He’s the only good thing I’ve ever done completely right.
My reason for even still being here, my anchor, the one piece of my life that’s never felt like a mistake.
I brush my fingers lightly through his hair, careful not to wake him, then ease myself out of bed.
My bare feet sink into the carpet, and I pad toward the window, wrapping my arms tight around my body.
The morning light is dim and blue, filtered through a sky swollen with snow.
Outside, the town looks like something out of a postcard—rooftops capped in white, trees bent under the weight of it. Across the street, the park in the courtyard is buried completely under.
It’s a shame it snowed so badly and out of the blue yesterday.
Every December, our town throws together a Christmas Market in the park, Eli’s favorite weekend activity. With how deep everything is buried, I doubt there will be one today.
I spot a few deep tire tracks carved into the road, proof that someone braver—or hell, stupider— than me tried driving through it.
Probably someone from the committee coming around to check how bad this side of town got hit.
But judging by how still everything is, I doubt anyone’s going to be leaving their houses today.
Aside from that, there’s no way I can drive back to Dad’s house. Which means we’ll have to wait it out or walk.
The idea of trudging through the snow again, especially after yesterday, feels impossible.
Not to mention even if I do try, I’ll be scolded by Callum again.
A dull ache throbs behind my eyes, the leftover echo of too many tears and not enough sleep.
I rub at my face, trying to push the heaviness away, but the memories creep in anyway.
I don’t remember much after Callum sitting me down on the couch. Just the blur of voices and the sound of someone locking the door sometime after.
The solid warmth beside me had lulled me to sleep, and I should have woken up on the couch.
Which means one of them must’ve carried me in here sometime last night.
I shouldn’t feel comforted by the thought of one of them tucking me into bed, but I do.
I glance back at Eli, his tiny hand still fisted in the blanket, and I remind myself what’s at stake.
Losing myself in them is only going to complicate things.
Even if I could believe the spark from years ago was still there, even if I could delude myself that their protectiveness, their desire to keep me around wasn’t something born out of nostalgia, eventually they’ll have to return back to their old lives, states away, while I remain here.
I move to the mirror by the dresser and grimace at my reflection.
My eyes are red-rimmed, the faint smudges of sleeplessness still shadowing the skin beneath them.
My hair’s a mess, tangled from tossing and turning all night, and there’s a faint crease down the side of my cheek from the pillow.
I look like someone who’s barely holding it together.
And the worst part? That’s exactly how I feel.
In just a few minutes, once Eli wakes up and I have to step out there, I’ll have to face them.
They’ll have questions about Jared, about Eli, about what the hell last night was and I’m not at all ready for any of it.
