“It shouldn’t have happened,” he said, softer now.“You’ve got Maddy.A whole life.You don’t need me messing that up.”
Her stomach twisted.“You didn’t seem too worried about that last night,” she pointed out.
“I wasn’t thinking straight.”
What the hell?Her face flushed hot with shame.“So it was a mistake?”Ellie demanded.
He looked away.“I didn’t say that.”
“But you meant it,” she said, heart deflating.
He didn’t answer.That silence said everything.
Ellie stood, grabbing her clothes with shaking hands.She dressed quickly, avoiding his gaze, her fingers fumbling with the buttons of her sweater.Last night’s intimacy felt like a cruel joke now, like a dream she’d let herself believe in for too long.
“I must’ve been an idiot,” she said flatly.“Thinking anything changed.”
“Ellie...”Dasher began.
“I’m fine,” she said, cutting him off.“We’ll get back to town, unload the toys, and pretend none of this happened.Like always.”
“That’s not what I want.”
“Then what do you want, Dasher?”she snapped, turning to face him.“Because I’m tired of the mixed signals.I’m tired of you pulling me in just to shove me away.”
He opened his mouth, but no words came.
She shook her head.“Exactly.”
The wind had stilled outside, but the cabin suddenly felt colder than it had all night.
Ellie grabbed her boots and yanked them on.She didn’t want to cry.Not here.Not in front of him.Not again.
He moved toward her, reaching for her arm.“Ellie—”
She flinched away before he could touch her.“Don’t.”
A beat of silence passed.
Finally, she said, quieter, “You don’t get to pick and choose when I matter.”
That seemed to land somewhere deep, because he flinched like she’d struck him.But he still didn’t say the one thing she needed to hear.He didn’t reach for her.Didn’t fight for what they’d shared last night.
So, Ellie did what she always did when it came to Dasher.She swallowed the ache, pasted on a brittle smile, and walked past him toward the door.
The drive back was silent.No music.No small talk.Just the occasional crackle of the heater and the sound of tires crunching through slush as they wound their way back into town.
Ellie stared out the window, arms folded tight across her chest.The snow had blanketed everything in white, turning the world soft and silent.It should’ve felt magical.It didn’t.
Every now and then, Dasher glanced her way, like he wanted to say something.But whatever words he found, he swallowed them down.He kept his hands on the wheel and his heart locked up tight.
By the time they reached the community center, Ellie was vibrating with restless, frustrated hurt.She helped unload the boxes in silence, her movements sharp and efficient.The volunteers were too busy unpacking to notice the tension between them, but it hung in the air like smoke.
Dasher carried the last box inside, then turned back to her.
“Ellie,” he began.
“Thanks for the ride,” she said coolly, already walking toward her car.
