Or a liar, I wanted to say. But hecould’vebeen telling the truth. So instead, I forced a little smile and replied, “Yeah, it does. One of those things you just gotta be prepared for.”
As I paid, Adrian suddenly becameveryinterested in the chewing gum rack.
Mr. Griffin handed me the receipt with a warm smile.
“It was good seeing you, Chesteria. Good luck up there. And if y’all do get snowed in, just remember… bears don’t knock.”
“Stepping Into Familiar Air… and Unfamiliar Energy.”
Roughly ten minutes later, the SUV crunched through fresh powder as the trees finally parted and the cabin came into view—big, bold, and beautiful against the snowy mountainside.
Adrian leaned forward in the passenger seat, squinting as though he’d just spotted a unicorn.
“Damn. You bought a cabin this big… just for yourself?” he asked, eyes wide with awe and lowkey disbelief. “You should be renting this muthafucka out.”
I gave a short laugh and shook my head as the car pulled to a stop.
“Nah… it’s too significant.”
I didn’t explain… I didn’t need to.
I unbuckled my seatbelt and smiled faintly. “Well, let’s get our weekend started.”
Adrian hopped out of the car a little too fast and made a beeline for the trunk, clearly anxious to confirm his suitcase had survived the trip. Usually, he’d open my door without a second thought.
Damn, did he forget?
Or maybe he’s just too excited?
Either way, I charged it to the moment and got out on my own.
The crisp mountain air kissed my face as I stepped out, boots crunching against the freezing ground. It wasn’t snowingyet; just cold enough for my breath to fog as I made my way toward the front door with the key in my hand and my heart tugging at the familiarity of it all.
I opened the door slowly, and the first thing that hit me was the smell. It had been three months since I’d been there, and the same soft mix of pine, cinnamon, and old fireplace ash still wafted in the air. The leather couch sat exactly where it used to, with that same woolen throw draped over the arm. The tall bookshelf still leaned just a touch to the left, like it was shy. My favorite mug, the one with the chipped handle and the words“Caffeine & Boundaries”, still sat by the kitchen window like it never left, but one thing was new. There was a massive, ultra-mounted flat-screen TV hung on the wall. It was way bigger than the old one, Bryce, and I used to fight over every Super Bowl.
I smirked.
Bryce, this has your name written all over it.
Before the memory could take up more space than it deserved, Adrian’s voice echoed behind me.
“Daaamn, it’s nice in here! Now this is what I call a cabin!” he exclaimed, walking in with onlyhisbags.
He looked around, impressed, then dumped his bag onto the couch, treating my sanctuary as temporary housing.
The trunk? Wide open, like it was sick of being a trunk and wanted freedom.
The car door? Hung open like it was waiting on Jesus to close it.
My bags? Still sitting there like abandoned children.
The groceries? Bundled together like hostages trying to stay warm, probably shivering like they forgot their coats.
The wind? Blowing actively inside the house like it was giving a house tour.
“You uh… left the trunk open,” I pointed out.
“Oh yeah,” he nodded easily. “I left it open so you can get your bags.”
