Page 25 of Snowy Secrets

River nods curtly, his eyes fixated on me with a smoldering intensity that sends a shiver down my spine. "Looks incredible, Marcus. Your culinary skills never cease to amaze."

I manage a weak smile, my hand trembling slightly as I reach for a slice of chicken. The savory juices burst onto my tongue, the rich flavor offering a momentary distraction from the unspoken words hanging in the air.

A crystal decanter filled with a deep red wine is passed around, and Marcus raises his glass in a toast. "To good friends, good food, and second chances."

The clink of our glasses is a hollow echo in the suffocating silence that follows.

Clearing my throat, I try to sound nonchalant. "So, River, it's been a while. What have you been up to?"

He doesn't blink, his gaze locked onto mine as if searching for the truth hidden in my soul. "I retired a few years ago. Needed a change of pace."

I do my best not to throw a spoonful of food at him. "Retired?" My brows raise of their own volition. "You wereso passionate about your work. What prompted the sudden change?"

River's eyes darken, a flicker flashing across his face. "Sometimes, life throws you a curveball. You make a choice, a wrong one, and everything you've built crumbles like a house of cards."

The weight of his words hangs heavily in the air, suffocating the conversation. Marcus busies himself in cutting more chicken, but I'm done.

My fork clatters onto my plate, the appetite I once had vanishing into thin air.

"What kind of choice?" I whisper, my voice barely a breath.

A muscle twitches in his jaw and he finally breaks my gaze to look away, into the distance. "The kind that haunts you in your dreams, Bella. The kind that shatters your soul and leaves you with nothing but regrets."

"So," Marcus intervenes with a good-natured smile, "Bella, what do you have planned for tomorrow?"

I push my plate away. "Nothing. I hope to survive, and I hope to be left alone." It isn't my intention to be cruel to him—he's lovely, and he seems genuinely nice. In fact, it's more and more apparent that I have a crush on him—but being around River is all too much right now.

"Ah," he replies, tearing into a piece of bread thoughtfully. "Well, the good news is the worst of the storm is behind us," he says between mouthfuls, spraying out breadcrumbs as he attempts to lighten the mood, "and we have electricity, so hot water is at your disposal. And we have a movie room if you're into that kind of thing."

I sigh reluctantly. A movie in fuzzy socks, wrapped in a cozy blanket does sound pretty nice. As does a hot shower. "Thanks, Marcus. You've been incredible."

He raises a hand. "Speak nothing of it. You're our guest."

"So I'm repeatedly reminded," I mutter under my breath. I stand up. "If there's nothing else, may I be excused?"

Marcus doesn't say anything further. I stride out of the kitchen with quick steps, intending to get to my room as fast as possible. Halfway up the stairs, River's voice carries to me. "Bella, wait."

Oh, hell no.

I pay no heed to him and climb away. He catches up near my room and grabs hold of my hand. I whirl around, fire spurting out of my eyes as I wrench my arm away from him. "How dare you touch me?" I ask, my lips, my whole body, shaking as I attempt to steady myself. It's impossible when he's this close, when he's looking at me with raw need in his ridiculously beautiful eyes, when his lips are parted in an apology.

"I'm not trying to make this difficult for you," he replies tersely, his voice hoarse. "I–I can't forget you, Bella. I'll never forget you."

This time, I stomp my foot down, angry tears beginning to fall. "Well, you sure as hell did a great job trying to," I shout at him. "Get away from me!"

His eyes—how I loved the gentle burn of yearning in them—now glint with a manic intensity. "Damn it, Bella, I did what I did because I loved you."

His words hit me like a physical blow, a desperate plea disguised as a justification. My heart pounds chaotically in my chest. I want to believe him, to melt into his embrace and forget the years of pain, but the betrayal is a wound too deep to heal with mere words.

"Love?" I spat, my voice thick with bitterness. "You call abandoning me love? You call shattering my dreams and leaving me to pick up the pieces love?"

River's grip tightens, his fingers digging into my skin as if to anchor me to him. "It was the hardest decision I ever made, Bella. But I believed it was the right one. For you. For us."

My breath hitches in my throat, his proximity awakening a longing I had desperately tried to suppress. His scent, a familiar mix of sandalwood and leather, fills my senses, weakening my resolve. I want to give in, to surrender to the intoxicating pull of his embrace, but I can't. Not yet.

"You were wrong, River," I whisper, my voice barely audible. "You were so, so wrong."

For a fleeting moment, I see a flicker of doubt in his eyes, a chink in the armor he has built around himself. But then, just as quickly as it appeared, it vanishes. He releases me, his hand falling limply to his side.

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