the house felt different.
The air got heavier, colder somehow. I’d been hoping to be gone before Peter got home, but I’d spent too long staring at Chase’s messages, letting myself imagine. ..
No. Don’t go there.
“Elena! Where are you?”
My hands shook slightly as I secured my ponytail. “Upstairs!”
Peter’s footsteps on the steps were measured, deliberate. He always walked like that when he was angry—like a cat stalking its prey. By the time he appeared in the bathroom doorway, I’d steadied my hands and schooled my features into careful neutrality.
He filled the doorway in his perfectly pressed clothes, not a hair out of place despite his morning of travel. The stark overhead lighting caught his green eyes in a way that used to make my heart skip. Now it just made my stomach clench.
His gaze dropped to my scrubs, and I watched the transformation happen: charm to ice in the space of a heartbeat. The temperature in the room dropped another ten degrees.
“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?”
The words were soft, almost gentle. Those were always the most dangerous moments with Peter.
I steeled my spine. This was all part of the plan. “I picked up a swing shift at the hospital. I need to start showing my dedication to the department if I want the attending position.”
Peter rolled his eyes. “The only dedication you need to show is to me. I will guarantee your attending position at whatever hospital I see fit.”
I lifted my chin in challenge. “I’ll earn it on my own.”
I was riling him up. I knew it, he knew it. But I couldn’t help it. I was so over his manipulation, his abuse. I wanted out, and I would get there. But if I wanted to survive that long, I should have really stopped goading him.
His smile spread slow and cruel, and I knew what was coming but couldn’t move fast enough to dodge it.
The crack of his hand against my cheek echoed off the bathroom tiles.
My head snapped sideways, and copper flooded my mouth where my teeth had cut into my cheek as my body crashed into the wall.
The medicine cabinet rattled, my bottle of concealer toppling into the sink.
How fitting.
I left for the hospital as quickly as I could, and I spent the rest of the night explaining my “skiing accident” to my coworkers.
I got through my shift on autopilot, rotating through the familiar routine of making excuses.
“Caught an edge while skiing.”
“Still learning to snowboard.”
“You should see the other guy—I mean, the tree.”
Joke, deflect, move on. I had it down to a science by now. They nodded, laughed, didn’t ask questions. They never did.
But tonight was different. Tonight, every time I touched my throbbing cheek, I didn’t think about Peter. I thought about gentle hands adjusting my snowboard stance, about the way Chase’s eyes crinkled when he smiled, about how it felt to not flinch someone’s touch again.
And that was more dangerous than any slap could ever be.