Chapter 6
Nick
I've been a coward, and I hate myself for it.
Kelly pulled me aside with her concerns. "Nick, I need to ask—has anything inappropriate happened between you and one of the retreat guests?"
My silence was answer enough.
"I'm not judging," she continued, though her tone said otherwise. "But we have policies for a reason. Power dynamics, professionalism, liability. If something happened with a guest, especially with the age difference I've noticed—"
"Nothing inappropriate happened." Technically true. Daria wanted it. Consented enthusiastically. There was nothing inappropriate for two adults choosing each other.
But Kelly's pointed look said she wasn't convinced. "Just remember, you represent the resort. And she's very young, Nick. I'd hate for there to be any... misunderstandings."
The implication was clear. Back off, or there will be consequences.
So, I did what I thought was noble. I gave Daria space. Stayed away to avoid making things awkward for her, to avoid jeopardizing my job, to avoid all the complications Kelly planted in my head.
The age gap. The power dynamic. The fact that Daria has her whole life ahead of her and I'm just a ski instructor who'll never be more than that.
But watching her at dinner tonight and witnessing her smile fade, her shoulders hunch, watching her make herself small again—I realized something.
By protecting her from me, I'm hurting her. Just like staying invisible hurt her before.
She thinks I'm pulling away because I don't want her. Because she wasn't enough. Because the warming hut was a mistake.
And that's the furthest thing from the truth.
Devon finds me after dinner, fury in his eyes. "What the hell are you doing?"
"Staying professional."
"You're breaking her heart." He gets in my face. "That woman is amazing. She's into you. You're into her. And you're throwing it away because of what? Kelly made you nervous? You're scared of the age gap?"
"She deserves better than—"
"Don't." Devon cuts me off. "Don't decide what she deserves without asking her. She's not a child, Nick. She's a grown woman who chose you. And you're taking that choice away from her."
He's right. God, he's right.
I focused on all the reasons this won't work that I haven't considered the one reason it will: we want it to.
"She leaves tomorrow,” Devon says. "If you're going to fix this, fix it now."
I don't sleep. By the time the sun rises on the last day of the retreat, I've made my decision.
Screw the optics, Kelly's concerns, and my own fears.
I want Daria. And she deserves to hear that.
I check the slopes, looking for her. She's not at breakfast. Not at the equipment shed. Finally, I spot her heading toward the intermediate run alone, shoulders set with determination.
I follow.
She's standing at the top of the run, looking out at the valley. The morning sun lights her hair, and she's so beautiful it hurts.
"Daria."
She spins, eyes going wide. Then her expression shutters, and I watch her shut down in front of me. "Nick."
"I need to talk to you."
"I think Kelly already covered everything." Her voice is cold, defensive. "Professional boundaries. No fraternizing. I get it."
"No, you don't."
"Then explain it to me." She crosses her arms. "Explain why you spent all that time avoiding me. Why did you look at me yesterday like I was a stranger? Why did you make me feel like what happened was a mistake?"
"It wasn't a mistake. God, Daria, it was the furthest thing from a mistake."
"Then why?"
"Because I'm scared." The admission cracks something open.
"Kelly warned me about the age gap and professionalism and all the ways this could go wrong.
You're twenty-three with your whole life ahead of you, and I'm thirty-five and stuck here teaching ski lessons.
I'm terrified I'll hold you back or you'll regret me or—"
"Stop." She holds up a hand. "Stop deciding what's best for me without asking me."
Her voice is shaking but strong. Stronger than I've ever heard it.
"I'm not a child, Nick. I know there's an age gap. I know we live in different cities. I know this is complicated." She steps closer. "But for once in my life, someone saw me. Really saw me. Made me feel like I was worth something. And you're going to take that away because you're scared?"
"I'm terrified," I admit. "What if I hold you back? You wake up in five years and regret—"
"What if we have five amazing years?" She's right in front of me now, eyes blazing. "What if we have fifty? The only regret is not trying."
"What about what people will say? The age difference—"
"I don't care what people say." Her voice breaks but doesn't waver. "I care about what I feel. And I feel seen with you. I feel brave. I feel like I matter."
She's magnificent. Fierce and vulnerable and certain.
"I have spent my whole life waiting for permission to want things," she continues. "Waiting for someone to tell me I was allowed to take up space. But I'm done waiting. I want this. I want you. And if you want me too, then stop deciding for me and let me choose."
Everything within me that was holding back shatters.
I pull her into my arms and kiss her—desperate and claiming and full of everything I've been too afraid to say. She kisses me back with equal ferocity, hands fisting in my jacket.
When we break apart, we're both breathing hard.
"I want you," I say against her mouth. "I've wanted you from the beginning. And I'm sorry I made you doubt that. For the rest of my life, I won’t ever make you doubt anything from me."
"Don't push me away again."
"Never." I frame her face with my hands. "Come home with me. Not to my place—I mean to Evergreen Lakes. Stay. We'll figure it out together."
"I have an apartment lease. A job—"
"We'll figure it out," I repeat. "Long distance if we have to. But I'm not letting you walk away without fighting for this. For us. I’ll move to Phoenix if I have to."
“There’s no snow there.” She giggles.
“I don’t care; I’ll find a job anywhere, as long as I have you. We can make it work.”
Her smile is brilliant, unguarded. "Together."
"Together."
I kiss her again, slower this time. Savoring. Around us, the mountain is waking up—other skiers appear, the resort comes to life. I don't care who sees. Don't care what Kelly thinks or what anyone says.
“Stay a couple more days. Please.”
She leans back and gives me one of her rare, indulgent smiles, and my heart skips.
“Okay.”
This woman chose me. And I'm choosing her right back.
We ski down together, hands linked, laughing when we almost wipe out. At the bottom, I pull her close.
"I'm in love with you," I murmur into her hair.
"I love you." She pulls back to look at me. "I think I have since the moment you told me everyone falls."
"Best ski lesson I ever gave."
She laughs, and it's the best sound in the world.
We spend the rest of the day joined at the hip. I blow off my afternoon lessons by taking a sick day, and show Daria my Evergreen Lakes. The coffee shop where I get my morning fix. The trail I hike when I need to think. The overlook where you can see the entire valley.
"I could live here," she says softly, staring at the view.
"Yeah?"
"Yeah." She looks at me. "I mean, I'd need to find work. And I'd have to break my lease. But Phoenix was never home anyway. It was just... where I ended up."
Hope blooms in my chest. "Are you saying—"
"I'm saying, let's try. Really try. Not long distance—I want to be here. With you."
"You don't have to decide now—"
"I'm deciding now." She's certain. Strong. "You taught me to be brave, Nick. Now I'm choosing bravery. I'm choosing you."
I kiss her breathless there on the overlook with the valley spread below us.
"Move in with me," I say. "I know it's fast, but I have a house with space for a home office. You can work remotely, being a transcriptionist. We'll figure it out together."
"Yes." No hesitation. "Yes, to all of it."
That night at the farewell dinner, I don't hide. I sit next to Daria, arm around her shoulders, and when Kelly raises an eyebrow, I meet her gaze.
This is happening. And I'm not apologizing for it.
Later, walking Daria to her suite for the last time, she stops me outside the door.
"Thank you," she whispers.
"For what?"
"For seeing me, and making me believe I'm worth being seen."
"Daria." I tip her chin up. "You've always been worth it. You just needed someone to show you."
"Well, you showed me."
"You did the hard part and chose to be visible."
She kisses me, soft and sweet. "I love you."
"I love you too."
Tomorrow she'll pack. We'll make plans, figure out logistics. Tomorrow the retreat ends and real life begins.
But tonight, I'm holding the woman I love, and she's choosing me.
And that's everything.