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JOSIE

The windshield wipers are struggling to keep up with the snow, which seems to be falling more and more heavily the farther I drive into the Cascade Mountains. Christmas music is playing on the radio, but I couldn’t tell you the song. All of my attention is focused on the slippery, snow-covered road ahead.

To my left, a car has spun off the road. It’s perched in a snowdrift with its flashers on. The person inside is on their phone, so I know they’ll get help. I bite my lip and gently ease off the gas a little more. The snowdrifts seem to be blowing into the road.

“Stupid, stupid.” I shove at the tulle in my lap, trying to keep it from bunching up to my chest. I shiver even though the heater is on full-blast. I’m not exactly dressed for the storm. My slick heels slip on the gas pedal, making my car rev and skid a little on the ice. My shoulders curl and my grip tightens on the wheel, the enormous diamond ring on my left hand biting into my finger.

“Couldn’t have bolted in the spring, could I? Idiot.” The tulle is spilling over into the passenger seat and crawling up the driver’s side window, burying me in my shame. My phone buzzes in its holder on the dash and I glance at it. It’s Preston. Again. I decline his call for the hundredth time and suck in a long breath.

“Not now. Not in this.”

I’ll have to answer him eventually. I’ve been declining his calls since I left Seattle. Well, “left” is a generous word. “Ran away from the church” is more accurate. God, why was I so stupid? Why am I still being so stupid? I should find a place to turn around, go back down, find a place to stay for the night, deal with all of this in the morning instead of risking my life on this damn mountain.

Of course, I don’t do that. I can’t. Adrenaline is spiking my blood and every cell in my body is telling me to get as far away as I can, as fast as humanly possible. I wipe a hand over my face, taking at least $75 worth of wedding makeup off with that single gesture. All that money, wasted. A hard pit settles in my stomach as I think about the thousands and thousands of dollars that went into the food, the ceremony, the parties, and this stupid, stupid dress.

I can’t stop thinking about the shocked faces that I passed when I ran back up the aisle. Nobody was expecting it. I wasn’t even expecting it. If I’d known that it would get that bad that fast inside my own head, I would have cancelled the whole thing. Maybe I would have cancelled the whole thing. I don’t know. I wasn’t brave enough to cancel. I wasn’t brave enough to go through with it. I just ran like an animal from a trap, no thoughts found.

There’s a flat, dryish patch of road and I use the moment to hit the speech-to-text button under my conversation with Preston. As I do, I catch just a glimpse of the screen. Josie this, Josie that… he always overuses my name when he’s upset at me about something. Granted, I’ve given him plenty to be upset about today. I bite my lip, then take a breath and do what needs to be done.

“I’m sorry, Preston. I just can’t—” My wheels slip. “Shit!”

I mash “send” without finishing my thought. It’s gone from my head anyway, replaced with thoughts of survival. It was stupid to come this way, but I hadn’t been thinking. After running back up the aisle, past my parents, my sister, my brother-in-law, my niece, and everybody else in church, I just got into my car and left without a word to any of them.

My car wasn’t even supposed to be there. I was supposed to arrive at the church in a limo. It was the one thing that Preston was in charge of setting up. I didn’t even find out until this morning that he’d failed to get the limo in the first place. That should have been my sign. I should have left then, in comfortable clothes and sensible shoes.

My head is full of “shoulds” and “coulds.” I should have gone back to my own apartment. It’s still technically mine, even though I was supposed to give it up after we got back from Aruba. Most of my stuff is already at Preston’s, there’s just the furniture left. I wonder if he even made the call to the moving company we were supposed to use to move the rest of my things to his condo. Probably not. Bitterness creeps up the back of my throat.

I could have gone back to Preston’s place, although that would have meant facing him long before I was ready to. I don’t know if I’ll ever be ready for that, and I feel like a weakling for it. I should have said something to him long ago. I should have said something to my parents about my feelings a long time ago, but I know how that would have gone. The thought of doing any of that makes me feel almost as claustrophobic as this damn dress does.

“Focus.” I’m stern with myself, but it doesn’t help. My mind is still racing and the snow is still flying. If I make it over the pass in one piece, it’ll be a miracle. I touch the locket around my neck that holds my grandma’s broken wedding ring and I draw strength from her memory. She would be proud of me today, I think, even if nobody else is. Even if I’m not. She was always the strong, independent kind, even if society wasn’t set up for that kind of woman in her time.

“Just get over the pass. Get over the pass, then I can keep going to… wherever. It doesn’t matter. I just need some damn space.” I push at the tulle again, dying to just rip it off. As I do, the car hits a patch of ice and I skid. I grit my teeth and ease off the gas, turning the wheel into the skid, but it doesn’t help. I’m spinning out and the snowbank is coming at me really, really fast.

The world spins around me in slow motion as I struggle to get the car under control without panicking.

The back of the car crashes into a snowbank, then the snowbank crashes over the back of my car. The panic wins and I slam on the brake, pull the emergency brake, and switch off the car. My heart is racing, my breath is shallow, my brain is pure static. Shit.

I take a deep breath. This is fine. I’m fine. It was just a little spinout, I’m not hurt—I think—this is fine. I just need to start the car and get back on the road. Okay. Here we go. I start the car and step on the gas very, very gently. The car revs, but doesn’t move. I give it a little more gas, then a little more, then I stomp hard on the pedal until my tires spin madly in the snow, going nowhere against the slick ice.

Shit!

I could die out here. I’m shaking, desperately trying to think. A tow truck won’t make it up this way, let alone make it back down, not in this weather. My trembling fingers touch my locket again as I pray to someone, anyone, for a miracle.

For just a moment, the snowfall eases off. It doesn’t stop, but it clears enough for me to see across the road. There, in the distance, is a structure. A cabin, maybe? Looking along the road, I see the narrow opening onto the lane leading to the place. It’s hard to tell exactly what it is through the snow, but as long as it has a roof and four walls, it’s a better bet than freezing to death in my car.

“That has to be my best shot.” Steeling myself for a brutal walk through the snow, I grab my suitcase—packed for Aruba, so I’m not sure how much good it’ll do me—and my tech bag with my laptop and camera in it.

My heels slip as soon as my feet touch the ice and I sit down hard on the driver’s seat, dropping my bags in the process. Cursing under my breath, I balance myself carefully and pick my bags up again. Aiming for the crunchy bits of snow, I pick my way across the street, praying that nobody drives through. I’m shivering so hard I nearly drop my bags several times, and my feet are so cold I stop feeling them before I’ve even made it to the narrow lane leading up to the cabin. My long dress is dragging, pulling snow against my legs and slowing me down even more.

Slipping, sliding, shivering, and cussing, I make it up the lane. It is, in fact, a cabin. A cozy-looking cabin, but not a tiny one. It doesn’t look abandoned. I’m not sure if that’s a good thing or a bad thing at the moment. Too cold to worry about it, I pound on the door.

Nobody answers.

“Come on, please.” I bang harder, as hard as I can with as much as I’m shivering. Snow is dripping down my bare legs and into my shoes, making my feet somehow colder than they already were. Still, no one answers.

Desperate and freezing, I try the door. To my immense surprise, it opens. I step inside carefully.