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Stumbling up the steps I slump against the door, cursing because I can’t form a fist to knock on it. The next thing I know, the door swung open, and I’m falling to the floor. I lay there for a minute before I realize that I’m inside and must look like a complete idiot to the homeowner. Pushing myself to my feet, I’m almost giddy knowing that I wasn’t just sent down here to freeze. That feeling is short-lived the second I see the woman standing before me.
Her gaze locked onto mine, and suddenly, memories flooded my mind. My ex-girlfriend stood before me, her expression a blend of shock, disbelief, and a hint of something I couldn't quite decipher. It had been years since I seen her last as a young woman, but she was no longer a young woman. She was a goddess in her form fitting cat suit. Curves in places she never had before drew my eyes to the swell of her breasts, down to her narrow waist before settling on her ‘fuck me’ thighs.
Before I could even utter a word, her fist shot out with lightning speed, striking me squarely in the throat. The pain was sharp and sudden, leaving me gasping for air while I stumbled backwards, struggling to regain my breath.
“What the hell?!” I managed to croak out, a mixture of confusion and surprise in my voice.
Her eyes blazed with a combination of anger and hurt as she faced me, arms folded defensively. “You idiot, you killed me. Remember?”
My mind raced to make sense of her words. What was she talking about? Memories resurfaced, memories that I had pushed deep down. The accident—the one that had forever altered my life, the accident that had torn us apart and the one that had me on a ten-year bender.
“I...” I stammered, my voice faltering as the weight of her accusation settled in. “Wait a minute.” I opened the cabin door and grabbed a handful of snow, pressing it against my throbbing throat. With the icy relief, I re-entered the cabin. “I was the one that died, and I've spent the last ten years in heaven. I'm sure I would have run into you at some point.”
Her lips curled into a bitter smile, her gaze unwavering. “Who said I was in heaven?”
The cabin's warmth seemed to close in around me, making it difficult to breathe. The tension between us hung heavily in the air, like a storm brewing just beneath the surface. “Are you saying you were in... Hell?”
She nodded slowly, her eyes never leaving mine. The bitter smile faded, replaced by a sorrowful expression. “Yeah. After you fell on me at the foot of the stairs, we both died that day, I guess you didn’t know?”
A rush of memories flooded back, the accident that had haunted me for years. Our date night, the night the unthinkable happened. I’d always assumed I had died, and she had been left to suffer the aftermath. The realization hit me like a punch to the gut, an overwhelming wave of guilt and regret crashing over me.
“I’m so sorry...” I whisper, my voice heavy with remorse. “I never meant for any of that to happen.”
She looked away; her gaze focused on the crackling fire. “I know you didn't. But knowing that doesn't change what I've gone through in Hell, literally.”
The heat in the cabin had turned stifling, the air thick with unspoken words. I wanted to reach out, to erase the pain I had caused, but I knew that some wounds could never fully heal. Like killing your girlfriend, intentional or not.
As the fire crackled in the hearth, a heavy silence settled between us. The storm of emotions continued to rage, both within and around us. The bitter cold outside was nothing compared to her icy stare and for a minute I thought about going back out in it.
With a heavy sigh, her anger seemed to soften. “You're freezing. Sit by the fire and warm up before you catch your death.”
I laughed at her choice of words and nodded, grateful for the chance to escape the intensity of the moment. As I settled into a chair by the fire, her gaze lingered on me before she turned away, granting both of us a reprieve from the wild emotions that hung in the air.
A low growl sounded the alarm that it wasn’t just Ava and me in the cabin. Slowly, I turned my head to the right and that’s when I saw the dog’s lips pulled back showcasing its pearly whites. “Ah... Nice dog?” I dart my eyes to Ava’s face. “He is a nice dog, right?”
“To me he is.” She raised a delicate shoulder of indifference as she perched herself on the arm of the sofa. “To you, probably not.”
At this point the dog is sitting squarely in front of my legs, between her and me, and I know for a fact, if so, much as a muscle twitches, he will be lunging for my throat like his mistress did. Despite shitting bricks, I chance a glance at her. “Where did he come from?”
“Stand down.” She said, and the dog promptly went to her side, his watchful eyes never leaving my face. “He’s mine. Remember? I told you about him, from when I was a kid.”
“Bones’?! What?! Good Lord what is he thirty years old now?”
She looks at me as if I had a horn sticking out of my head. “Are you smoking meth? He was dead. He was down in Hell when I got there.” Standing she shook her head. “I just knew it was him the second I saw him. He won’t bother you again” — she headed towards the small kitchen and opened the fridge — “not unless I tell him too. Are you hungry?”
She just had to throw that in didn’t she. Like I wasn’t already feeling like a piece of shit. “Wanna talk about your time down there?”
She looked at me from around the fridge door and shook her head. “No.”
Ava's dismissal left a lingering tension in the air, one that I couldn't shake off easily. I wanted to reach out to her and stroke her hair and tell her a thousand times how sorry I was. But instead, I sat there, my gaze shifting between her and the dog, who remained steadfastly by her side.
Having been warmed enough by the fire, I joined her in the kitchen area, still wary of her companion, and leaned on the small island that separated the rooms. “Well in that case, yeah I could eat something.”
“You can have eggs.” She pulled out a basket full of eggs and set it on the counter by the stove. “The frying pan is there in the sink. You will need to wash it.”
I glanced at her and saw the challenging tilt of her jaw. She was waiting for me to say something anything just so she could jump down my throat or punch it again. Clearly, this was not the same woman that I was going to propose to on that fateful night. Without a word, I moved over to the sink and grabbed the handle of the pan. Squirting dish soap onto a sponge I raised my brows to her as I turned on the tap. “Are you hungry too?”
“No. You go ahead. Bones and I ate before you got here. Speaking of which, why are you here?”
