“Hell yeah! That ain’t no Airbnb! If they ain’t bringing peace or plates, they gotta go. Shid, then it could just be you and Chesteria… snowed in… lil’ romantic storm getaway. That way y’all can finally talk shit out.”
I shook my head, already smiling. “You always think life works like a movie.”
“Sometimes it does… you just gotta stop acting scared of the scene. All I’m saying is, don’t miss your cue ‘cause you stuck on the trailer.”
I chuckled low. But I ain’t gon’ lie… that part about the scene? That stuck with me. Davion said a lotta dumb shit, but every now and then he’ll accidentally preach… like a hood-ass fortune cookie.
I slipped my hand into my coat pocket, suddenly remembering I hadn’t spoken to the number one woman in my life—my mama. It was rare that she hadn’t already blown up my phone at least twice, especially knowing I was headed out of town.
As soon as she answered, her voice came through sharp and dramatic, as expected.
“Bryce Frost, I was two seconds away from reporting you missing… and I don’t mean to the sheriff! I was about to call on the Lord and the prayer warriors! I had Sister Jeanette on standby!”
I chuckled, letting her voice warm me from the inside out. “My bad for not checking in, Ma. But I’m here, and I’m good… physically.”
My mama didn’t miss a damn thing. She was a small woman with a big spirit and a sixth sense when it came to me.
Her tone softened instantly. “That’s good to hear. But is everything okay, baby? You sound a little down.”
I gave her the same rundown I just given Davion about the unexpected reunion with Chesteria, the tension, the storm, the useless roommates… everything. Mama didn’t interrupt once, which meant she was either deeply concerned or preparing asermon. When I finished, the other end of the line was silent.
“Ma, you there?”
“Yes, son,” she finally spoke, her voice quieter now. “I… I’m just shocked.Then again, if the two of you showing up there at the same time, not to mention you’re snowed in, isn’t divine intervention, then I don’t know what is, baby.”
My mama believed in second chances like she believed in God’s grace. She was a praying woman; the kind who still left oil crosses over her doorframe and wouldn’t let nobody eat Sunday dinner until they said grace—long and loud. Another reason Mama felt that way was because she had always loved Chesteria. She used to call her “that firecracker with the good heart.” Even after everything went left, Mama never stopped rooting forus. I could already picture her smile—not the polite one she gave strangers at church, but that real, warm, and proud one that meant she was already thanking God in advance.
“Maybe y’all needed to be snowed in,” she continued, “just to thaw some things out. Bryce, closed doors don’t always stay closed; sometimes they just need a second try at the lock, a different key, a different season, and a willing heart. Don’t let pride keep you from knocking, Bryce… especially if you still hear something on the other side.”
I didn’t always know how to respond to stuff like that, but I always felt it.
We exchanged a few more words, laughs, a “call me if you need me,” and a final “Put on some socks, I know your ankles cold.”
When the call ended, I stared at the phone a moment longer before sighing deeply.
“Gotta love that woman,” I mumbled to myself, pocketing the phone.
I took one last look at the snow-covered hills, squared my shoulders, and headed back toward the cabin door. The air was bitter, but somehow between Davion’s foolishness and Mama’s gospel, I felt a little warmer.
I was still snowed in, but maybe, just maybe, I wasn’t stuck.
Chapter fifteen
Chesteria
“Midnight Coffee & Unfinished Conversations”
Itossed, turned, and stared at the ceiling, the shadows of the room looming over me like restless spirits. It was inching toward one o’clock, and sleep just wasn’t in the cards for me that night. My body was still, but my mind was pacing as it replayed everything from the last two days. Eventually, I sighed and pushed myself up. I slid out from under the blanket and tiptoed into the hallway, careful not to wake the sleeping chaos under the roof.
Adrian had been snoring in the guest room ever since I told him that he wasn’t sleeping beside me—not after the stunt he pulled. I didn’t yell or even argue. I simply pointed down the hall and closed the door, leaving an echo of silence that weighed heavier than anything I could have screamed.
My plan was simple: curl up on the couch, find whatever late-night reruns that might’ve come across the screen, and perhapspretend those last two days hadn't been a tangled mess for at least an hour. But as I drew near the kitchen, a soft glow caught my eye and pulled me into its warmth. There was Bryce, standing at the counter with his back to me, shirtless in his plaid pajama pants, making coffee like he was the only soul awake in the world.
I paused, feeling hesitant. I wasn’t looking to intrude on his moment of solitude. I begin backing away, but his low and inviting voice halted my steps. “You can stay.”
I turned around to find him glancing over his shoulder, the corners of his mouth tugging upward into a half-smile. “Please,” he added.
There was something in the way Bryce saidpleasethat made my heart stutter. It wasn’t just an invite or a casual request; it was laced with an unspoken need.
