After dinner, Eliza tugs on my hand. “Come on,” she whispers. “I want to show you something.”
We slip out, and Eliza leads me to a snowmobile in the garage. My heart pounds with a different excitement now. I've been waiting for this—for a moment where it's only the two of us, away from everything and everyone. The thought of being alone with her, of escaping to somewhere quiet, makes the anticipation almost unbearable.
As we climb on, I laugh. “You know, the last time I arrived in Port Promise on a snowmobile, things didn't turn out so great.”
Eliza turns to me, eyebrow raised. “Wait a minute. You met me and fell in love. How is that not going well?”
I laugh, pulling her close. “You're right, as always. Best thing that ever happened to me.”
As we glide through the snowy landscape, the world is hushed and beautiful under its white covering. “We'd normally take the ATV,” she yells over the engine, “but the wooden path to our place won't be put in until summer. We'll take a shortcut through the woods on this.”
The thrill of the ride mixes with the excitement building inside me. As we approach Serenity Cove, my heart races withanticipation. Rounding a bend, I see it—our house, nestled among snow-covered trees, like something out of a winter fairytale. A rush of emotion hits me, and without thinking, I pull her closer, imagining what this place will hold for us. Laughter by the fire, quiet mornings with coffee, the life we're going to build here. It's more than a house—it's the beginning of everything.
“It's perfect,” I say, taking in the wraparound porch, the large windows reflecting the moonlight off the snow.
Eliza parks the snowmobile and pulls me toward the front door, fishing a key out of her pocket. “I've been dying to show you this.”
She unlocks the door and starts to push it open, but I catch her hand, stopping her. “Wait,” I say. “I think this calls for a tradition.”
Before she can ask what I mean, I scoop her up in my arms. Eliza laughs, the sound ringing out like music in the crisp air and throws her arms around my neck as I carry her through the already open door, careful not to slip on the snowy porch.
Inside, the house is mostly empty, waiting for us to fill it with our life together. The walls are bare, the floors gleaming, and the air carries that new, clean smell of fresh paint and possibility. Even in its unfinished state, with only a few boxes scattered around, it already feels like home. There's a welcoming energy in the space, as if it's been waiting for us to make it ours.
I set her down, keeping my arms around her. Eliza's eyes shine in the moonlight streaming through the windows. “It wasn't easy,” she says. “But seeing your face now made it all worth it. Welcome home, Matt.”
As I lean in to kiss her, surrounded by the walls of our future home, the winter landscape visible through the windows, I'm filled with an overwhelming sense of belonging. This iswhere I'm meant to be. With Eliza, with the Hollisters, in this beautiful, wild place they call home.
