“How long do you think the power will be out?”
“Not sure. Maybe a few hours. I can check on my phone when we get back. The hydro company has an outage map on their website.”
Hydro. Sometimes he sounded so Canadian. “It’s like the whole world has just…stopped.”
“Totally different than Los Angeles or New York City, eh?”
“I know.” She burrowed deeper into his parka. The cold was starting to permeate. “I sort of love it, though.”
“It’s nice for a day.”
She slide a look across at him. “Then…why you’re still here, three years later? And not in another city somewhere?”
“Dunno.” He shrugged. “Truly, I don’t.”
“Can I say something you might not like?”
“Sure.”
“I saw a lot of love for this town in your TikTok content.”
He squinted up at the sky. “You watched a lot of it?”
“You know how the algorithm is. Once you accidentally click on your ex’s videos, they just sort of…appear.” And then if you watched them again and again, the algorithm served even more.
“Did you ever get into that? Become a content creator?”
Was her whole body shudder answer enough?
He laughed. “No?”
“God, no.”
“Why not?”
Because she knew she would only ever feel the sting of criticism and rejection. And there was no existing in the public space without that. “I don’t know, exactly.”
A cop out, but she couldn’t bring herself to admit the truth.
Josh looked like he accepted it, though. Then he frowned. “That’s probably enough of a snow and fresh air fix, yeah?”
Monica nodded, reluctantly turning back toward the garage. She didn’t want the walk to end.
Slowly, they plodded back.
She wish she’d brought her phone with her, because the garage looked pretty great surrounded by the freshly fallen snow. Maybe once Josh was done being bitter about the internet, she could suggest it to him as a brand image. She bet Pine Harbour had no shortage of snow storms to take that photo in.
Back inside, Josh guided her through the garage and up the stairs with a flashlight. Then as soon as he flipped the flashlight to a latern mode, he snatched off her beanie.
“Hands off my toque,” she protested.
“My toque,” he corrected. “Your borrowing privileges ended as soon as we stepped inside.”
She reached for it, and he held it up over his head.
“Hey!” She couldn’t lift her arms up that high even when she wasn’t suffering from sore muscles. “Meanie.”
“I’ll make it up to you with dinner.” He gestured to her—his—parka. “Unless you also want me to reclaim that immediately.”
