Chapter 2
The embers from last night's fire still glowed faintly in the fireplace, and I was the only one in the vast living room.
I stood in front of the fireplace, holding a cup of coffee that had long gone cold, my eyes fixed on that photograph. In the picture, Celeste was smiling brilliantly, while I stood beside her, also smiling.
We used to be best friends. She died for my brother, yet now I'm married to the man she loved.
Everything from last night flooded back—Zephyr's passionate kiss when he was drunk, his whispered "Celeste," and his ice-cold expression after he sobered up. I squeezed my eyes shut, trying to forget that humiliating feeling, but the more I tried, the clearer those images became.
I looked up at Celeste's face in the photograph. She possessed a beauty I could never have—that kind of inner radiance, pure and warm. No wonder all men loved her, including my husband.
"You know what?" I said softly to the photograph, "I fell in love with him."
My snow boots crunched on the thick snow as I walked, the mountain path somewhat steep, but I was used to it. I'd walked this trail to the observation deck countless times; I could do it with my eyes closed.
The cold wind cut across my face like knives, and I zipped up my down jacket tighter. The higher I climbed, the thicker yesterday's snow became. Everything was pure white—beautiful enough to take your breath away, and painful enough to do the same.
Twenty minutes later, I finally reached the observation deck. This was the highest point of the resort, overlooking the entire ski slopes, with the mountain where the avalanche happened three years ago visible in the distance.
I walked to the railing, unable to stop myself from remembering that winter three years ago—the winter when everything ended.
Three years ago, the third day after the avalanche.
I stood outside the funeral home, watching people in black clothes filing out. Celeste's funeral was over, but my nightmare was just beginning.
Ridge approached me, his eyes red and swollen, looking haggard like an old man. "Avalon, I..." his voice was so hoarse it was barely audible.
Ridge was my ex-boyfriend, Celeste's brother.
"What is it?" I asked, though I already had a bad feeling.
He bit his lip, tears starting to fall again. "I'm sorry, I can't do it... Every time I see you, I'm reminded of her death. I have to leave here."
"Ridge, the ski resort still needs you, I still need..."
"No." He shook his head, "I can't save the ski resort, and I can't save you. It's all over, Avalon."
I knew he was right. Everything was over.
The next day, Ridge disappeared, as if he had never existed.
But Ridge's departure was only the beginning of the nightmare. Without his help, the ski resort quickly faced bankruptcy.
The insurance company refused to pay, claiming we had violated safety regulations. Creditors came knocking every day, employees quit one by one, and the media portrayed us as greedy businesspeople who disregarded guest safety.
And I—I was blamed by everyone. If I hadn't insisted on developing that new slope, Celeste wouldn't have died. If it weren't for my greed, none of this would have happened.
Two months later, on that night, I stood on this very observation deck.
Holding a full bottle of sleeping pills in my hand.
I remember that night was particularly quiet—so quiet I could hear my own heartbeat.
"Maybe death is the only escape," I said to the moon, "Everyone has lost what they treasured most because of me."
I unscrewed the pill bottle cap and poured the pills into my palm. The white pills looked as harmless as candy in the moonlight. If I swallowed them all, all the pain would end.
Just as I was about to bring the pills to my mouth, I heard footsteps behind me.
"You can die if you want, but not here. This is Celeste's favorite place."
That voice was eerily calm. I turned around and saw Zephyr standing ten steps away from me. In the moonlight, his facial features looked especially defined, those deep blue eyes gazing at me peacefully.
"You... how are you here?" I asked through my tears.
He didn't answer, but slowly approached, extending his hand. "Give me the pills."
"Why?" I stepped back, "Why do you care about my business?"
"Because you won't fall in love with me, and I won't fall in love with you," his words hit me like hail, "This is a perfect arrangement—no one gets hurt."
I didn't understand what he was saying. "What do you mean?"
"Marry me," he said simply, "I'll help you rebuild the ski resort and pay off all the debts. In return, you give me a legal marriage. We each get what we need."
I stared at him, thinking I'd misheard. "Are you crazy?"
"There's no more rational choice than this," he stepped closer, reaching out to snatch the pill bottle from my hand, "You want to die because you feel you have nothing left. I can give you a chance to start over."
"Why?" Tears streamed down my face, "Why do you want to save me? Why help me?"
He paused for a moment, and for an instant I thought I saw some complex emotion flash in his eyes, but it quickly returned to coldness.
"Because I need a wife, and you need a lifeline."
I looked at him, and desperation made me grasp this last hope. "Fine... let's do it then. I have nothing left to lose anyway."
Back in reality, I gently touched the observation deck railing. My fingers found a tiny scratch—left there three years ago when my engagement ring scraped against the metal as Zephyr grabbed my wrist.
"He said I wouldn't fall in love with him..." I said bitterly to the air, "but he was wrong."
The snow was falling harder now, almost obscuring my vision. I closed my eyes, feeling the snowflakes melt on my face with their icy touch.
"But he said he wouldn't fall in love with me, and he's certainly kept that promise."
