Page 28 of Trapped with the Ice Queen

“Something like that,” Alex said. “It wasn’t for me.”

“So that is why you ran away to the mountains?”

“Not quite that simple. I had a girlfriend- Sasha Rogers- you might know that name.”

Vivienne raised her eyebrows. That name, she did know. SashaRogers- elegant, beautiful, immaculately dressed, was on every reality show there was.

“Sasha and I met when she was a young Skier on the US team. She was obsessed with fame, even then. She was well into social media and wanted to make us the golden couple. I couldn’t do it. Being recognized and photographed everywhere I go isn’t for me. And, she changed. Fame changed her. And one day, I realized I didn’t like her anymore. I didn’t like the life she had made for us.”

Vivienne nodded. Alex’s secrets were unravelling bit by bit.

The tea was strong and slightly bitter, but Vivienne savored its warmth as it traveled through her. The silence between them wasn’t awkward; it was full and alive with a thousand unspoken things. Her fingers traced the rim of the mug absently as her thoughts wandered.

“How’d you manage this?” she asked, gesturing to the pine bough on the mantel.

Alex shrugged, a hint of a smile tugging at her lips. "Found it during one of my firewood runs. Thought it might help us feel a little less stranded, I guess."

Vivienne’s heart swelled with affection. "It’s perfect."

Alex ducked her head, fiddling with the edge of the table, and Vivienne realized just how rare that bashful look was on her. She wanted to see more of it.

The table between them now held something else—two small packages, neither wrapped in the traditional sense but unmistakably gifts. Vivienne hesitated, her fingers brushing the newspaper-wrapped bundle she’d been hiding since this morning.

“I, uh...made you something,” she said, her voice tentative. She placed the folded package on the table, pushing it gently toward Alex.

Alex raised a brow, clearly caught off guard. "You made me something?"

Vivienne nodded, feeling her cheeks flush. "Don’t get your hopes up too high. It’s, well, you’ll see."

Alex peeled back the folded edge of the paper, her eyes widening as the delicate shape of an origami flower emerged. The folds were precise, though not perfect—a testament to Vivienne’s effort rather than anyreal skill.

"An origami flower," Alex said, her voice soft with something like wonder.

“It’s silly, I know,” Vivienne rushed, suddenly embarrassed. “I found an old piece of paper in one of the books, and I just?—"

“It’s not silly,” Alex interrupted, her fingers tracing the edge of the flower with care. She looked up, and there was something unguarded in her expression that made Vivienne’s breath catch. "Thank you."

Vivienne swallowed hard, brushing hair back from her face. “Your turn,” she said, nodding toward the small object in Alex’s hand.

Alex chuckled, holding out what appeared to be a piece of carved wood. The shape was rough but unmistakable: a small bird in flight, its wings spread wide. "It’s not much. Just something I carved when I couldn’t sleep."

Vivienne took the bird, her fingertips running over the grain of the wood. It was simple, yes, but also beautiful in its imperfection. She imagined Alex working on it by firelight, her hands shaping something so delicate from a piece of kindling.

“It’s perfect,” Vivienne whispered, her voice thick with emotion. “Thank you.”

Their eyes met, and for a moment, the weight of the storm, the uncertainty of what lay beyond this cabin, all of it melted away. In its place was something fragile, a connection that neither had expected but couldn’t deny.

Vivienne smiled, feeling warmth spread through her chest. “Merry Christmas, Alex.”

Alex’s lips curved in that rare, breathtaking smile. "Merry Christmas, Vivi.”

Vivienne’s eyes sparkled, and she smiled at the nickname, something special only Alex called her. They stayed like that in the moment, the glow of the candles and the quiet of the storm wrapping around them like a promise.

As the night wore on, the fire crackled softly, its light gilding the simple pine bough draped over the mantel. The storm outside had gentled into a low, sporadic whisper, as if even winter was reluctant to disturbthe quiet warmth of the cabin. The table was set once more, the remains of their earlier teamwork now transformed into a modest but inviting dinner: golden slices of roasted potato, a small portion of pan-seared trout that Alex had in her freezer, and a shared mug of spiced cider.

Vivienne smoothed her napkin over her lap, acutely aware of Alex’s presence across from her. They ate in companionable silence at first, the glow of the candles casting flickering shadows over their faces. The simplicity of it all—the shared meal, the pine-scented air, the hush of the snow outside—felt oddly sacred.

“So,” Vivienne began, breaking the quiet. She felt the weight of Alex’s gaze, steady and patient. “Do you ever think about what happens after this?”

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