“You don’t sound so sure.”
When my head starts spinning, I close my eyes and suppress a grunt. “What time is it?”
“Almost ten.”
“Oh, no,” I whine. “I slept through my alarm. I was supposed to open and—”
“Dad went in – don’t worry. You’re not feeling well, are you?”
“No,” I whisper. “Nothing a few painkillers won’t—”
“Stay in,” Mom says, with that stern tone of hers she uses when she knows I’m about to be stubborn. “I’ll call the lodge and arrange for another instructor to fill in for you this afternoon.”
“But—”
“Don’t argue with me, young lady. I have an online meeting in fifteen, but I’ll bring you some chicken soup for lunch. Make sure to get some rest, okay?”
I sigh in defeat and slump back on the mattress. “Okay. Can you tell Diego to call me when he’s on his break?”
“Sure thing.” A smile is decipherable through her words, but I’m too frail to think about it. She hangs up, and, not even a second later, I’m dozing off.
I’m not sure how long I sleep before my phone rings again, and when I answer I shiver, even though I’m buried under a pile of blankets. Diego’s rough voice greets me like a ray of sunshine.
“Alara, baby,” he murmurs. “What happened? Are you alright? I have your daily dose of milk waiting on your desk.”
I smile. The concern in his voice is adorable. “I’m not feeling good. But I’ll try to come in this afternoon.” I know that goes against what Mom said, but I hate letting everyone down.
“What? No.”
“Diego, I have—”
“Are you being fucking stubborn right now? We’ll manage without you. I just need you to tell me what you had planned for this afternoon’s skiing lesson.”
I shift to lie on my side and put him on speaker. That picture of him sleeping with Tabby fills my screen, causing my chest to squeeze with something I can’t decipher. “Work on descending in a straight line and making an emergency stop.”
“Snowplough technique?”
“Yes,” I answer so weakly that I can’t help but find myself pathetic.
“I’ve got it.”
“You do.”
“I’ll come see you after the lesson,” he says softly. I can hear some chatter in the background – my dad and Thomas – and I instantly feel bad for abandoning them today. We’re nearing Christmas, which means it’s the busy season, and here I am, being a reckless idiot and getting sick.
“You don’t have to.”
“I want to,” he insists. “I want to see you.”
I sniff. The back of my throat burns, but I don’t know why. “You sound like you miss me.”
Diego chuckles, and it feels like a warm blanket enveloping me. “You wish. Alright, I need to go. I’m on front desk duty today.”
“Don’t crash the system.”
“I know that you think I’m still incompetent at this job. I’d like to point out that you were the one who trained me, so, if I make a mistake, it’s on you.”
“I’ll take the blame.” My smile falls, guilt pooling in my stomach again. “Diego? I’m sorry.”
