Chapter Seven
Ithrow up. A lot. Then I clean myself up. Wash my face. Brush my teeth. Twice. And run my fingers through my hair a couple of times before giving up on it entirely.
I trudge back to our bedroom to find that Ethan has fallen back asleep but is only gently snoring, which makes a nice change.
And Juniper … Juniper is smiling in her sleep, my husband’s broad arms wrapped around her like a Christmas bow.
Woah.
Their peaceful breathing is completely in sync as their chests rise and fall as one. And I think I’m okay with this. Am I okay with this?
I quietly gather the clothes I’ve slung across my suitcase then back out of the room, leaving them to sleep soundly, soaked in sunshine. I’m sure they’ll wake up soon enough.
I don my thermal leggings and my long-sleeved top and stand in the kitchen, feeling oh so sexy—not. Then I busy myself making coffee.
My stomach growls, and I place the kettle on the stove then bimble around tidying the living room while I wait for the whistle.
The candles have melted down to their wicks. God, we could have so easily burned the whole bloody place down last night. We were so careless! I smile. Oops.
I gather up the wine/shot mugs—yikes—and take them back to the kitchen with me, along with the two bottles.
Wait.
I giggle to myself, rushing back then shoving on my coat and snow boots. I pull open the door and the cool breeze blasts me with the freshest woodland air. Oh my god. I hungrily breathe it all in, restoring my body with every new breath, the cool wind on my face like a tonic.
I step out onto the balcony and make fresh prints in the snow as I traverse the top deck then settle at the wooden railings, looking out over it all.
The snow has stopped, and the endless blue sky tops miles of winter firs.
I could live here. Seriously, I could. I never want to leave.
I carefully troop down the steps, holding the handrail for dear life as I slip on a patch of ice three steps down. Jesus. I mean, if I’m going to go out with a bang, I’ll be glad it’s here, but still …
I make it the rest of the way, and there it is, safely nestled in the steadily melting snow.
The white wine. I snatch it up, laughing as it doesn’t slosh or slop around in there but is instead completely frozen solid.
I carry the bottle back up by its neck then retreat once more to the kitchen, where I do the washing up and place it in the empty sink to thaw.
I make myself a coffee and debate making one for Ethan and Juniper, but … I mean, if they’re not awake by now … who’s to say they won’t sleep a while longer?
I tip-toe back to our bedroom, ease open the door, and am met with the sight of two people definitely not sleeping. Ethan and Juniper are wide awake, smiling, and chatting, as if it’s their honeymoon and they’re the happy couple who have just risen from a perfect nine-hour sleep.
“Hey,” Juniper croaks, her voice all rusty and raspy.
“Hey.” I give a little wave then immediately regret the cringey gesture.
But Juniper beams at me, and maybe being a bit cringey is fine.
“Have you been outside?” Ethan asks, seemingly not at all phased to have woken up next to someone who isn’t his wife.
“Um … yeah,” I reply. “Got the white wine!” I chuckle, and he slaps a hand to his forehead.
“Can’t believe we forgot the snow wine!” His laugh bounces around the room.
“I think we can still drink it once it’s defrosted?” Juniper shrugs, a hopeful expression on her face.
“Well, it’ll definitely be chilled,” I say, somewhat frostily.
Ethan looks up at me. “Are you okay?”
“I’m fine.” I paste on a smile. “Just hungover.”
Ethan eyes me but lets it go. “What do you wanna do today?” he asks as Juniper stretches upwards, releasing a wide yawn.
I hover in the doorway, clutching my coffee, as if I’m the one intruding. “I think we might need a reset day today.” I hold up my mug and both of them stare at it, eyes wide. I laugh. “Coffee?”
Juniper nods, her gaze watery.
Ethan answers aloud for them both: “Oh god yes.”
And off I go to fetch the morning coffee for my husband and our fun new friend.
We have our coffees out on the deck, overlooking the snow-covered firs, their branches dripping as the sun warms them through to their bright green needles.
Our car is free now. The storm is well and truly over, the snow just a pretty blanket we could easily cross if we wanted to …
Isn’t it better that we’re not snowed in?
I steal a glance at Juniper, the sunlight glistening on her pale skin. If she stays now, we’ll know for sure she likes us back. But would I really care that much if she didn’t? I look away, hurt by my own line of thinking. Of course I’d care. We’d all care. We’re in this together.
“It’s so beautiful here,” Ethan remarks, and I can’t help smiling as I look at him all dressed up in his sexy lumberjack gear, as if he were but a handsome woodman passing by and not an English college professor on a winter holiday.
“It really is,” I say.
“I never could get sick of this view,” Juniper says wistfully.
“Did you grow up around here?” I ask.
“Yeah. Just down the road actually.”
“No way.” I’m instantly jealous. “How come you moved away?”
Juniper looks out over the woods, her expression pensive and far away. “I was eighteen when my dad got this job in Chicago.” She shrugs. “My sister had already moved out—thank god—but I wasn’t exactly in a rush to go with them.”
“I get that,” Ethan says. He moved into halls his first year of university, then after getting his degree and his PhD and everything, I guess he was already so settled living away from home that he never went back.
I swallow. It was never like that for me.
I lived with my parents until I met Ethan.
Heck, I was still living at home when I was what …
twenty-four? Twenty-five? I had never even thought about moving out and living on my own or with friends.
I just figured I’d leave when the time was right.
Then Ethan came along and that was that.
Maybe that’s why me and Mum were so close—because I stayed. Or maybe I stayed because we were so close.
“So, erm … did you go with them?” I ask tentatively.
Juniper grins, mischief colouring her expression. “Nope!”
Ethan looks at her. He’s hanging on her every word.
“That’s when I bought my campervan,” she says proudly, but her face falls as she looks out at the beautiful sunshine. “You know, I could probably get to it now … if you want me to?” she asks quietly.
I shake my head. I don’t want her to go. Things have been going so great between us. It’s been sort of magical, actually. And yeah, maybe I got a bit jealous when she was with Ethan, but that’s gotta be pretty normal, right?
I stand, intending to walk right over to her, to hold her and reassure her that she’s wanted here, with us. But then again…
What if she feels trapped? What if she doesn’t really like us at all, and now we’ve made things super weird? What if she really does want to go back to her campervan and she just doesn’t wanna hurt our feelings?
Instead of going over to her, I take myself over to the railings where, to my absolute joy, she quickly joins me, followed swiftly by Ethan.
We stand there, gazing out, the three of us, alone together on the edge of the whole world.
Then, finally: “I want to stay,” Juniper says, so softly her words are nearly whisked away by the mellow whisper of wind.
But we’re standing side by side, close enough to hear her every word, perhaps her every thought. And I believe her now. I believe she truly wants to be here with us.
Then she turns to me, tears in her eyes. “Can I stay?”
“Fuck yes!” I open my arms to her, and she walks right into my embrace, with Ethan folding himself around us from the other side.
“Hey.” I pull back slightly and wipe away my own brimming tears. “This is all new to us too, y’know?”
Her small laugh is sodden with tears, but she smiles at me then smiles at Ethan.
“We all get to choose whether we stay or go,” I say. “And if this is all the time we have together, then …”
They both look at me and nod.
“But you both have to promise, and I will too, that if any one of us wants out, then that’s fine. This can only work if we all want this.”
Though I don’t even know what this is.
Juniper nods, and I wipe away another tear.
“Okay. I promise,” Ethan says, as if taking a solemn vow.
“I promise too,” Juniper says sincerely.
“And I promise three,” I say, and we all get the giggles. “Now, let’s go inside,” I say. “I’m out of coffee, and it’s fucking freezing out here!”
“Last one in gets more firewood!” Juniper calls then races to the front door.
I hurry after her, and though Ethan could easily outrun me, he holds back, letting us win.
“I’ll go get the wood,” he says. “Give you guys some time to yourselves.” He smiles and a burst of warmth spreads through me, though I’m not even fully back inside.
“Thank you,” I say.
He grins. “Love you.”
I can’t help but swoon. “Love you more,” I tell him. And I vow to myself that that will never change.