“What’s wrong?” I ask when Dad and Donovan are deep in conversation about some business call.
“Nothing.”
“You’re a terrible liar. Come with me today,” I tell her. “I want to show you something.”
“Show me what?”
“You’ll see. Get your coat.”
Twenty minutes later, we’re geared up and heading toward the garage where we keep the snowmobiles.
“Have you ever ridden one of these?” I ask, pulling out helmets.
“Once. In college. I was terrible at it.”
“Perfect. I love teaching terrible students.” I hand her a helmet. “You’re riding with me.”
“Is that safe?”
“Probably not. But where’s the fun in safe?”
She laughs, and the sound makes my chest feel lighter despite the persistent ache.
I climb on first and help her settle behind me. Her arms wrap around my waist, tight and trusting.
“Hold on,” I tell her, and gun the engine.
We take off across the snow, and she shrieks in my ear before dissolving into laughter. I push the speed higher, carving through fresh powder, taking turns that make her grip me tighter.
This is what I love. The rush. The freedom. The feeling that nothing can touch me when I’m moving this fast.
And having Samantha behind me, laughing and alive, makes it even better.
We ride for an hour, exploring the trails that wind through the estate. I show her the frozen lake where we ice skate in January. The old hunting lodge that’s been abandoned for decades. The overlook where you can see three mountain ranges on clear days.
When we finally stop at a clearing with a view of the valley below, she’s breathless and grinning.
“That was incredible,” she says, pulling off her helmet. “Terrifying, but incredible.”
“Best combination.” I dismount and help her down. “Come on. There’s a spot over here.” I lead her to a fallen log that’s been there for years. We brush off the snow and sit, looking out at the white expanse below.
“It’s beautiful,” she says quietly.
“Yeah.” But I’m looking at her, not the view.
We sit in silence, watching the snow fall in the distance.
“Can I ask you something?” she says eventually.
“Sure.”
“Do you ever want more than this? More than the reckless lifestyle and the adrenaline?”
The question catches me off guard. “What do you mean?”
“I mean…do you ever think about settling down? Finding something permanent?”
I want to make a joke, keep things light like I always do. But something about the way she’s looking at me makes me want to be honest.
