I keep driving. I keep going. We’ve been waiting so long for this, I refuse to fall at the last hurdle, no matter how bloody snowy the track is.
Ethan gives my thigh another reassuring squeeze—just letting me know he’s there.
He’s been so patient with me these last few months.
In February, when my mum had her stroke, it shook me to my core, and I couldn’t handle it. I didn’t handle it. Every emotion I felt, every stab of despair I had, I took out on him. I weaponised my grief. I lashed out, blaming the world for altering our lives yet again. And Ethan, the person I love most in the world, bore thebrunt of it. I guess he was the one person I could allow myself to fall apart around.
We were always a team, Mum and me; growing up, it was us against the world. Though sometimes, I admit, it was me against my sister Ginny, with poor Mum as the referee. But for the most part, we were best friends, and we still are. We still are. At the same time, the stroke changed her so much, and I can’t even explain how. Things are just different now. She’s different. And I guess I’ll have to accept that one of these days.
Still, sometimes, even now, I hate the whole world for permanently altering my second favourite human on this planet.
In June, when Ethan’s dad got diagnosed with cancer, I barely had the energy to spare for him and his side of the family. I wanted to be there for him as much as he needed me to be, but I know I wasn’t. I’ve barely kept my head above the water this whole time, and it’s only right now, when things have settled down again back home, that we’ve been able to get away from it all, away from them.
And get back to us.
I test my full-beams for a second and we’re blinded by a mass of whirling white. Yikes. I drop back down to my headlights again. “This weather is nuts!”
Ethan chuckles, but a hint of worry lingers in his expression. “At least it’s an adventure, right?”
“Yeah, an adventure.” I huff a laugh. “Exactly what I need while trying not to skid off the road.”
“Hey,” he says, using his soothing yet sexy ‘audiobook’ voice, “you’re doing great.”
“Thanks,” I grumble.
“We’ll get there. Promise.”
I know. I know we will. We’ll be fine in the end. We always are, it’s just—
“Oh, and Mia?”
I side-eye him. “Ethan?”
He grins. “You’re cute when you get all frowny like that.”
I shake my head at him, returning my gaze to the road. “I’m not frowny.”
He scoffs. “Yeah you are.”
Mum used to call it myface of thunder, though she often wore the same expression—and more frequently too. We still look alike, even as we grow apart in other ways. I have her hazel eyes and the same light brown hair, though mine falls down past my shoulders while she keeps hers short now as it’s less hassle. Everything is a hassle for her now. Even me.
Ginny and I were white-blonde as kids, like Mum in her old photos. We all lighten up in the summer, but those natural highlights fade by December. I can’t help worrying that soon any resemblance will be gone for good.
I glance at my phone.
Shit. The GPS has dropped again.
When the next road sign comes into view, I squint to read it, but the snow is coming down so heavy now I can barely make out the letters. Is that a capital ‘H’? I lean towards the windscreen, really trying to focus my gaze, but it’s no use.
We are so lost.
“Did you get it?” I ask, but Ethan shakes his head as we pass the sign. Dammit. I have no idea where I’m going. I’m on the wrong side of the road in this, quite frankly, ridiculous little car—okay, Ethanmightbe right about that—and now, to top it all off, despite downloading the maps before we left, my GPS is fucked.
I take a breath then count to five in my head before releasing it.
Okay. Gotta calm down. Gotta calm the fuck down.
I grab my phone from the holder. “Can you check Willow’s last email for me, please?” I hand it over. “I’m sure she had some directions on there for the last few miles at least.”
