Page 37 of Trapped with the Ice Queen

Vivienne’s legs shook as she walked to the door, her fingers brushing the cool handle, trying to steady herself.

She had to go. She had to leave.

She stepped outside, the chilly wind biting at her face, but she didn’t feel the cold. She didn’t feel anything at all.

She knew she had to call for help and head back to her car. But no matter how much she tried to convince herself, the thought of leaving this place, of walkingaway from the warmth Alex had given her, felt like it would break her in two.

The world around her was nothing but white noise, and as she walked through the snowy road that would lead her back to her car, she realized there would be no turning back.

12

ALEX

The cabin felt colder now. The fire, though still crackling, no longer had the same warmth. The air was thick with a silence that pressed against Alex’s chest, as though it were trying to suffocate her. She stared into the flickering embers, the glow casting shadows that danced across the walls like ghosts, reminders of what was lost.

Vivienne was gone.

It wasn’t just her absence in the physical space that hurt; it was the emptiness she left behind. Alex could still see her—Vivienne’s laughter, the way her blue eyes softened when Alex had caught her gaze, the way herdelicate hands had fit so easily into Alex’s, like they had always belonged there. The memory of Vivienne’s smooth, warm touch lingered on her skin, a feeling she didn’t want to forget.

But now, the cabin felt like a tomb. The space where Vivienne had been, where they had shared everything, felt hollow. The light from the fire cast long shadows on the walls, but it was a different kind of darkness that had filled the room. The kind that didn’t have an easy escape.

The last words she had said echoed in Alex’s head, a chorus of sharp, biting tones. “This isn’t real. It’s just something that happened.”

Alex squeezed her eyes shut, as if she could squeeze the words out of existence, out of her memory. She had said that. She had pushed Vivienne away, told her that it was nothing. Had she even believed it then? She wasn’t certain anymore, but now, with Vivienne’s absence stretching out before her like a gaping hole, Alex could feel how wrong it had been.

How wrong she had been.

Her fingers curledinto the quilt wrapped around her shoulders, the fabric soft against her skin, Vivienne’s fresh scent lingering, but it did nothing to soothe the ache in her chest. She remembered how it felt to have Vivienne close, how easy it had been to forget the world outside the cabin when they were together. That warmth, that feeling of belonging—it was all gone now.

Why had she done it?

She could still feel the warmth of Vivienne’s touch, that softness in her gaze as they had shared everything they’d been, all the raw, unspoken moments between them. But she had let it slip away. Let her fear—of change, of vulnerability, of losing herself—dictate her actions. She had convinced herself that they were too different. That what they had was just a fleeting thing, a distraction from the life she knew.

But it wasn’t.

Her mind raced, replaying every moment they had shared, every touch and laugh, every comfortable silence that hadn’t needed words. She had allowed herself to feel it—to let her heart open up in a way she hadn’t let anyone in for years. She had let herselfbelieve that there could be something more between them.

And now, that belief felt like a cruel joke.

Alex stood and walked to the window, gazing out at the snow-covered landscape. The trees, heavy with snow, swayed gently in the wind, their branches creaking in the quiet. The world beyond the glass seemed frozen in time. And inside, the world felt just as still.

She wanted to call out. Wanted to scream, to tell the empty room how wrong everything felt. To ask for another chance. To take back the harsh words, to undo the damage she’d done.

But there was no one left to listen.

Her eyes fell on the origami bird Vivienne had made her for Christmas. It rested on the coffee table, delicate and perfect in its simplicity, a symbol of something that had felt real when she had first received it. She had smiled so genuinely at Vivienne’s gift, touched by the thought and care behind the paper folds, though she hadn’t understood how much it would come to mean.

Alex picked up the bird carefully, as though it might crumble inher hands. The thin paper was fragile against her fingers, the sharp edges softened by the memory of Vivienne’s hands holding it. She turned it over in her palm, studying the intricate folds, the way each crease had been made with such patience.

It felt like a fragile piece of Vivienne herself.

A lump formed in Alex’s throat, and she swallowed hard, trying to keep the tears at bay. She hadn’t wanted to care about something so fragile. But the weight of the paper in her hand felt like the weight of everything she had lost—everything she had pushed away.

The fire crackled again, the sound like a sharp reminder of the absence that now filled the room.

Alex closed her eyes, and for a fleeting moment, she could almost feel Vivienne beside her again—her breath warm against the skin of her neck, her laugh echoing softly in the quiet space. But when Alex opened her eyes, the silence returned, and Vivienne was gone.

The pain of it was physical, a tightness in her chest that made it hard to breathe. Shesank down into the couch again, staring blankly at the fire, at the now cold space where Vivienne had been.

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