I agree with a nod, looking at my own hands in my lap. This territory is new. Ivy and I rarely fight, and not over anything like this. The room is heavy and fragile all at the same time.
“I also owe you an apology. Storming out of here, on foot, wasn’t what I should’ve done. We both deserve more than what happened today.” She locks her green eyes on mine. “You’re right, I’ve been overwhelmed with this new event and I’m trying to be better at handling it.” Her eyes dart around, as she fidgets her fingers in her lap.
“We’ll both do better next time,” I say before leaning in, putting my hand under her chin, and putting my lips on hers. Nothing feels better than when she kisses me back.
This conversation was so much worse in my head. I went back and forth about how it would go and I feel relieved, seeing where we ended up.
It’s not perfect or completely resolved, but I don’t feel like I’m being crushed with uncertainty.
“Come here,” I say, putting my arm out, giving Ivy room to lay against me.
She picks Slate up, rearranging his sleeping position, before closing the space between us. Ivy wraps her arm around my stomach and puts her head on my shoulder.
A wave of warmth washes over me, like the sucker I am. Tonight, the three of us, together on the couch, is all I need.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
Ivy
3 DAYS BEFORE THERED CARPET EVENT
I wake up and the house is too quiet—pitch black. When I pull an arm out from under the blanket, I can tell it’s much colder than it should be.
With a gentle shake, I wake Holland up. “I think the power went out.”
He sits up, rubbing his eyes, taking in the room. “I’ll go turn on the generator. Be right back.”
As soon as Holland is out of his spot, Slate pads over, but this time he’s trying to get under the blanket, which isn’t common. I pet him, feeling the tips of his cold ears.
Grabbing my phone, I see that it’s a little after four in the morning. I open the weather app to see the same warnings and calls for large amounts of snow. The only thing that’s changed is that it’s currently happening.
When I look at the radar, playing the projection for the next twelve hours, it's just the entire screen covered in blue. I have to watch it more than once to ensure the radar is actually moving.
It’s only a few minutes before Holland is coming back up the stairs. He flicks the light on quick, probably to check all is well with the generator.
“Well, I’ve never seen this much snow since I’ve lived here,” he admits while crawling back into bed.
“Really?” A pit forms in my stomach. I’m just not in the mood for record breaking blizzards or anything. “Is there anything we should be doing?” I ask, while turning towards him.
Holland picks up the blanket, confused at Slate, before getting comfortable, putting his hand on my hip. “Besides sleeping? No. Nothing to do.” I stare at him and I think he feels it when he says, “They will get a hold of me if they need anything at the lodge. Bea texted saying they lost power, but the generators kicked on automatically and everything is okay there.”
I was hoping the lodge would still have power but I feel better knowing everything is okay.
The wind blows and rattles the windows. I turn on rain sounds on my phone—it’s still too quiet. With Slate pressed against me, his steady breathing, and Holland’s heavy arm, I’m able to drift back to sleep.
It feels like thesun is in our bedroom—that’s how bright it is. I squint, trying to open my eyes, and all I see from the bed is white blowing by the windows.
I peel myself from the warm bed and walk over to a window. There’s not much to see besides miles and miles of white. It’s still snowing and the wind blows it as it falls, making it look like it’s everywhere.
“How’s it looking out there?” Holland asks, voice heavy with sleep. I look over to see him stretching. Even in the winter, he doesn’t sleep with a shirt on. His muscles are always agoodway to wake up.
“Very white. And cold.”
I fall back into the bed and reach for my phone. My weather app tells me that it’s still snowing, shocker, and that you should basically stay where you are. It’s not like anyone could see a road anyways. Looking at the forecast for the next few days, the snow will continue, but the winds should die down.
A notification, from the airline, pops onto my cell phone screen: your flight has been canceled.
“No!” I borderline scream. Holland jumps because he must have been drifting in and out of sleep. Slate also pops up.
