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"Why Ashbourne?"

I look out the motel window. Snow drifts across the parking lot, catching in the corners where the plows missed. "My family used to spend Christmas in the Poconos every year."

"I remember."

"It was my favorite week of the year."

"I thought that was because you liked skiing." A ghost of dry humor slips into his voice. It’s the first hint of the Graham I actually know.

A faint smile touches my lips. "I hated skiing."

He lets out a quiet huff that almost sounds like a laugh. "You were always terrible at it."

"I was."

My smile fades. "It wasn't the skiing."

"What was it?"

I lean back against the headboard with the phone pressed hard enough to my ear that it aches. "It was the only place I ever remember feeling alive."

He doesn't interrupt.

"No one cared what grades I got. No one asked where I was applying to college or what internships I wanted. I wasn't introducing myself to people who already knew exactly who they expected me to become."

I swallow hard. "I just got to be Astra."

The words hang between us, filling the silence he leaves for them.

Finally, he speaks, quiet and pleading. "You can do that with me."

"I know you believe that."

"It's true."

"I know."

"No, you don't." His frustration finally breaks through, sharper than anything else he’s said tonight. "You never had to be anyone but yourself with me."

"I wanted to believe that."

"Astra—"

"But somewhere along the way..." My voice trembles, and I press my knuckles against my mouth for a second before I can keep going. "I stopped knowing where everyone else's expectations ended, and mine began."

He goes quiet, quiet enough that I can hear him breathing.

"I wasn't just trying to be the daughter my parents wanted." I close my eyes. "I was trying to be the fiancée everyone expected. The future lawyer everyone talked about. The woman who never questioned the next step because there was always another one waiting."

"You make it sound like I did that to you,” he says, wounded now instead of angry.

"You didn't."

"Then who did?"

"I did.” The admission hurts more than I expected. "I kept saying yes because it was easier than asking myself what I wanted."

His breathing slows on the other end. "Were you that unhappy?"