11. Ava #2

“Thank you,” I said softly, clasping my hands in front of me.

“Not a problem.”

“Chris says it depends on how I do with PT, but I’m an overachiever,” I added with a grin.

Tanner laughed. “I have no doubt.”

Just like that, the air shifted, heat and sparks suffusing the space around us.

I almost kissed him again, but I held back. My reaction to him was starting to make me feel a little crazy.

“I’ll see you soon,” he said, stepping toward the door.

“I’m going to hold you to that.”

He turned back with a wink, and my belly spun in tingly flips. As soon as the door clicked shut behind him, I just stood there.

This wasn’t even my life. It felt like a movie I’d been dropped into halfway through, and now I had to figure out the plot. I was out of the hospital. I had a place to stay. I’d met a firefighter who’d carried me off a mountain, brought me pizza, and kissed me like a dream.

What was I going to do next?

As I stood there, leaning on my crutches, I shifted carefully in a slow circle.

This was my temporary home. Back when my friends had planned my “divorce trip” last summer, I’d been excited even though I was bitter, angry, and humiliated, mad at myself for marrying Brad in the first place.

I’d just wanted anything to take my mind off it all.

We’d loved Willow Brook so much that we promised to come back when it was colder and we could see the snow.

Mission accomplished. Winter had arrived in time for our trip, at least at the higher elevations, with snow bright on the mountains and some dusting elsewhere.

I sighed, crutched my way over to the sectional and sank down with a soft “Ooof.”

It was comfortable. “Thank you, Tate,” I called out into the empty room, offering a silent salute to the mysterious man whose rental I now occupied.

A gust of loneliness swept through me like a sudden blast of wind against my skin. It was different, being here now, out of the hospital. There, I’d been distracted.

Now I was just floating inside a giant question mark. I didn’t even miss home, but somehow, I felt lonely everywhere I went. “Oh well, oh hell,” I muttered aloud.

The Ava back home would’ve reached for the remote by now. I would, eventually. But for now, I shifted to stretch my legs and let my gaze wander out the big front windows.

The view was stunning. The mountains shimmered in the distance, layered in white and shadows. I sighed again, trying to find the word for how I felt. Discombobulated. Like my life had lost its balance and gotten dizzy.

I wasn’t going to pretend this was some earth-shattering, life-defining injury. I broke my ankle. It sucked. But it wasn’t the same as surviving a plane crash.

My phone buzzed. I looked down and saw Mom lighting up the screen.

Oh, Mom. I loved her. I really did. But I didn’t even know how to explain to her that being here, miles away from their expectations, was a relief.

I was the one who always kept it together.

For my parents. For my sister. For everyone.

Now, they wanted me to keep more together, too.

The whole failed marriage, cheating husband, “you’ll be okay” optimism.

Fuck my life.

I didn’t answer. That wasn’t like me, but I didn’t feel like talking. Not today.

I leaned my head back against the cushion, blinking back the sting of tears.

Get it together, Ava. Find your attitude. You need it.

Just then, a knock came at the door. My eyes widened.

“Hi!” a bright voice called through the door. “I know you broke your ankle. I promise I’m friendly. My name’s Josie. Can I come in?”

A laugh bubbled up before I could stop it. “Come on in,” I called.

The door opened, and a curly-haired, smiling woman with twinkling eyes peeked around. She looked so familiar, yet I was drawing a blank. “Do I know you?” I asked, curious.

“Well, you do now,” she said cheerfully. “I’m Josie. I’m Tate’s fiancée.”

She stepped inside, waving a mitten-covered hand. “I help him manage these rentals. He’s the real estate guy,” she added with a playful eye roll. “Anyway, I just wanted to check that you had everything you need.”

I started to move, but she rushed over and sat on the couch next to me. “No, no, no—don’t get up. See? I beat you,” she teased. “You might’ve seen me at Firehouse Café—I fill in there sometimes.”

“Oh! That’s probably it. But also…” I squinted, trying to place her. “I really feel like I’ve seen you somewhere else.”

Josie grinned. “Well, I did ski in the Olympics once.”

“Aha!” I pointed at my foot. “I always wanted to be a skier. Loved watching it growing up. Guess my hopes are officially dashed.”

Her eyes went wide before she burst out laughing. “I mean, maybe don’t give up just yet.”

“What’s the rent?” I asked, getting practical.

“Nope. Absolutely not. Tate always keeps one cabin available in the offseason for people who need it. You need it. End of story.”

“I don’t even know what to say.”

She tilted her head. “You could say thank you and carry on.”

“Thank you.” My voice cracked, and my smile wobbled. “Sorry. I’m just not used to people being this nice.”

Holly had found me this place. Tanner had given me a ride. Josie and Tate refused to charge me rent.

Josie leaned in, her expression soft. “It’s a small town. We help each other out. Holly vouched for you, and that’s good enough.” She paused. “You okay?”

I blinked. “Yeah. Just, uh, overwhelmed.”

Josie smiled. “Totally understandable.”

We talked a little more, and I learned she’d grown up here. She startled me when she asked if I wanted to host a potluck card night.

“Wait—me? Host?”

“Sure,” she said. “You can’t drive. So we bring it here. What do you say?”

“I’m all about friends. That’s the whole reason I came on this trip.”

She grinned. “Perfect. I’ll text you the details. Speaking of, let’s swap numbers.”

We exchanged info, and she paused on her way out. “Oh, and by the way,” she said, eyes dancing. “Tanner’s single. And he’s awesome.”

I blushed immediately. “Josie!”

“What?” She winked. “I have a feeling about you two.”

“What kind of feeling?”

“The good kind.” She opened the door. “Okay, gotta run. Talk soon!”

After she left, I sat there for a long minute, phone in hand, with my heart full.

I wasn’t home. I wasn’t even in a familiar place. But maybe, just maybe, I wasn’t as alone as I thought.

If ads affect your reading experience, click here to remove ads on this page.