Page 31 of Snowy Secrets

"River," she whispers.

Honey and milk. That's what she is.

It's as if time stands still, the world fading away until all that remains are the two of us, locked in a silent battle of wills.

A single tear escapes, sliding down her cheek like a fallen star.

I want to reach out, to wipe away that tear and soothe the ache in her heart. But I know I can't. I'm not the man she needs, not the man she deserves.

So, I do the only thing I can do. I step aside, my voice barely a whisper. "Come in."

She nods to the tray. I pick it up and take it inside. She follows and settles down on a couch beside the fireplace. I look at the food on the plate. It's mercifully hot, waves of steam curling up into my nose and sending good signals to my brain. With a little sigh, I begin eating. The food settles in my stomach, warming and nourishing me, helping fight the waves of nausea from earlier. "Wyatt?" I ask, not looking up from the plate.

"Yeah," she replies, tapping her feet against the carpeted floor. "With a bit of help from Marcus."

I nod. "Thanks for taking care of me."

There's a sharp exhale. "That wasn't my intention," she counters in an even sharper voice. "I'm just…" And then, silence.

"Marcus said you weren't feeling well," she continues, her voice laced with a tentative concern that makes my chest ache.

"I'm fine," I lie, my words a reflex.

She sighs, her shoulders slumping slightly. "You don't look fine, River."

The sound of my name on her lips once again, spoken with such tenderness, is almost too much to bear. I clench my fists, the nails digging into my palms. "You shouldn't be here, Bella."

Her head snaps up, her eyes flashing with a spark of anger. "Don't do that," she says, her voice rising. "Don't shut me out."

"It's for the best," I say, my voice barely audible. "You deserve better than this."

"Better than what?" she demands, stepping closer. "Better than you, being an asshole right now? Damn right, I do. I didn't fall in love with this man, if you remember—unless the front you put up then was a lie, too."

The accusation stings. "None of it was a lie," I say, tearing into the bread with a vengeance. "You know that. All I wanted was for you to have the happiness of a home, a family."

She scoffs bitterly. "Because obviously, it was too much on my part to expect those things from you, right?"

I'm only eating because I'm famished. There's no drive left, even as the soup sends a flicker of warmth to my heart, lungs, and blood. "It was at the time," I admit slowly. "You know that, Bella."

"You never even gave me a chance," she cries, her voice thick with emotion. "You just pushed me away, told me to move on."

"I was trying to protect you," I say, my voice barely a whisper.

She slams a hand down on her lap. "Don't you get it, you stubborn oaf? I would havewaited." Her voice breaks. "The things you've been through, the things you put me through—none of it needed to be suffered in solitude if you'd just told me to wait, God damn you."

Her words are drowned by a muffled sob. "But no. You had to play the bigger man, tell me I deserved someone else. Because that's what you say when you love someone, right? RIGHT?"

My ears are ringing. I want to hurl the bowl of half-eaten soup across the room and scream back at her, but she's right. I was stupid back then. Stupid to let go of the only thing that could have saved me.

"I would have waited," she repeats, her voice barely audible. "If you had just said the words. If you had just asked."

I reach out, my fingers trembling as I brush a stray strand of hair from her face. Her skin is soft as silk, warm beneath my touch. A single tear escapes my eye, tracing a path down my cheek.

"I'm so sorry," I whisper, the words barely audible. "I never meant to hurt you."

"But you did," she counters, jumping off the couch. "You did, and now, try as I may, I can't give you the basic respect you fucking deserve because I'm soangryat all of it."

She moves to turn, to run away from me.

---