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“I promise you it will never happen again. It was just a distraction,” I say. Even to my own ears, the excuse sounds so flimsy. I feel terrible for going in the first place.
“It’s fine,” she says dismissively.
“Are you sure?” I ask, looking at her cautiously. Her voice betrays nothing.
“I’ve written enough reverse harem books to know that sometimes the characters have a weak moment. It’s called the dark night of the soul. This was yours. The happy ending comes afterward. I’d be a hypocrite if I didn’t forgive you.”
The mechanical way she explains it doesn’t sit right with me. But I guess this is how a writer thinks.
“Are you sure you’re okay?” I ask.
She nods. “I’m just happy you were honest with me about this. That means a lot.”
I want to tell her I love her, that my realization of it was what made me stop. But this is not how I want to tell her. I don’t want this moment to be marred by a cloud of misunderstanding or excuses. I’ll tell her at a better time.
I lean in to kiss her. Susan kisses me back, pulling me into bed. “Stay?” she says.
I nod, shedding my jacket as I get in bed with her and Artie, who’s still sleeping peacefully. We don’t fuck, just stay in each other’s arms for the rest of the night.
* * *
I wakeup and peer through the window, greeted by a sight that brings a small smile to my face. The world outside is adorned in a delicate layer of snow, like a sprinkling of powdered sugar on a winter cake. It’s not a full-blown snowstorm, but enough to create a serene and magical atmosphere.
I nudge Susan awake and point toward the window. She smiles, but it doesn’t quite reach her eyes. My heart skips a beat. Am I being paranoid? Or is she still upset about yesterday? I don’t want to bring it up and possibly ruin things.
We go downstairs for breakfast where my brothers are waiting for us.
“Susan,” Artie says. “Your car was delivered.” He points out the window.
“Oh,” Susan says.
“It’s a rental, right? You should have it returned,” Ed says. “Do you want any of us to go out to the city to do that?”
“Hmmm,” Susan answers distractedly. “I’ll go check it out.”
“Change your shoes before you go,” I say. “It snowed a bit.”
“I’ll be just a couple minutes,” Susan says. Before I can say anything, she’s already out the door.
She comes back a few minutes later just as I pick up a piece of toast with jam. Susan is biting her lip. “My editor just emailed me back but I can’t access it.” Her gaze falls to the laptop on the coffee table.
“Can I use that?” she says, pointing at the machine.
“Sure,” Artie says after a moment of hesitation. Susan picks it up and carries it to the dining table. I can see how nervous she is. She keeps biting her lip.
“I’m sure the feedback is great,” I assure her.
“I won’t know till I actually read it,” she says, frowning at the screen. “The Conservatory project? What’s that?”
Artie gulps hard.
It takes me a moment to join two and two. “Wait, your Arctic dream?”
“You know it’s not really happening in the Arctic, don’t you?” Artie says. I can tell he’s stalling.
“Artie, what’s this?” Susan asks.
Artie sighs. “It’s this thing I wanted to apply to.”
