Chapter 44- Ellie
I groan into my pillow, but then I remember.
Starlace Hollow.
The trip.
The cabins.
The fancy dinner.
The whole day with Oliver’s family.
Suddenly I’m wide awake.
Moony jumps onto the bed like she’s been waiting for this exact moment, tail thumping against the blankets. Bunter wiggles out from under the covers, stretching like a tiny loaf of bread.
“Okay, okay,” I laugh, rubbing my eyes. “I’m up.”
Oliver sits up beside me, hair messy, voice low and sleepy. “Morning.”
He looks unfairly good for someone who just woke up.
We get ready quickly — warm clothes, comfy shoes, my hair in a loose braid. I double-check the dogs’ bags, our suitcase, the fancy outfit for tonight, and the snacks.
By the time we load everything into the car, the sky is still dark, the air cold enough to make my breath fog.
We pull up to Oliver’s mom’s house, and the whole family is already outside.
His mom waves excitedly.
His sisters are half awake but buzzing.
Grandma is bundled in a giant coat, holding a thermos like it’s holy.
Moony jumps out of the car and immediately runs to greet everyone. Bunter wiggles in my arms, whining to be let down.
“Morning, sweetheart!” Oliver’s mom says, hugging me tight.
“Morning,” I laugh.
We all shuffle around, loading bags, organizing snacks, making sure Grandma has her seat cushion.
Then Oliver’s mom claps her hands. “Okay! Two cars. Oliver, you follow me.”
So it ends up:
Car 1: Oliver, me, Moony, Bunter
Car 2: His mom, sisters, and Grandma
Oliver pulls out behind them, and the caravan begins.
The sky slowly lightens as we hit the highway, soft pink and gold spreading across the horizon. Moony curls up in the backseat. Bunter falls asleep in my lap.
I glance at Oliver.
He’s quiet.
Not in a bad way.
Not in a distant way.
Just… quiet.
Like he’s thinking.
Processing.
Holding something inside.
His hands are steady on the wheel.
His jaw is relaxed.
His eyes are soft.
But there’s something in the air — something warm and heavy and unspoken.
“You okay?” I ask softly.
He glances at me, smiles a little. “Yeah. Just… taking it all in.”
I don’t push.
I don’t need to.
The silence between us is comfortable, full, peaceful.
The kind of silence that feels like love.
We drive through winding roads lined with tall pines, the morning light filtering through the branches. The closer we get, the colder the air becomes, the more the world looks like a postcard.
And then—
We turn onto the road that leads to Starlace Hollow.
The trees open up.
The lake appears.
The cabins sit nestled in the woods, warm lights glowing in the windows.
It’s beautiful.
Like something out of a dream.
Oliver parks behind his mom’s car, and the second we step out, the cold air hits my cheeks, crisp and clean.
Moony jumps out and immediately starts sniffing everything like she’s on a mission.
Bunter wiggles in my arms, whining to be put down, so I set him on the ground and he toddles after Moony like her tiny shadow.
Oliver’s mom steps out of her car and spreads her arms wide. “We’re here!”
His sisters cheer. Grandma lifts her thermos like she’s toasting the mountains.
The cabin is perfect — dark wood, big windows, smoke curling from the chimney. Warm light glows from inside, and the whole place smells like pine and cold air and something magical.
Oliver grabs our bags from the trunk. “Come on,” he says softly, nudging me with his shoulder. “Let’s check it out.”
Inside, the cabin is even better.
A stone fireplace crackles in the corner.
Thick blankets are draped over the couches.
The kitchen is small but cozy.
The windows look out over the lake, where the morning light dances on the water.
Moony runs straight to the fireplace and plops down like she owns the place. Bunter tries to climb onto the couch but is too small, so Oliver scoops him up and sets him beside her.
His mom and sisters start unpacking groceries. Grandma claims the rocking chair by the window.
I stand there for a moment, taking it all in.
“This is beautiful,” I whisper.
Oliver looks at me — really looks — and something in his eyes softens. “Yeah,” he says quietly. “It is.”
There’s something in his voice I can’t place.
Something warm.
Something full.
But before I can ask, his mom calls out, “Who wants hot cocoa?”
The girls cheer.
Grandma raises her hand.
Oliver laughs.
I help his mom in the kitchen, and she keeps smiling at me — that soft, knowing smile she gets sometimes. It makes my stomach flutter, but I don’t know why.
After cocoa, everyone decides to explore the lake trail before lunch. Oliver and I fall a little behind the group, walking slowly, Moony trotting ahead and Bunter bouncing through the snow like a tiny marshmallow.
The air is cold, but Oliver’s hand is warm in mine.
He’s quiet again.
Not tense.
Not distant.
Just… thoughtful.
Like he’s carrying something inside him he hasn’t said yet.
“You’re really quiet today,” I say softly.
He squeezes my hand. “Just thinking.”
“About what?”
He looks at me, eyes warm and deep and full of something I can’t name.
“You,” he says simply.
My heart stumbles.
Before I can respond, his sisters call out from ahead, “Ellie! Come take a picture with us!”
I laugh and jog toward them, Moony and Bunter chasing after me.
But as I turn back, just for a second, I catch Oliver watching me.
Like he’s memorizing me.
Like he’s holding a secret.
It sends a little flutter through my chest.
After the pictures, we all walk the trail together. The lake glitters through the trees, the air crisp and clean. Moony runs ahead, barking at birds. Bunter tries to keep up, slipping in the snow and popping back up like a tiny marshmallow warrior.
By the time we circle back to the cabin, everyone is hungry and freezing.
Inside, the fireplace is still crackling. Oliver’s mom heats up soup she brought from home, and we all gather around the table — warm bowls, warm hands, warm laughter.
Grandma tells stories about past trips to Starlace Hollow.
His sisters argue about who makes the best hot cocoa.
Oliver’s mom keeps smiling at me like she knows something I don’t.
And Oliver… Oliver keeps brushing his knee against mine under the table.
Not on purpose.
Not obviously.
Just enough to make my heart skip.
After lunch, everyone splits off to rest or explore the cabin. I take Moony and Bunter outside for a little walk around the property. The snow crunches under my boots, and the air smells like pine and winter.
When I come back inside, Oliver is sitting on the couch, staring into the fireplace.
He looks up when I enter.
And the way he looks at me…
it steals my breath for a second.
Soft.
Warm.
Full.
“Hey,” I say, brushing snow from my sleeves.
“Hey,” he murmurs, standing and walking toward me.
He takes Bunter from my arms, sets him down gently, then wraps his arms around my waist. I melt into him instantly, my cheek pressed to his chest.
“You okay?” I ask again, quieter this time.
He nods against my hair. “Yeah. Just… happy.”
Happy.
The word settles in my chest like a warm ember.
We stay like that for a moment — just breathing, just holding each other — until his mom calls from down the hall:
“Kids! Start getting ready! Our reservation is at six!”
I pull back, smiling. “Fancy dinner time.”
Oliver smiles too, but there’s something behind it. Something soft and nervous and excited all at once.
“Yeah,” he says. “Fancy dinner.”
I head to the bedroom to get ready, and Moony follows me like my furry shadow. I lay out my dress — the one I packed carefully last night — and start doing my hair.
As I curl the last strand, I catch my reflection in the mirror.
I look… happy.
Really happy.
And for some reason, it makes my heart flutter in a way I can’t explain.