Chapter 5
Daria
I wake up smiling for the fourth morning in a row, and I take a second to remember why.
Nick.
The warming hut. His hands on my body, his voice in my ear, the way he looked at me like I was the most beautiful thing he'd ever seen.
We made it back to the resort late that night after the storm cleared. He walked me to my door and kissed me until I was dizzy, then made me promise to meet him for breakfast.
That was yesterday. We spent the whole day together—"officially" for a ski lesson, unofficially because we couldn't stand being apart. He found excuses to touch me constantly. I found excuses to make him laugh. And when we said goodnight, the promise of more hung between us like a vow.
Now it's the next-to-last day of the retreat, and reality is creeping in. Tomorrow I return home. Back to my cramped apartment and my job and my regular life where magical mountain men don't exist.
But maybe—maybe Nick and I can figure this out. Long distance isn't ideal, but Evergreen Lakes is only a one and a half hour flight from Phoenix. We could make it work. We could try.
I check my phone. No messages.
That's fine. It's early. He's busy with morning lessons.
I get dressed and head to breakfast, scanning the dining hall for him. He's not there. Devon's behind the coffee station, and when he sees me, something flickers across his face.
"Morning, Daria. Coffee?"
"Please. Have you seen Nick?"
"He's, uh, in a meeting. With Kelly. The retreat coordinator."
My stomach drops. "Is everything okay?"
Devon hesitates. "I'm sure it's fine. Just routine stuff."
But his tone says otherwise.
I grab my coffee and sit with Madison, Joelle, and Claire. They're discussing their final full day—one last group activity, farewell dinner tonight, then checkout tomorrow.
"You're quiet," Madison observes. "Is everything okay with Nick?"
"Yeah. I think so."
But doubt is creeping in. What if the meeting is about us? What if someone saw us at the warming hut? What if Kelly is warning him off?
I spot Nick across the room an hour later, talking to Kelly by the windows. Even from here, I can see the tension in his shoulders. Kelly's expression is professional but firm, and Nick's nodding, jaw tight.
When Kelly walks away, Nick glances toward our table. Our eyes meet.
He looks away first.
That tiny rejection lands like a punch. I watch him leave the dining hall without coming over, without a smile, without anything.
"That was weird," Joelle says.
"Maybe he's just busy."
But I don't believe it.
The rest of the day passes in a fog. I don't see Nick at lunch. Don't see him at the afternoon group activity. Don't see him at the spa.
My roommates try to distract me, but all I can think is that I did something wrong. Pushed too hard. Wanted too much. Scared him off by being too intense, too needy, too me.
By dinner, I've convinced myself this was all a mistake. A week-long fantasy that was never meant to survive contact with reality. Nick probably does this every retreat—finds a lonely woman, makes her feel special, then disappears when things get complicated.
Except that doesn't match the man who held me in the warming hut. Who looked at me like I was the only person in the world. Who whispered that he was falling for me.
Unless I imagined that part. Heard what I wanted to hear instead of what he actually said.
During dinner, I see Nick across the room talking to another instructor. He's laughing at something she says, relaxed and easy. Like he's not avoiding me. Like everything's fine.
Like I don't exist.
The invisibility I thought I'd shed wraps around me again, familiar and suffocating. Just as I apparently deserve.
"Daria." Madison touches my arm. "Talk to us."
"There's nothing to talk about. I was stupid and thought—" My voice cracks. "I thought this was real."
"Maybe it is," Joelle says. "Maybe something happened. You should talk to him."
But I can't face the rejection I'll see in his eyes, or hear him explain it was fun, but he's not looking for anything serious. Or have him let me down easy while confirming every fear I've ever had about not being enough.
So, I do what I've always done. I make myself small. Quiet. Invisible.
After dinner, I go back to the suite and start packing. Tomorrow we leave, and I can put this whole humiliating experience behind me.
There's a knock at the door. My heart leaps—maybe it's Nick, maybe he's come to explain—
But it's Kelly, holding a clipboard and wearing her professional smile.
"Hi, Daria! Just doing the final feedback surveys. This is a new program, so we’re checking with guests. Do you have a minute?"
I let her in, answering her questions about the retreat experience. Everything's fine, I lie. The activities: great. Accommodations: perfect. Staff: professional.
"And your ski instructor?" Kelly asks. "Nick, right?"
My throat tightens. "He was very professional."
"Good. That's good." Kelly makes a note. "We work hard to maintain appropriate boundaries between staff and guests. I'm glad you had a positive experience."
The emphasis on "appropriate boundaries" is subtle but unmistakable.
She knows. Or suspects. And Nick's pulling away because he's been warned.
After Kelly leaves, I sit on my bed, staring at my half-packed suitcase.
Of course this wasn't real. Nothing ever is.
I'm twenty-three and na?ve, and I fell for an experienced man who knew how to make me feel special. The age gap I thought didn't matter? It matters. He's thirty-five with a career and a life here. I'm fresh out of college, barely making rent, living in a different city.
We're from different worlds. And I was foolish to think a week at a mountain resort could bridge that gap.
I turn off the lights and climb into bed, but sleep doesn't come. I stare at the ceiling, replaying every moment with Nick, looking for the clues I missed. The signs that it was temporary. That I was temporary.
By tomorrow, I'll be gone. And Nick will move on to the next retreat, the next woman who needs to feel seen.
And I'll go back to being invisible.
Just like always.