Which she hoped would be soon.
If she thought that she’d known what cold was earlier today on their twenty-minute walk home, she’d been sorely mistaken.
During her two-hour snowblowing extravaganza, which she’d have to do all over again in a few hours, her fingers had gone numb, whether her nose was still attached to her face was anyone’s guess, and she’d started pretending that she could breathe out her very visible puffs of air into specific shapes. That last one was probably a sign that hallucinations had set in, butshe was pretty pleased with the approximation of a penguin that she’d managed, anyway.
The only problem was that, as the hours had worn on outside, Hallie had done the absolute worst possible thing that she could do. She’d startedthinking.
Too much, in fact.
The kind of thinking that made the simplicity and ease of the day with Brynn float away. In its place had settled a wild, skittering feeling that started to cause uneasiness instead of excitement to churn in her stomach.
It was like a stone was growing in her gut, and with each pass through the parking lot, it had gotten heavier.
Because Brynn Fitzpatrick, regardless of the moments that they’d shared today, was a force to be reckoned with. And everything she’d done for Hallie only reinforced that idea.
Brynn was a woman on the verge of, well, whatever it was that Brynn wanted out of this life. An incredible person who’d already been through so much and was just starting to come into her own identity. She was brave when it counted and pulled no punches to protect and support the people who she cared about.
And Hallie…
Well, she spent the majority of her existence avoiding conflict in her personal and romantic lives. All with the goal of insulating herself so that she never had to feel the sting of rejection or failure.
The realization hit her as she made her final turn with the snowblower, one last foot-wide stretch of white powder between her and the warm indoors.
With Brynn.
The prospect wasn’t nearly as enticing as it had felt when they’d been at the brewery, holding hands and making gooey eyes at one another, like the real world hadn’t existed.
Because, tragically, it did.
And in Hallie’s world, life happened around her, not to her. And on the off chance that someone waltzed into her sterile existence who could change it all, she, apparently, deluded herself just long enough to get into the precarious predicament that she found herself in now.
Self-sabotage at its finest. The Hallie Thatcher Special.
She and Brynn would probably never work. Not without Hallie being left to pick up the pieces of her crushing disappointment when Brynn decided that a small life wasn’t what she wanted.
It hadn’t been confirmed for her, since she didn’t have any IQ tests on hand, but Hallie was pretty sure that Brynn was a literal genius. Who was also gorgeous and funny and thoughtful.
To her own credit, Hallie wasn’t completely emotionally useless. She knew that Brynn saw something in her, too. That this push and pull between them could only happen when both sides were invested in what was happening.
But for how long?
How could Hallie ever be enough to make life in Stoneport worth it for someone like Brynn? She barely wanted to hang out with herself some days, so it wasn’t a far leap to assume the same must be true for other people.
It was definitely true for her family. Which was the demoralizing truth that bubbled to the surface whenever she went on this winding, unhealthy spiral.
She was so fucking tired. Physically. Emotionally. Mentally.
She maneuvered the snowblower to a spot near the steps at the front door and turned it off. Her gloves and hat were quickly discarded when she was back inside the inn. With less than 50 percent occupancy, an unexpected storm on their hands, and their groundskeeper out of commission, she wasn’t going to get hung up on the little details.
She stood in front of the fireplace long enough that feeling started to return in her hands.
Before she’d gone outside, she’d texted Brynn and told her that, under no uncertain circumstances, should she subject herself to the outdoors, too.
At the door leading to the apartment, Hallie took off her boots to let them dry in the hallway, followed quickly by her waterproof pants.
Even though she still felt like she could smell snow, her nose once again seemed like it was part of her face, which she was ridiculously grateful for.
It wasn’t late, but Brynn hadn’t turned on the lights in the living room. Actually, Hallie realized, glancing around, Brynn wasn’t in the living room at all.
