I take a bite of my toast, holding it between my fingers as I prop the book open at the table. Their eyes burn my cheeks, but I avoid their gazes as I copy notes from the text into my notebook.
I take another bite.
âAre you okay?â Jake asks.
I flip the notebook over, continuing the sentence Iâm writing. âIâm fine.â
The wind howls outside, and the snow kicks up and taps at the windows. The animals have been tended to, but we wonât be doing much else outside today. Itâs below zero.
Not that Iâve been helping much lately anyway, and I donât really care what Jake has to say about it. I dare him to pick a fight.
âYouâre fine,â Noah repeats. âYouâve said that every day for the past week. And yet, youâll barely talk to us.â
Guilt pricks at me, and I forget what Iâm writing. It takes a moment to remember the word I was jotting down and continue.
Noah doesnât deserve my silent treatment. Neither does Jake, really.
It just hurts. I donât know what hurts exactly or why it hurts, but Iâm angry, and I canât pretend Iâm not. Jake followed Kaleb that night, and I went directly to the shower that was still left running, sitting in there for a half hour before my shivers and tears subsided.
When he came back, though, he came back alone, and I havenât cried since. We havenât seen Kaleb.
âIâm sorry he did that to your piece,â Jake tells me, holding his cup of coffee.
But I just shrug. âIt doesnât matter. Itâs not like I was taking it with me in April anyway.â
âApril?â Noah blurts out, and I hear him shift in his chair. âCollege doesnât start until August.â
âIâll be finished with my course work soon,â I tell them, not looking up. âAs soon as the roads are clear, Iâm going home.â
Iâm eighteen, Iâm financially independent, and I donât belong here. Why would I stay?
I feel Jake lean in, tense. âThis is your home.â
My eyes burn, and I flex my jaw to keep my emotions from betraying that I kind of like hearing that.
âWe love you,â he adds.
But I just snicker. âSo what did you think?â I ask, still writing. âIâd bed-hop every night for the rest of my life, as if we werenât all completely insane? I was never going to stay.â
What did he expect to happen? Iâd marry one of them? Live in the boonies and have all their babies?
Or maybe weâd just go back to being a family. Uncle, cousins, niece? Iâd bring my husband here someday to meet them, the poor guy never knowing Iâd screwed everyone in this house?
How did Jake think this was going to end?
âWe wouldâve backed off,â he says. âKaleb is in love with you.â
âKalebâ¦â I breathe out a laugh. âIs an animal. Iâd be surprised if he remembered the color of my eyes right now. Like any girl, I only matter as much as his next piece of ass. Thatâs what Iâm good for to him.â
I finish writing my sentence.
âHe wasnât right.â Jake watches me as Noah sits quietly across from me. âAnd he communicates by losing his temper. He was wrong, yes, but he was hurt. The only woman he ever loved forgot about him. Almost killed him.â He pauses. âHeâs in love with you, Tiernan. He was jealous.â
Tears spring up, a cry I wonât let out aching in my throat. I want to shake my head. I want to yell and tell them it doesnât matter. He canât treat people like that, and itâs his choice how he communicates. No one is stopping him from saying what he needs to say.
So, heâs jealous. So, his father and brother are in the way. He didnât have an issue sharing me the night of the fire. Am I supposed to read his mind whenever he suddenly changes it? Heâs not a human. Heâs a bear. His love feels like shit.
I straighten, slamming my book closed and picking up my stuff as I rise from the table. I walk around the kitchen, quickly pushing the thoughts from my head as I leave.
âTiernan,â Jake calls after me.
I stop, hesitating a moment before I turn my head.
Jake sits in his chair, looking at me. âWhen Kaleb stopped talking, I tried to use sign language with him,â he tells me. âI still remember some of it.â
And then he puts his palm to his chest and taps twice, imitating the gesture Kaleb made before he left last week.
âThisâ¦â he says, âmeans âmineâ.â
Steam drifts out of my mouth, clouding into the air. The peak lies ahead, the view so much the same as the first time I stood on this balcony back in August. But so different, too.
The chill has seeped through my white knit hat, and I hug myself with the brown plaid blanket Mirai sent me in the fall wrapped around me and a mug of cocoa in my hands.
My teeth chatter. The wind chill is well below zero.
And for a moment, I let my guard down and wonder. Where is he?
I stare out at the view, the snow-covered trees spread out all the way to the snow-capped peak, beautiful and desolate. Cold and lonely.
Thereâs only two directions he wouldâve gone. Deeper into the forest, to the fishing cabin. Or to town.
Kaleb hates town.
The frigid air stings my lips. Another minus twelve degrees and frostbite can happen in as few as fifteen minutes. My fingers soak up the warmth of the mug, but even now, the blood is running cold, making them hard to stretch.
I try to stay longer, to feel what he might be feeling out there, but itâs too cold. I love the snow, but when it gets to this temperature itâs not fun anymore. I turn around, the snow on my balcony crunching under my hard-soled slippers.
Sliding the glass door open, I kick off my shoes just inside and step into my bedroom, closing and locking the door behind me. The fire crackles to my right.
I walk over to my bed and pick up my pillow, smelling the case. It smells like Snuggle. I washed the sheets after Kaleb left, but his smell was still here somehow. Now, itâs gone.
Tossing the pillow down, I drop my blanket to the bed and pull off my hat, standing there for about three seconds before I just let my feet carry me. Drifting out of my room, I loiter in the hall, shuffling my feet for a moment before I disappear up Kalebâs stairs. Itâs only about three in the afternoon, and despite the tense talk at the breakfast table this morning, Jake and Noah are happily working in the shop, pulling together in Kalebâs absence. How are they not more worried? Iâm pissed at him, but itâs winter. He could die out there. What if he didnât even make it to the cabin?
Turning the knob, I swing open his bedroom door, the room dark except for the light coming from the window, and step inside.
I close my eyes, inhaling his scent. The world spins behind my lids, and I feel dizzy. Why canât Noahâs smell do this to me? Heâd be so happy to have me in his arms tonight. Heâs been good about not being obvious, but I know he wants to hold me. He wants me to look at him.
Walking farther into the room, I step over to the bed and pick up one of Kalebâs pillows, his sheets rumpled and his blanket half hanging onto the floor. I press the pillow to my nose, the icy coolness of his pillowcase making me shiver before I can breathe him in.
I draw it in, not smelling anything at first, but then itâs there. Still there. The trees and thistles, wood and leather. And something else. Something you only get when youâre buried in his neck. Heat swirls low in my belly, and I sit down on the bed, weak.
Itâs cold in here. Dark and dusty. The fireplace is black from years of ash, and even though he didnât take anything that I would notice, it feels abandoned.
Walking over to the far wall, I stand at the picture window and stare into the woods, the snowy landscape beautiful and peaceful.
Iâm still angry.
And if he walked through the door right now and wanted to make amends, Iâd probably roll over and lap up any scraps he wanted to offer. He would win.
Heâs winning right now. Itâs been a week, and Iâm right back where I was when I first came here. Making myself unhappy, becauseâ¦
Because Iâm only worth anything if someone wants to love me.
Just like with them.
The tears that have been perpetually burning at the backs of my eyes for the last week dry, and I draw in a long, deep breath, releasing everything and the weight on my shoulders along with it.
Iâm bigger than this. I want to live.
Spinning around, I leave the room and close the door, taking one last look at his space before I do.
Then, I head downstairs and into the shop, turning the music the guys are listening to up as I get started on the armoire.
Noah smiles at me, I pull on my goggles, and we all get to work.