Chapter 3
The roar of the snowmobile tore through the morning silence.
I sat on the bench at the observation deck, the post-snow sunlight stinging my eyes.
The engine sound grew closer. I knew it was him. My heart started racing uncontrollably, palms sweating. How should I face him? Pretend nothing happened last night? Or confront him about it directly?
The snowmobile stopped in front of me. Zephyr removed his helmet.
"Too cold out here. Let's go back." His voice was all business, completely devoid of warmth. "Investors are coming for an inspection today."
I stood up, snow falling from my clothes. "About last night..."
"I drank too much. Don't remember anything." He cut me off, his tone cold as ice. "Let's focus on work."
Of course. He chose to pretend nothing happened.
I bit down hard, trying to keep my expression calm. "Alright."
He handed me a helmet. We maintained a safe distance between us, as if last night's embraces and whispers were just some ridiculous dream I'd had.
On the ride back, I held tight to his waist, feeling the tension in his back muscles. He drove fast. Wind howled around us, neither of us speaking, the atmosphere suffocating in its awkwardness.
Back at the main lodge, Zephyr immediately switched into work mode.
He set up a temporary office area in the corner of the living room - laptop, files, phone, everything arranged perfectly. Flames danced in the fireplace, but as he sat there handling business, he radiated a chill colder than the outdoors.
I tried to act normal, going to the kitchen to prepare breakfast.
When I returned to the living room, I found a steaming cup of coffee already waiting on the coffee table. I paused - next to the cup was my favorite cinnamon powder.
"When did you..." I looked at him questioningly.
"Just made it while I was up." He didn't look up, continuing to type on his keyboard.
He remembered how I liked my coffee, remembered I liked adding cinnamon powder.
I stole glances at him, my heartbeat starting to race again.
What was he thinking? These details... were they really unintentional?
But whenever I tried to make eye contact, he skillfully avoided it - either burying himself in paperwork or taking calls, as if deliberately keeping his distance.
That afternoon, I walked to his temporary office with documents that needed Zephyr's signature. I cleared my throat to get his attention
"Come in." His voice remained cold.
The moment I pushed open the door, my steps froze.
Spread across his desk was a thick journal with scattered photos beside it. I could clearly see the familiar handwriting on the cover: Celeste - Rescue Training Journal.
Blood rushed to my brain.
It was Celeste's journal. Rescue skill training records, along with her concerns about the safety of the town's children, every page filled with dense writing. The photos showed her in rescue gear, her smile painfully bright.
"You still keep her journal?" My voice trembled. "After three years, you still can't forget her?"
Zephyr looked up, something flashing in his eyes before being quickly covered by indifference. "Can't forget? You think you know me so well?"
"Then tell me!" I placed the documents on the table. "Why do you keep these? Why, after last night... after what you did to me last night, do you pretend this morning that nothing happened? You're still pining for her!"
He laughed coldly, standing up. "What about you and Ridge? Three years and you're still waiting for him to come back!"
"What? I'm not..."
"Every time his name comes up, your expression changes." His voice grew colder. "Stop pretending, Avalon. You think I can't see it? You think I don't know why you really came back here?"
"I came back for work! For..."
"For what?" He stepped closer, the fury in his eyes making me back away. "To wait for Ridge to come find you?"
"I haven't!" My voice was completely out of control. "I never thought about him! It's you who made me..."
I wanted to tell him that the person I loved, the person I thought about, was him! He was the one who made me want to live again.
Then he smiled, that sarcastic, ice-cold smile. "Made you what? Made you remember what?"
I felt like I was about to collapse. Anger, hurt, confusion - all emotions mixing together until I couldn't think straight. I wanted to escape this room, escape his scrutiny.
I reached for the documents, but in our argument they scattered to the floor, and that rescue journal fell as well.
Zephyr bent down to pick them up, and I crouched down to gather the papers, wanting to get out of here quickly. But just then, a note slipped from the journal, floating down between us.
We both saw the handwriting at the same time.
It was Celeste's handwriting, I recognized her rounded script:
"Zephyr, you should tell her the truth. She deserves to know someone truly loves her."
Time stopped.
Zephyr and I both froze in place, staring at that slip of paper, neither of us moving. I could hear my own heartbeat like drums pounding in my ears.
"This..." My voice was as weak as a whisper. "What does this mean?"
Zephyr's face went pale. He reached to take the paper away.
