Page 27 of Trapped with the Ice Queen

Alex shrugged. “Sometimes. But I got used to it.”

Vivienne reached across the table, her fingers brushing Alex’s wrist. The touch was light, tentative, but it sent a warmth through Alex that soothed her.

“You shouldn’t have had to,” Vivienne said, her voice barely above a whisper.

Alex looked down at Vivienne’s hand, at the way her fingers rested so delicately against her skin. It would have been so easy to pull away, to retreat behind the safety of her walls. But she didn’t.

Instead, she surprised herself by speaking. “My mom used to say that Christmas was a time for making peace—with others, with yourself. I haven’t done much of that in a long time.”

Vivienne’s smile was faint but genuine. “Maybe you’ve started tonight.”

Alex glanced up, meeting Vivienne’s eyesagain. The flickering light made them shimmer, their usual sharpness softened into something that looked almost like genuine care.

The silence stretched between them, not awkward but weighted with unspoken affection. Alex could feel the shift, the moment tipping into something deeper, something she wasn’t sure she was ready for but didn’t want to stop.

“Thank you,” Vivienne said suddenly, her voice breaking the quiet.

Alex frowned, her brow furrowing. “For what?”

“For letting me be here. For…this,” Vivienne said, gesturing vaguely at the table, the fire, the closeness between them.

Alex shook her head. “You don’t have to thank me.”

“Yes, I do,” Vivienne insisted, her voice firm but kind. “You’ve given me something I didn’t even realize I needed.”

Alex didn’t know how to respond, so she didn’t. Instead, she stood and began gathering the plates, using the excuse of tidying to process the knot of emotions Vivienne’s wordshad stirred.

When she turned back, Vivienne was still watching her, her expression unreadable. Alex felt her chest tighten, the weight of the moment pressing against her ribs.

For tonight, at least, she decided to let it in.

9

VIVIENNE

Vivienne stretched her legs toward the fire, the quilt draped over her lap radiating the heat of their shared space. She inhaled deeply. The air smelled of wood smoke and pine, scents she now intimately associated with Alex, and she noticed she didn’t recoil from them anymore.

A pine branch rested on the mantel, its green needles kissed by melted snow. Beneath it, a cluster of candles flickered in uneven rhythm, their soft glow transforming the modest room into something cozy and almost magical.

Vivienne’s gaze drifted toward Alex, who was setting another two mismatched mugs oftea on the table. The woman moved with quiet purpose, her movements efficient yet unhurried. Even now, she was mindful of every detail, stoking the fire to keep the cabin warm, brushing stray flour off the counter, making sure Vivienne didn’t go without.

It wasn’t the Christmas Vivienne had imagined for herself—or even one she would’ve considered celebrating—but for the first time in years, it felt like the day carried meaning. No glittering lights or towering trees. No carefully curated social media posts of a perfect holiday. Just this: warmth, care, and the quiet kind of connection she’d forgotten to miss.

Alex turned, catching Vivienne’s gaze. "Tea’s ready."

Vivienne smiled, feeling a flicker of nervous energy at how her heart seemed to respond. "Thank you." She rose to join Alex at the table.

“I found your medals, by the way. Winter Olympics 2006 Turin. 2010 Vancouver. 2014 Sochi. 9 gold medals. 2 silver. Did you forget to mention your famous athlete history?”

“Must have slipped my mind,” Alex said quietly.

“What was your sport?”

“Snowboarding,” Alex said as she set the table.

“Of course,” Vivienne said. “And, to be the best in the world? I’m not surprised at your dedication and skill. I don’t know much about sports but this is a LOT of Olympic medals. You must have been the golden girl of the US team. You must have been famous.”

Vivienne wondered for a moment as she looked at Alex if she vaguely remembered her face and her name from the champion she had been. Vivienne might not have followed sports, but she wasn’t immune to the news and social media.

---