Grace and Walter had picked up Marcus and Cody an hour ago. The boys had volunteered to help set up for the gala. They’d been buzzing with excitement all week. This morning at breakfast, Marcus had almost slipped and mentioned the dance before Cody kicked him under the table.
Jason had left twenty minutes ago to pick up Mauve. They were meeting at her place first, then driving to the gala together. Jason had been grinning like an idiot all day, clearly smitten.
Roan had spent the afternoon with Logan, finalizing paperwork for the foster parent licensing process. Signatures, background check confirmations, references. The machinery of bureaucracy turning slowly but surely. Logan said everything was going well. Marcus’s emergency custody was solid, and Cody’s placement was holding while they worked toward something permanent. It had taken longer than expected, but it was done.
He pulled the ring box from his nightstand drawer and opened it. The diamond caught the light, sparkling. In a few hours, if everything went according to plan, this would be on Reese’s finger. She’d be his fiancée. Eventually, his wife. Already, his whole world.
His phone buzzed with a text.
Reese
Change of plans - can you just meet me at the gala? Grace needs help with some last-minute setup and I told her I’d come early. Is that okay?
Roan
Of course. I’ll be there at 6.
Reese
Perfect. Can’t wait to see you.
Roan
Me too.
Reese
I love you.
Smiling, he tucked the ring box into his jacket pocket, checked his appearance one more time, and headed downstairs. He grabbed his keys, thick coat, and headed out to the SUV. The temperatures had dropped this afternoon, freezing the snow that lay on the ground. The roads would be slick, but he was leaving with plenty of time to spare. No need for speed. He brushed off the windshield and climbed inside, starting the engine to let it warm up.
He put the SUV in drive and headed toward town. The roads were slick but manageable if he took it slow. As he drove, his mind raced, thinking through how he wanted everything to go. The performance would be during dessert. The boys would handhim the ring after they’d completed the dance. He’d get down on one knee in front of everyone.
It started snowing. Just a few stray flakes, harmless enough, tapping the windshield like ash. Then the sky seemed to split open. Snow came down hard and fast, swallowing the road in seconds. The world beyond the glass blurred into a shifting wall of white. He clicked the wipers up a notch, then another, the blades scraping back and forth in a losing battle as visibility shrank to a few car lengths. Headlights reflected off the flakes, making it harder to see. He slowed, gripping the wheel as the familiar landscape vanished beneath fresh snow.
Silent Nightplayed softly on the radio, way too calm and absurd considering he couldn’t see a thing. Roan leaned forward slightly, hands tightening on the wheel, eyes fixed on the narrowing tunnel of visibility in front of him. He rounded a bend in the road, and suddenly there it was.
A moose.
Massive. Enormous. Standing in the middle of the road like it owned the place, its antlers spanning wider than his SUV. It stared at him with dark, unblinking eyes, completely unbothered by the vehicle bearing down on it.
Roan slammed on the brakes. The SUV immediately started to slide on the slick road, fishtailing. He cranked the wheel hard to the right, trying to avoid the moose, but the vehicle had no traction. Time seemed to slow. He could see the moose turn its head to watch him pass. Could see the shoulder of the road rushing up. Could see the large pine tree directly in his path.
The impact was sudden and violent. The passenger side of the SUV crunched into the tree with a sickening sound of metal and shattering glass. The airbag deployed, slamming into his chest and face. The world went white and loud and then, suddenly, horribly still. For a moment, Roan couldn’t breathe. His chest hurt where the seatbelt had locked, and his ears wereringing. He could smell the acrid chemical smell of the deployed airbag, could taste blood in his mouth from where he’d bitten his lip.
He pushed the deflating airbag away with shaking hands and looked around. The passenger side was completely smashed in, the door crumpled like paper, glass everywhere. His phone, which had been sitting on the passenger seat charging, was crushed under the caved-in dashboard. Completely destroyed.
“No. No, no, no.” He grabbed for it anyway, pulled out the mangled remains. The screen was shattered, the frame bent at an impossible angle. Dead.
He tried to open his door. It was stuck. He pushed harder, using his shoulder, ignoring the pain. Finally it gave way with a screech of protesting metal, and he stumbled out into the snow. His legs were shaky. His hands were trembling. But he was okay. Nothing broken. Just bruised and shaken and stranded on the side of a dark road in a snowstorm with no phone. However, the ring and the corsage were safe in his pockets. At least there was that.
And that darn moose was gone. Wandered off like nothing had happened. He stood there for a moment, snow collecting on his jacket, staring down the empty stretch of road. Of course the moose was gone. It had blocked his path, caused damage, left him shaken, and then disappeared, untouched by the wreck it had caused. Just like all the other forces in his life that had kept him from the one person in his life he couldn’t live without.
It was maybe three miles back to the house and two miles ahead—in the opposite direction—to town. His SUV was totaled, steam rising from under the crumpled hood. No phone. No way to call for help. Reese would think he wasn’t coming. Just like prom. He’d spent fifteen years regretting his choice that night. He wasn’t making the same mistake twice. Even if he had to crawl to that gala, he was getting there.
Anyway, he was still standing. The moose, the weather—none of it was keeping him from his purpose. To make sure Reese knew how much he loved her and that nothing would ever tear them apart again. The road to Reese hadn’t vanished. He just couldn’t see it very well. He looked toward town, tucked somewhere beyond the bend, and started walking.
The snow eased as suddenly as it had begun. The wind died down, and, for the first time since the crash, the night opened up around him. The road ahead was still slick, still dark, but no longer swallowed by white. Ahead, faint but unmistakable, were the lights of town—steady and warm—hovering just beyond the bend.
