10. Alex

10

ALEX

T he first thing Alex noticed was the quiet. Not the oppressive, heavy quiet of the storm but something gentler—a stillness that held the world in suspended animation as faint sunlight filtered through the cabin’s windows. For a moment, she lay still beneath the quilt, her breathing measured, her gaze tracing the way the light danced over the walls.

Next to her, Vivienne stirred, a subtle shift that drew Alex’s attention like a magnet. Her profile was relaxed, her dark hair spilling across the pillow in disarray. In sleep, Vivienne’s guarded expression softened, leaving her looking vulnerable .

She wasn’t used to waking up next to someone, and it unsettled her how right it felt.

Sliding carefully from the bed, Alex moved with practiced stealth, keenly aware of the groan of the old wooden floorboards beneath her weight. The morning chill bit at her skin, but she welcomed it. Pulling on her boots and jacket, she stepped outside to face the aftermath.

The world was transformed.

Snow lay thick and untouched, a pristine blanket that muted everything. The horizon stretched endlessly, the jagged peaks of the Rockies softened beneath layers of white. The storm clouds were breaking apart, fragments drifting lazily across an impossibly blue sky. Alex took a deep breath, the icy air burning her lungs in the best way.

She stared out at the landscape, her jaw tightening against the sudden rush of thoughts. How long could this last?

Her life had always been predictable in its simplicity: hard work, solitude, the occasional visitor who left as quickly as they came. Vivienne didn’t fit into that world, and Alex wasn’t sure she wanted her to. Wanting Vivienne meant wanting change, and change meant risking everything she’d spent years building.

The snow crunched beneath her boots as she walked toward the shed, where her tools and supplies were stored. Opening the door, she grabbed a hatchet and began splitting some firewood. Each strike of the blade into the wood was a release, the rhythmic motion grounding her as her thoughts threatened to spiral.

What if Vivienne went back to her refined world of fashion and regretted everything they’d shared? What if Alex was left behind, holding on to memories that were never meant to last?

The sharp crack of the splitting log echoed in the stillness, cutting through her growing unease. Alex leaned on the hatchet, her breath visible in the cold morning air. Maybe she was overthinking this. Maybe she should just let herself enjoy it while it lasted. Not everything had to last forever.

A flicker of movement in the cabin window caught her eye, and she turned to see Vivienne watching her. Even from a distance, she could feel the weight of Vivienne’s gaze, as if the cabin walls weren’t there at all.

Alex hesitated, caught in the strange pull between retreat and return. She buried her hands in her pockets, grounding herself in the rough wool of her gloves. One more breath. One more moment.

When she finally stepped back inside, Vivienne was sitting at the edge of the bed, the quilt draped loosely around her shoulders. Her expression was unreadable, though her lips curved slightly in a way that might have been a smile.

“Good morning,” Vivienne said, her voice soft and still touched with sleep.

“Morning.” Alex cleared her throat, brushing snow from her jacket before hanging it near the fire. “Storm’s eased up. Looks like we’ll have some sun today.”

Vivienne nodded, her gaze lingering on Alex for a moment longer before shifting to the fire. “That’s good. I wasn’t sure it ever would.”

Alex busied herself with rekindling the fire, but she could feel Vivienne’s presence in the room like a live wire. As the flames caught, fire crackling to life, she glanced over her shoulder.

“You okay?” Alex asked.

Vivienne’s eyes flicked to hers, something uncertain but warm in their depths. “I think so,” she said. Then, after a pause: “Thank you…for last night.”

Alex swallowed hard, the weight of Vivienne’s words pressing against her chest. “Yeah,” she said, her voice low. “Thank you too.”

Vivienne shifted on the bed, pulling the quilt tighter around her. “You know, it’s strange,” she said, her tone contemplative. “All my life, I’ve spent Christmases in these perfectly curated settings—decorated trees, lavish dinners, everything staged for the perfect photo. But it never felt like this.”

Alex turned, leaning against the hearth. “Like what?”

Vivienne met her gaze, her expression open, almost raw. “Real.”

Alex didn’t respond right away. The word hung between them, heavy with meaning. Finally, she nodded, her lips curving into a small, wry smile. “Yeah. I get that.”

For a fleeting moment, Alex let herself believe this quiet, sunlit morning could stretch on forever.

After their shared breakfast, Alex stood at the kitchen counter, sharpening her knife with slow, methodical strokes. The sound of metal gliding against the whetstone was oddly soothing, a rhythm that helped steady her thoughts. Beside her, Vivienne sat at the table, her hands wrapped around a steaming mug of tea.

The cabin was quieter now, the storm’s departure leaving behind a stillness that felt both serene and disquieting. Outside, the snow sparkled beneath the pale winter sun, its untouched surface so bright it almost hurt to look at.

Vivienne broke the silence first. “It’s strange, isn’t it? How quiet it gets after a storm like that.”

Alex nodded without looking up. “Yeah. Like the world’s holding its breath.”

Vivienne sipped her tea, her gaze drifting to the window. “I suppose I should feel relieved, knowing the worst is over.” She paused, her fingers tightening around the mug. “But I don’t.”

That made Alex glance up, her brow furrowing. “Why not?”

Vivienne hesitated, as if weighing how much of herself she was willing to reveal. “Because the storm made everything...simple. Survive or don’t. Now that it’s over, I have to think about what comes next.” She gave a rueful smile. “And I’m not sure I’m ready for that.”

Alex set down the knife, her hands resting on the counter. “You don’t have to figure it all out right now.”

The words came easily, but as soon as she said them, Alex felt the weight of their contradiction. She was no better at staying in the moment than Vivienne seemed to be. Even now, her mind churned with questions about the days ahead.

Shaking off the thoughts, Alex turned back to the counter and began slicing carrots for their next meal, using the knife she had just sharpened. “We’ll dig out the path today,” she said, her tone deliberately practical. “Check on the shed, see how much wood we’ve got left. After a storm like that, the drifts’ll be high. Won’t be easy, but it’ll give us something to do.”

Vivienne set her mug down and leaned forward, her elbows resting on the table. “You’ve done this before. Weathered storms like this on your own, I mean.”

Alex shrugged. “Comes with the territory. Winters up here can get rough. You learn to make do.”

Vivienne tilted her head, studying Alex with a mix of curiosity and admiration. “You make it sound so easy and matter-of-fact. Like it’s nothing.”

“It’s not nothing.” Alex’s voice was quiet but firm. “It’s just...life. You adapt or you don’t survive.”

For a moment, neither of them spoke. The fire crackled softly in the hearth, its warmth filling the space between them.

Then Alex straightened, brushing her hands on her jeans. “Come on. Let’s get started before the sun drops. Snow is easier to move when it’s not frozen solid.”

Vivienne followed Alex to the door, pulling on her borrowed coat, boots, and gloves. The cold hit them as soon as they stepped outside, sharp and invigorating. The air smelled clean, almost new, the kind of crispness that only came after a storm.

The snow was deep, just as Alex had predicted. They worked side by side, clearing the path with a pair of shovels Alex had unearthed from the shed. The effort was grueling, each scoop a reminder of how unrelenting nature could be, but there was something about it that Alex found cathartic too.

Vivienne paused to catch her breath, leaning on her shovel as she watched Alex work. “You’re good at this.”

Alex glanced up, brushing a strand of stray hair from her face. “At shoveling snow?”

Vivienne smiled. “At living out here. Surviving. Knowing what to do and how to do it.”

“You’d be surprised what you can learn how to do when you don’t have a choice.”

Vivienne’s smile faded, her gaze dropping to the snow. “I suppose that’s true.”

For the rest of the morning, they worked in relative silence, their breaths visible in the frigid air. When they finally finished clearing the path, Alex led the way to the shed. Inside, she checked the woodpile, nodding with approval at the supply they still had.

“We’ll be fine for a while,” Alex said. “But if the weather holds, we’ll need to make a run to town soon.”

Vivienne hesitated. “And if it doesn’t?”

Alex turned to her, her expression neutral. “Then we make do.”

As they made their way back to the cabin, the sun climbed higher in the sky, its light casting long shadows over the snow. Inside, the warmth of the fire greeted them like an old friend, the contrast to the cold outside almost startling.

Vivienne removed her coat and gloves, rubbing her hands together to chase away the chill. “I think I’ll miss this.”

Alex looked up at her, her brow furrowing. “Miss what?”

Vivienne gestured vaguely at the cabin, the fire, the snow outside. “All of this.”

Alex didn’t respond right away, instead mulling over her words carefully, knowing Vivienne wasn’t just talking about the surroundings so much as who she was surrounded by. When she finally spoke, her voice was low, almost hesitant. “You don’t have to leave yet.”

The words hung in the air, heavy with meaning.

After they finished morning and afternoon chores, they sat across from each other at the table, their plates of dinner mostly untouched. The fire flickered softly in the hearth, its warmth a sharp contrast to the growing unease in the room. The storm had fully cleared now, leaving behind a world that was quieter than Alex had expected, as though the chaos of the weather had muted everything else in its wake.

Alex watched Vivienne’s gaze drift between her food and the window, her expression distant and indecipherable. It was the same look she’d had earlier—that quiet searching, as though something was pulling at her from within, something Alex wasn’t fully privy to, a part of herself Vivienne kept concealed.

Alex couldn’t help but notice how it mirrored her own feelings—this nagging, restless hunger to figure out what came next.

“So,” Vivienne said, breaking the silence. Her voice was calm but heavy. “What happens now?”

Alex stiffened. “What do you mean?”

“I mean,” Vivienne’s tone was matter-of-fact, “the storm’s over, but we’re still stuck here. The world is waiting outside, and we’re inside, pretending it’s different.”

It was a fair point. Alex felt it too—the weight of the outside world pressing in, even if the storm had kept it at bay for a little while longer. But Vivienne didn’t understand. She couldn’t.

“You’re not the only one with a life to get back to,” Alex said, her words sharper than she meant. “This cabin, this isolation, it’s not my reality either.”

Vivienne’s brow furrowed. “What does that mean?”

Alex hesitated, her heart pounding a little harder. She hadn’t meant to reveal any more of herself than she absolutely had to. She could feel the panic starting to creep in—the same panic that had been clawing at her since the night they’d shared their first kiss, when everything had shifted so quickly. “It means...this isn’t real. Not for you. Not for me. We’re different. You don’t belong here, Vivienne.”

There it was. The truth that Alex had been holding back for days. The reality that had gnawed at her every time she looked at Vivienne.

Vivienne’s face paled. “I don’t belong here?” she echoed, her voice small and tight with disbelief. “And you do?”

Alex stood abruptly, the tension in her muscles telling her that she was ready to explode if she didn’t move. “I’m not pretending to be someone I’m not. You live in a world where everything’s easy, Vivienne. You come here, play at being some kind of rustic princess for a few days, and then you go back to your perfect life. But that’s not me.”

Vivienne stood, too, her chair scraping loudly across the wooden floor. “You think I don’t see that?” she spat, her voice rising in frustration. “You think I’m just here for some...vacation? You think I don’t understand that this is your reality, not mine?”

Her words stung more than Alex was willing to admit. She tried to quell the surge of anger rising in her chest, but it was too late. She couldn’t stop it from boiling over. “You don’t get it, Vivienne. You don’t get what it’s like to live with the world always watching, always expecting. I’ve spent my entire life hiding from people, protecting myself from everything that might remind me how different I am.”

Vivienne took a step closer, her eyes flashing with defiance. “And what about me? What about what I’ve been hiding? What about my life? You think the world isn’t always watching me, holding its breath waiting for me to fail?”

The words hung between them, heavy with accusation. Alex opened her mouth, but no sound came out. She didn’t have an answer for that. Not yet.

“I’m not pretending to be someone else,” Vivienne continued, her voice quieter now but no less intense. “I’m trying to figure out what I really want. And I’m trying to figure out if this”—she gestured between them—“is real.”

Alex felt a chill sweep through her. The walls she had so carefully built around herself were starting to crack, and she wasn’t sure if she was ready for that. She wasn’t sure if she could handle it.

“I don’t know if I can do this,” Alex said, her voice barely above a whisper. The confession felt like a weight she couldn’t carry anymore. “I don’t know if I can let someone in. Not like this.”

Vivienne recoiled, her expression pained as if the words punched her in the gut. “You’re scared, Alex. Scared of what this might mean, scared of what might happen if you let me stay.”

Alex opened her mouth to deny it, but she couldn’t. Because she was scared. Terrified, even.

“I don’t know what to do,” she whispered, her voice cracking. “I want to be with you, but I’m not sure I know how to be anyone else but who I’ve always been. And I’m afraid you’ll leave once you figure that out.”

Vivienne looked at her square in the eyes. “I’m not going anywhere, Alex.”

But Alex wasn’t sure she believed that. She wasn’t sure she could ever believe it.

The silence between them stretched on, thick and heavy. The fire crackled, but it did nothing to ease the tension that had settled between them.

Finally, Vivienne spoke again, her voice quieter now. “Maybe we’re both scared. But we won’t know anything unless we try.”

The words hung in the air, still unresolved, but for the first time, Alex didn’t feel like running from them. Maybe that was the beginning of something. Or maybe it was the end.

Either way, she knew one thing: things had changed. And now, she had to figure out what that really meant.