“What?” Ethan asks.
Juniper heaves a sigh. “Power’s out.”
“Oh.” I grimace. “Guess that means no porridge for us.”
Ethan shakes his head. “Not unless you wanna eat it cold …”
“We could go out?” Juniper suggests, throwing a quick glance out the window to confirm that we are, in fact, still able to do so.
I shrug. “I’m up for it.”
This time it’s Ethan and Juniper’s turn to giggle.
“Okay, you two.” I shake my head, smiling.
“So?” Juniper faces me. “Wanna go for a little road trip?”
“Sure.” I shrug. “Why the fuck not?”
We layer up, bundling ourselves in coats and hats and gloves, then pile into our dinky little hire car. God, I hope it starts.
With only a small bout of encouragement, the engine murmurs to life, and I smile with relief. Despite all this snow, the silly little car I picked still has at least a little bit of get-up-and-go.
Juniper sits next to me up front, navigating sporadically—and much more haphazardly than my phone, even with its spotty GPS. Meanwhile, Ethan, bless him, is crammed in the backseat, silent, his knees practically up by his ears. But he can’t complain: the driver makes the rules, after all.
As we make our way down the mountain, the scenery whizzes by—a winter wonderland of glistening trees and untouched snow, begging to be turned into another stage for an epic snowball fight.
I relax, this time knowing, somewhat vaguely, where we’re going. More importantly, we don’t have a hecking great snowstorm to contend with.
Who knew all this beauty was here all along?
And yet …
As we coast around each bend, drawing closer to Holly Hill, it occurs to me that we left the cabin and this is the real world. We’re not in that little cosy living room anymore, sharing the fur rug and all our deep conversations and even deeper kisses …
We’re peeling out of the woods and into the open, and I’ve never done this before. I’ve been with Ethan, and only Ethan, for what feels like a lifetime, and now I’m what? Part of a trio? A triad? A … a … fuck. We still haven’t even worked out what we are.
My mind wanders as my body seems to take directions of its own accord. Then, without even realising, we’re somehow on a street, and there’re people, and shops, and I don’t know how to be in a three around people and shops …
“We’re here!” Juniper sings, directing me to park across fromSnowcap Café.
I pull into the space, and once again my muscle memory from years of being the number one driver takes over, allowing me to simultaneously park the car while continuing my small internal meltdown. Multitasking like a pro. Yay.
I stop the car, and we all file out.
Then Ethan takes my hand and leans in to say, “Would you look at this place.”
I manage to blink away my rising fears and attempt to take in the view. I breathe in then exhale a cloud of white, and when it clears, I feel better. I’m okay. We’re okay.
Ethan and I marvel at the landscape, which is absolutely picturesque from every single angle.
Then Juniper takes my other hand. “Come on.” She steers us towards the cafe. “We’ll get a seat by the window. Promise.”
I nod. I can do this. “Okay.”
String lights twinkle in the windows, confirming they still have power.
And we all walk in together, one behind the other, hand in hand in hand.
