Chapter 9
NINE
SOPHIE
I wake to the scent of pine.
And him.
It’s on my skin. On the sheets. On the man slumbering next to me.
It’s the morning after. At least, I think it’s morning. There’s a hint of sunlight streaming through the blinds. But if it’s morning, then that means Cliff and I have spent most of the night engaged in foreplay, sex, or post-coital bliss.
Which means I’ve barely slept. Not that I’m complaining. I haven’t felt this desired, aroused, or satisfied since… well, ever.
Cliff’s chest rises and falls beneath my cheek, his skin warm against mine. We’re tangled up in his hotel bed, the sheets askew, our limbs still wrapped around each other like we couldn’t bear to let go in our sleep. Which, I suppose, is exactly what happened.
For a moment, I just listen to his steady breathing and try to freeze time. I don’t want to move. I don’t want to ruin the illusion that this could be more than a temporary escape. That maybe, just maybe, I could stay here in this quiet, wild place with this quiet, wild man.
But the light slipping through the window is too golden and insistent. And my suitcase is half-packed in the corner. And my flight back to Seattle is in a few hours.
I inhale a shaky breath and press a soft kiss to Cliff’s shoulder before carefully sliding out of bed. He stirs slightly, reaching for me in his sleep, but doesn’t wake.
In the bathroom, I brush my teeth and splash water on my face. My reflection looks different. Softer somehow. More open. Like I’m standing on the edge of something I never planned for.
I need to talk to him.
I need to tell him about the IVF. About why I came here. And about what changed.
I don’t expect him to want to drop everything and follow me to Seattle. I don’t even expect him to want more than we’ve had this week. But I can’t leave without telling him the truth.
He deserves that.
I finish dressing and walk back into the room just as Cliff is sitting up, rubbing his eyes. His hair is tousled, and the sleepy smile he gives me when he sees I’m still there nearly undoes me.
“Hey,” he says, voice rough. “You trying to sneak out on me?”
“Nope.” I sit next to him, my hip pressing against his. “But I do have to leave to catch my flight soon.”
He frowns, like he’d forgotten that was even a possibility. Then he reaches for my hand and threads his fingers through mine.
“Can I take you to the airport?”
“Sure.” I swallow hard. “But there’s something I want to talk to you about first. Something I should’ve told you earlier, but… I didn’t know how.”
After what we’ve shared these past few days, I don’t feel right leaving without telling him about what I have planned back in Seattle.
I don’t feel right leaving without telling him that I’m having second thoughts. Because I’m falling for him.
His brows draw together. “Okay. What is it?”
Before I can choose my words, his phone buzzes on the nightstand.
He glances at the screen and groans. “Shit.”
“Everything okay?”
He reads the message, then sighs and scrubs a hand over his face. “Fire call. I’m a volunteer with the unit. They need everyone on site—a structure fire about thirty minutes out.”
My heart sinks. “You have to go.”
“I don’t want to.”
I smile sadly. “But you have to. Because you’re that kind of man.”
He groans again and leans in to press a kiss to my forehead. “I’ll be back as soon as I can.”
“Don’t worry about me. I’ll be fine.”
He kisses me once more—slow and full of longing—then grabs his gear and heads out the door.
I sit for a few minutes in the now-quiet room, my heart heavy.
There’s no chance he’ll be back before I have to leave. There’s no chance I’ll get to tell him what’s on my heart.
So, I tear a page from the hotel stationery and start to write:
Cliff,
I wanted to tell you this in person, but life had other plans.
I came here to Alaska because I needed one last adventure before starting the next chapter of my life. I was going to become a single mom through IVF. I thought I knew what I wanted. What I needed.
And then I met you.
You made me laugh. You made me feel wanted. Seen. Cherished. Like maybe I wasn’t as alone in this world as I thought.
I’m not asking for anything. I know your life is here, and mine is back in Seattle. But I wanted you to know that this meant something to me. That you mean something to me.
With all my heart,
Sophie
I fold the letter and leave it with a girl standing behind the motel’s front desk to give Cliff when he returns. Because I know he will.
Heart heavy, I gather my things and head to the airport.
I stir a spoonful of honey into a mug of peppermint tea and breathe in the steam, hoping it’ll settle my stomach. So far, it’s not working. Neither is the plain toast I’m slowly nibbling between sips. My nerves are too high for anything more substantial.
This was supposed to be a big day. An empowering day. One I’ve dreamed about and planned for a long time.
Yet, here I am. Curled up in my pajamas, second-guessing everything.
I glance at my phone. It’s sitting face-up beside my empty plate, buzzing every now and then with notifications I refuse to check, because I know they aren’t the one I want to see.
But it’s been two weeks. I haven’t heard from him in all that time. There’s no reason to think I will now.
After the fourth time my phone lights up, I turn it over, silencing the screen.
Bile rises in my throat, but I swallow back against it. I’ve already prayed to the porcelain goddess this morning. Twice. I don’t want to do it again.
If I’m this sick now, I can’t imagine what it’ll be like when I’m actually pregnant.
Though, I suppose I won’t be too upset about puking my guts out every morning if it means I’m finally on my way to having a family. The toast turns to paste in my mouth. I reach for my phone again and tap out a quick message.
ME: You home from your honeymoon yet?
WINTER: Got back last night. What’s going on??
ME: I’m getting ready to leave for the clinic. It’s happening today.
WINTER: And how do you feel?
ME: Torn.
My phone rings immediately. I answer on the first ring.
“I’m sorry,” Winter says without preamble, her voice tight with guilt. “If I’d known you were going to fall for him, I never would’ve pushed you together.”
“You never pretended it was supposed to be anything more than a fling.” I give a short, humorless laugh. “I’m the idiot who caught feelings.”
“You’re not an idiot.”
“I feel like an idiot. But…”
“But…” Winter prompts.
“I don’t regret it,” I say quietly. “Even if it hurts now. I just thought—hoped—there might be more. I left him a letter at the front desk. Told him everything. I haven’t heard a word.”
“You did what?” Winter’s voice sharpens.
“I left him a letter,” I repeat, pressing a hand to my fluttering stomach. “I poured my heart out. Told him how I felt. That I wanted to try IVF, but that I’d fallen for him anyway.”
“And he never responded?”
“Not even a text.”
There’s a tense silence on the other end before she growls, “Maybe he didn’t get it.”
“Maybe.” I swallow hard. “Or maybe he did and decided not to say anything.”
“Don’t,” Winter warns. “Don’t do that. Don’t assume the worst. Cliff might be an emotionally constipated mountain man, but he’s not cruel. If he’d read that letter—if he knew how you felt—he would’ve said something.”
“Please don’t go confronting him,” I say. “You know how stubborn he is. If he didn’t reach out, he had his reasons.”
“That doesn’t mean they’re good reasons.”
“Maybe not. But it doesn’t matter. I was the one who said it was just a fling. I meant it—at the time. I told him not to get attached.”
“But you did.”
“I know,” I whisper. “I really did.”
Winter lets out a slow breath. “Do you still want to go through with it?”
I look around my quiet kitchen—the mug of tea, the uneaten toast, the half-packed tote with snacks and a book for the waiting room.
“I think so. I mean, I have to try. This was always the plan. I can’t change it just because…”
“Just because my brother is an asshole. And an idiot.” She huffs. “Then I’m here for you. Every step of the way. And so is Slate.”
A tear slips down my cheek. “I love you. Both.”
“And we love you. So much. And we’re going to love that little baby you’re going to have.”
“Thank you.” I wipe under my eyes and force a smile. “My baby is going to love their Auntie Winter and Uncle Slate.”
“I can’t wait to spoil them. Now.” She gives me a stern. “You should go do something to distract yourself. Go get a mani-pedi. Get a pumpkin spice latte. Take a walk.”
“Jeez bossy when you’re nervous.”
“Damn right.” Winter sighs gently. “But seriously, take care of yourself. And if you need me, promise to call me later. Hell, call me later even if you don’t need me.”
“I will.”
“Good. And… good luck. Even though you don’t need it.”
“Wish me some anyway.”
“I wish you all the good things,” Winter says, her voice warm and fierce with love. “Always.”
After we hang up, I turn my phone off and tuck it in my bag. I want complete silence so I can be at peace as I take this huge step.
Even if my heart and tummy are anything but peaceful.