I trudge back to our bedroom to find that Ethan has fallen back asleep but is only gently snoring, which makes a nice change.
And Juniper … Juniper is smiling in her sleep, my husband’s broad arms wrapped around her like a Christmas bow.
Woah.
Their peaceful breathing is completely in sync as their chests rise and fall as one. And I think I’m okay with this. Am I okay with this?
I quietly gather the clothes I’ve slung across my suitcase then back out of the room, leaving them to sleep soundly, soaked in sunshine. I’m sure they’ll wake up soon enough.
I don my thermal leggings and my long-sleeved top and stand in the kitchen, feeling oh so sexy—not. Then I busy myself making coffee.
My stomach growls, and I place the kettle on the stove then bimble around tidying the living room while I wait for the whistle.
The candles have melted down to their wicks. God, we could have so easily burned the whole bloody place down last night. We were so careless! I smile. Oops.
I gather up the wine/shot mugs—yikes—and take them back to the kitchen with me, along with the two bottles.
Wait.
I giggle to myself, rushing back then shoving on my coat and snow boots. I pull open the door and the cool breeze blasts me with the freshest woodland air. Oh my god. I hungrily breathe it all in, restoring my body with every new breath, the cool wind on my face like a tonic.
I step out onto the balcony and make fresh prints in the snow as I traverse the top deck then settle at the wooden railings, looking out over it all.
The snow has stopped, and the endless blue sky tops miles of winter firs.
I could live here. Seriously, I could. I never want to leave.
I carefully troop down the steps, holding the handrail for dear life as I slip on a patch of ice three steps down. Jesus. I mean, if I’m going to go out with a bang, I’ll be glad it’s here, but still …
I make it the rest of the way, and there it is, safely nestled in the steadily melting snow. The white wine. I snatch it up, laughing as it doesn’t slosh or slop around in there but is instead completely frozen solid. I carry the bottle back up by its neck then retreat once more to the kitchen, where I do the washing up and place it in the empty sink to thaw.
I make myself a coffee and debate making one for Ethan and Juniper, but … I mean, if they’re not awake by now … who’s to say they won’t sleep a while longer?
I tip-toe back to our bedroom, ease open the door, and am met with the sight of two people definitely not sleeping. Ethan and Juniper are wide awake, smiling, and chatting, as if it’s their honeymoon and they’re the happy couple who have just risen from a perfect nine-hour sleep.
“Hey,” Juniper croaks, her voice all rusty and raspy.
“Hey.” I give a little wave then immediately regret the cringey gesture.
But Juniper beams at me, and maybe being a bit cringey is fine.
“Have you been outside?” Ethan asks, seemingly not at all phased to have woken up next to someone who isn’t his wife.
“Um … yeah,” I reply. “Got the white wine!” I chuckle, and he slaps a hand to his forehead.
“Can’t believe we forgot the snow wine!” His laugh bounces around the room.
“I think we can still drink it once it’s defrosted?” Juniper shrugs, a hopeful expression on her face.
“Well, it’ll definitely be chilled,” I say, somewhat frostily.
Ethan looks up at me. “Are you okay?”
“I’m fine.” I paste on a smile. “Just hungover.”
Ethan eyes me but lets it go. “What do you wanna do today?” he asks as Juniper stretches upwards, releasing a wide yawn.
I hover in the doorway, clutching my coffee, as if I’m the one intruding. “I think we might need a reset day today.” I hold up my mug and both of them stare at it, eyes wide. I laugh. “Coffee?”
