“I know,” I say, dragging my hand over my cheek and stubbing out the cigarette. “Camille's just too dense or self-aware to see it.”
“Which is perfect,” Atlas says, eyes weak on me.
I shrug. “Exactly.”
* * *
Christmas Eve. My family house in Coeur-de-Pierre. I feel like I've been moving on autopilot for months, clearly giving Ivy solid mixed signals.
I've gotten meaner. I know it.
Camille's draped across me on the couch, flicking through her phone. It takes me a second to realize it's my Instagram she's on. Tonight will no doubt end with her sulking about her not being on my socials, and Ivy quite clearly all over it.
My phone vibrates.
Venom: Merry Christmas, Asher.
Just my name. No emoji, no exclamation point, no warmth. My name like she's testing if she still has permission to use it.
I excuse myself. Step onto the patio where the temperature's dropped below freezing. My breath fogs the air.
You too.
Three dots appear. My heart kicks against my ribs.
I'm going to Veilarath for the holidays. Leave in four weeks.
Veilarath. Her home away from home. I know this because I've been watching every update she posts on Instagram.
Alone?
The question is out before I can stop it.
Does it matter?
It shouldn't. For so many fucking reasons it shouldn't.
How long?
Haven't decided.
I do the math. Her birthday's in almost two months.
The balcony door slides open. Camille appears, wrapped in a shawl. “It's freezing out here. What are you doing?”
I ignore her. “Making a call.”
“In this weather?” She shivers dramatically. “Come inside.”
My phone buzzes again.
Actually, forget I said anything. Have a good holiday, Asher.
Forget I said anything.Like she's already regretting reaching out. Like she's closing a door I didn't realize was still open.
Like I'm not about to ruin her life.
Later—much later, when everyone's drunk and loud and no longer paying attention—I escape to my childhood bedroom. The walls still have posters from when I was younger. My old snowboard leans in the corner. Everything frozen in time, preserved like a museum to the person I used to be.
