"What about what people will say? The age difference—"
"I don't care what people say." Her voice breaks but doesn't waver. "I care about what I feel. And I feel seen with you. I feel brave. I feel like I matter."
She's magnificent. Fierce and vulnerable and certain.
"I have spent my whole life waiting for permission to want things," she continues. "Waiting for someone to tell me I was allowed to take up space. But I'm done waiting. I want this. I want you. And if you want me too, then stop deciding for me and let me choose."
Everything within me that was holding back shatters.
I pull her into my arms and kiss her—desperate and claiming and full of everything I've been too afraid to say. She kisses me back with equal ferocity, hands fisting in my jacket.
When we break apart, we're both breathing hard.
"I want you," I say against her mouth. "I've wanted you from the beginning. And I'm sorry I made you doubt that. For the rest of my life, I won’t ever make you doubt anything from me."
"Don't push me away again."
"Never." I frame her face with my hands. "Come home with me. Not to my place—I mean to Evergreen Lakes. Stay. We'll figure it out together."
"I have an apartment lease. A job—"
"We'll figure it out," I repeat. "Long distance if we have to. But I'm not letting you walk away without fighting for this. For us. I’ll move to Phoenix if I have to."
“There’s no snow there.” She giggles.
“I don’t care; I’ll find a job anywhere, as long as I have you. We can make it work.”
Her smile is brilliant, unguarded. "Together."
"Together."
I kiss her again, slower this time. Savoring. Around us, the mountain is waking up—other skiers appear, the resort comes to life. I don't care who sees. Don't care what Kelly thinks or what anyone says.
“Stay a couple more days. Please.”
She leans back and gives me one of her rare, indulgent smiles, and my heart skips.
“Okay.”
This woman chose me. And I'm choosing her right back.
We ski down together, hands linked, laughing when we almost wipe out. At the bottom, I pull her close.
"I'm in love with you," I murmur into her hair.
"I love you." She pulls back to look at me. "I think I have since the moment you told me everyone falls."
"Best ski lesson I ever gave."
She laughs, and it's the best sound in the world.
We spend the rest of the day joined at the hip. I blow off my afternoon lessons by taking a sick day, and show Daria my Evergreen Lakes. The coffee shop where I get my morning fix. The trail I hike when I need to think. The overlook where you can see the entire valley.
"I could live here," she says softly, staring at the view.
"Yeah?"
"Yeah." She looks at me. "I mean, I'd need to find work. And I'd have to break my lease. But Phoenix was never home anyway. It was just... where I ended up."
