by Kate L. Mary
No matter how many excuses I tried to come up with, the truth became more apparent as the weeks passed. I was attracted to Trevor, and even if a hundred other people were around I would feel the same way. What was more, it didn’t take long for me to realize what my major hang up was. I was certain that my feelings for Trevor were in some way a betrayal to Nathaniel.
My husband had been dead for more than a year, and yet I found that I still couldn’t let him go, had yet been able to remove my wedding rings. Nathaniel’s memory was as clear to me now as it had been the day after I’d learned of his death, and the idea of moving on filled me with terror. Would giving in to my feelings for Trevor erase Nathaniel from my memory completely? The thought made me crave alcohol more than anything else that had happened so far, but it also made me more determined than ever to ignore my feelings for Trevor. When spring came we’d head out and find more people and I would be able to put some space between us. I only had to hold on until spring.
The new year began with a burst of fresh snow, trapping Trevor and me in the house for more than a week as more than two feet fell on Lake Placid. I held onto my resolve as firmly as I clung to my sobriety, all the while curling up with the object of my uncertainty every night before going to sleep. Like me Trevor seemed to be weighing the possibilities of our relationship more and more with each passing day, and I didn’t miss how he held me longer each morning after waking up or the way he watched me as I crossed the room. I knew that eventually something would have to change, either I would have to give in to this desire or put more distance between us, and I prayed that I would find the strength to hold out until the snow began to melt and we would be able to venture further away from the house. After being trapped in a house together for so long with nothing else to occupy our time, I now felt as if I knew him better than I’d ever known anyone. Nathaniel included.
Chapter 10
Too many times upon waking up in the morning I had found myself snuggling closer to Trevor, and weeks had gone by since I’d first acknowledged to myself that the urge had nothing to do with the cold. This morning was no different, and I was still half asleep when I shifted closer to him, wiggling my butt without thinking. Behind me, he let out a groan, and I knew it had everything to do with the stiffness pressed against my backside.
My heart beat a little faster and I froze. This wasn’t the first time I’d awakened to such a greeting, but it was the first time it had happened since I’d admitted the true nature of my attraction to Trevor, and having the proof that he wanted me as much as I wanted him pressed up against my ass made it difficult to force myself to move or even say anything.
His breath brushed against my neck when he exhaled, but just like me he said nothing. Unlike me, however, he didn’t hold still. He moved his hips, gyrating them against me so his hardness rubbed more insistently. Heat pooled between my legs and it took everything in my power not to react, not to turn to face him and allow him to undress me while we kissed just as he’d done on that first night together.
He swallowed and whispered, “Jade.”
The sound of my name had never been as erotic as it was at that moment. I squeezed my eyes shut and clenched every muscle in my body in an attempt to control myself, but that only managed to intensify the need that had settled between my thighs. I throbbed with desire. I’d read that description in countless romance novels, but until this moment I’d never actually understood it. Mainly because I’d never held back this much when I’d wanted a man. As my drinking problem had proven, I didn’t have much self-control. Something I was currently trying to change.
Trevor didn’t stop moving against me, and with each second that passed I found it more and more difficult to hold back. His hands moved down my sides to my hips, and then he was pulling me against him while bending me forward a little, giving him a better angle as he moved his hips. With him grinding against me like this, I couldn’t help feeling like a teenager all over again. But the pleasure it sent quivering through my body made it impossible to talk, impossible to tell him to stop, especially when I didn’t want him to.
“Jade,” he said again, the word coming out ragged this time. Begging. “What do you want?”
You.
That was what I wanted to say, what my body was begging me to say, but I was unable to utter a sound. Instead, I twisted from his grasp and turned to face him. His mouth found mine, and he dove in, his tongue hot and needy against mine. Once again his hand was on my hips, but this time it didn’t stay there. He moved it down, over my ass and thigh so he could pull my leg up, hitching it around his. Then he went back to moving his hips, and this time I followed his lead, grinding my body against his, kissing him, running my hands up under his shirt so I could explore his chest.
He rolled me over so I was on my back, his body between my legs. We kissed, fondled, and explored one another. His hands were under my shirt, groping my breasts. His fingers tweaked my nipples and I whimpered against his lips. The whole time he continued to move, grinding his body into mine, meeting the desperate thrusts of my hips. I could feel the pleasure building, and even though I told myself to stop this, that this moment would change everything, I couldn’t bring myself to do it. Not when I was so close, not when I wanted him so much.
When my orgasm hit I cried out. Tremors moved through me, down my legs until my toes curled, up my torso until I found myself digging my nails into Trevor’s back. Wave after wave swept over me as he continued to move, continued to tease my nipples and kiss my neck and face, increasing the need that burned inside me. Making me want him more and more. Making me want more of him.
I expected him to try and remove my clothes after that, but instead he rolled over so he was on his back at my side. He was breathing hard, and there was no way he was ready for this to end when he had not reached his own release, but he didn’t try to take the next step.
“What are you doing?” I asked, still gasping for breath.
Trevor didn’t look away from the ceiling. “I know you aren’t sure what you want and I don’t want you to do anything you’ll regret.” His eyes flitted my way for a second, down to the rings still on my finger, before going back to the ceiling. “I should have controlled myself better.”
“Trevor, I—” The words died on my lips because he was right. He’d done an amazing job of holding back even though he had clearly wanted me as much as I wanted him, but he was right. I wasn’t sure I was ready to move on.
“It’s okay,” he said when I couldn’t get anything else out. Trevor rolled onto his side to face me, his eyes holding mine. “It’s okay, Jade. I promise. Whatever is going on between us doesn’t need to be rushed. We have time. So much time.”
He ran his fingers down the side of my face, tucking my hair behind my ear, and I leaned into his hand. I’d gotten so comfortable around him. So used to his touch and his nearness, and yet there was still something holding me back. It was Nathaniel and we both knew it, and even though it made no sense after everything that had happened and how much time had passed, I couldn’t force it away. Even if I wanted to, which I wasn’t sure I did. Nathaniel was my husband. I still wore my rings, still held him in my heart. That would never change.
“I’m trying,” I said instead of explaining, mostly because I knew Trevor didn’t need an explanation. He understood. If he hadn’t, he wouldn’t have stopped when he did.
“I know,” he replied. “And I’ll be here waiting when you’re ready.”
I was afraid that things would become awkward between us after that, but Trevor proved to be even more amazingly understanding than I’d thought he was. Our routine stayed the same, we still curled up together at night and still talked about anything and everything that came to mind, and not once did he try to make me feel guilty about what had happened.
January moved forward and outside the snow continued. It had to have been some kind of record for the area, but since everyone who had kept track of that kind of thing was gone it was impossible to kn
ow for sure. We had to be into February when I woke with a slight tickle in my throat that quickly turned into a painful ache. Even if I’d wanted to ignore it I wouldn’t have been able to, not with the fever and chills that quickly followed.
Just like he had during my alcohol withdrawal, Trevor stayed by my side and nursed me. He brought me water and broth to keep me strong, covered me when the shivers became too intense and rarely left my side. I was certain I had strep, my swollen glands and high fever were enough symptoms even without looking for white patches in my throat, and once again I had Trevor to thank for being prepared. Thanks to his weeks of planning and thinking ahead while I drowned myself in booze, we had the right kind of antibiotics, which meant that after a week I was on the road to recovery.
But I wasn’t well enough to go out looking for supplies with Trevor. I hated the idea of being left alone, though.
“I can go,” I said as I watched him walk around the room, gathering the bags he would need to carry supplies back. “I’m better.”
He didn’t look my way. “You are, but you’re still getting over being sick and it’s too cold.” He paused on his way by and his gaze swept over me. “I don’t want to risk you getting sick again.”
“I’m the doctor, remember? And that’s not how it works. The antibiotics killed the bacteria. The cold isn’t going to make it come back. I haven’t had a fever in five days.”
Trevor had already moved to the door and was pulling his coat on. “You’re not going. You’re still worn out from being sick and you need to rest. Get your energy back.”
That was something I couldn’t really argue with—I felt like I’d run a marathon a few days ago—but I tried anyway. “I’ll be on the snowmobile.”
Trevor finally stopped what he was doing and turned to face me. “I need you to stay. Understand?” It sounded like an order, but the worry in his eyes told me it was motivated by something else entirely.
My chest constricted while the fingers on my right hand moved to the rings on my left. It was something I’d found myself doing more and more lately, especially when Trevor looked at me like this. Twisting the rings as if considering taking them off. I hadn’t done it yet, but the thought seemed to constantly be there.
“Okay,” I finally whispered.
He visibly relaxed as he went back to what he had been doing. I watched as he slipped his feet into his boots, and then tied them. He zipped his jacket and wrapped himself in a scarf. He put his hat on next, and then his gloves, and I knew he would be walking out the door at any moment, and suddenly fear like I had never felt before gripped me. Then I was moving forward, practically running to him.
“Trevor,” I gasped out.
He turned, and without thinking it through first, I kissed him. It was a peck compared to the other times we’d kissed, but something about it felt twice as intimate, and I could tell by the look on his face that he felt it too.
“Be careful,” I said when I’d stepped back.
His gaze moved down to where I was still twisting my ring, and then back up to my face. “I will.”
He glanced at my hands one more time before turning away, and I didn’t move when he opened the door. Then he was gone and I was left alone, feeling cold and even worse, a sense of regret unlike any I had ever felt before.
Chapter 11
The house was so large that there were rooms we’d barely gone into. The guest rooms especially, because there wasn’t much in the closet or drawers that was useful in an apocalyptic scenario. We’d gotten the warm clothes out during the first cold week and Trevor had searched them for handy things like batteries and flashlights back when I was still out of it, but otherwise there hadn’t been much of a need to go through the boxes stacked up on the shelves in the closets.
But faced with the silence and nothing else to do, I found my way to the guestroom closet. Most of the boxes neatly stacked were labeled, and for the first time since taking refuge here, I found myself wondering about the people who had owned the house. The labels on the boxes said things like Pictures and Addison’s Room, and I opened them to find memorabilia of a time that now felt long gone.
I flipped through a couple photo albums that dated back to the 80’s before investigating a box full of old report cards. They were all from the 90’s and bore the name Addison Dixon, leading me to believe that the couple who’d owned this house must have once had a daughter. She wasn’t in any of the pictures hanging around the house, which made me wonder if they’d had a falling out. It was something I’d never know, but the mystery of it all made me delve deeper into the boxes.
When flipping through the pictures and old school papers grew old I pushed the box back and dug deeper into the closet, behind the dozens of bagged evening gowns that seemed to dominate the space. That’s when I found the box. I didn’t give it much thought when I pulled it out from behind the folds of fabric, but when the writing came into view, I froze. The print on the side of the box wasn’t in English, but I didn’t need to be able to read French to know what the contents were. I opened it anyway, and my mouth immediately filled with saliva at the sight of the twelve bottles of wine.
I felt like I was cursed. I’d been doing so well, but I was smart enough to realize that part of my success had to do with the fact that there was nothing around to tempt me. Trevor had been thorough, or at least we’d thought he had, and whenever we went out I made sure to steer clear of the alcohol. I had never imagined that there would still be wine hidden in this house.
My hands shook and I found myself frozen. I knew I’d have to tell Trevor as soon as he got back so he could get rid of it, but I also knew that every second that ticked by where I was alone in this house I’d be thinking about the wine. Craving it. Already it felt as if it was calling out to me, and I didn’t know how I’d get through however long it took for Trevor to get back.
I considered getting rid of it on my own, but I was terrified that if I opened a bottle I wouldn’t be to stop myself from taking a drink. I knew I’d be tempted to, and I wasn’t sure if I was strong enough. I could smash the bottles without opening them, but again I wasn’t sure if I’d be strong enough to do it. Not when I wanted a drink as badly as I did.
No, I needed to wait for Trevor. Needed to tell him about it the second he returned so he could get rid of the wine. One day when more time had passed I’d trust myself to do the right thing, but not now. Now I was still too weak.
I shoved the box back behind the dresses and hurried from the room on shaky legs, all the while telling myself that I could do it. Trevor would be back soon, a couple hours probably. I just had to hold out until then.
While I waited for him to return I busied myself by rearranging the food in the pantry. It was a pointless job, but with nothing else to distract me it was all I could do to keep myself in the kitchen and away from the wine. There was no clock in the house, but I imagined I could hear it ticking anyway as the seconds turned into minutes, and then into hours. Outside the sky grew pink before turning black and Trevor didn’t return. I threw more logs on the fire and opened a can of Spaghetti O’s when my stomach growled, but still he didn’t come back.
My mind never strayed long from the wine, but it began to revolve around other thoughts as well. Like how I would pop a bottle open and drink straight from the bottle if Trevor never returned. How those twelve bottles wouldn’t be enough if for some reason he didn’t come back and I found myself alone.
The thought terrified me, but even scarier was the knowledge that I would brave whatever was out there to get more alcohol once those bottles were gone. It was a fact I wouldn’t even begin to try and refute, because if he didn’t come back there would be no reason to try. Not anymore.
I slept closer to the fire than usual, curled up among the giant mound of blankets gathered in the living room, but I got little rest. Without Trevor’s body wrapped around me it was difficult to get warm, and then I had the added annoyance of a brain that refused to shut down.
; It was a fitful night that I thought would never end, but the sun did rise, and much faster and brighter than I had anticipated. Only there was no relief because Trevor still had not returned.
And all I could think about was the wine in the other bedroom.
I stayed were I was for hours, curled up by the fire and wrapped in blankets, too afraid of what would happen if I chose to embrace the day. Afraid that I would discover Trevor was gone for good. Afraid that the self-control I was desperately clinging to would wane and I’d pour myself a glass of wine. Afraid that everything outside this house had vanished while I slept.
That was my mindset when the front door burst open. It was so sudden that I let out a shriek even as I dove for the gun I kept at my side. It was up when I rolled to my side, clasped between my trembling hands and pointed toward the door where Trevor currently stood gasping.
“Jade.”
It was all he got out before he had collapsed to his knees. The door was still open behind him and fresh snow swooshed inside as I stumbled to my feet and hurried forward. I’d been so preoccupied with the worry swirling through my head and the thoughts of the wine still hidden in the back of the closet that I hadn’t even noticed that it was snowing. Now, however, I saw that it wasn’t just snowing. We were in the middle of what could only be described as a blizzard.
“Trevor. Are you okay? What’s wrong?”
I fell to the floor in front of where he had dropped to his knees, my gaze moving over him as sudden trembles shook my body thanks to the icy air flooding the house. I didn’t care. Not when he was in front of me and I had no idea where he had been or what he had been through, or if he was going to be okay.
He lifted his head and I let out a gasp. His eyebrows and eyelashes were coated in ice and his lips were nearly blue. His nose looked as if it were on the verge of frostbite, or maybe even just slightly past it. His clothes were covered in snow, cold and wet, and his entire body was racked in shivers.