Page 99 of David's Love

The afternoon events slowly pull away from me while I take in the falling snow.

Once snow arrives, this place is magic. I’ve never seen something more beautiful. Roads and trees decked out in silver dust.

We quickly leave the town behind and head to the mountains. The road is scenic, and despite how much I love the area, I rarely get the chance to see it.

There’s always something else to do.

A few hotels flicker with lights in the distance, but we follow the road to a private area with log homes, cabins, and a large lake.

Once we enter the woods, it’s like stepping into a fairy tale.

Large branches sift snow in the wind while we travel below them.

Here and there, lights peek through the trees, and snippets of life flash inside the window frames.

A few more minutes pass, and the homes become more scarce and scattered.

Before long, a cabin looms in the distance, and I can only imagine this is his.

Who knew I’d spent the night in a place like this?

The car comes to a stop next to David’s ride. A truck is also parked in front of the cabin.

We barely pull in and the door to the cabin opens. David climbs the few stairs. He wears jeans, boots, and a sweater. He looks nothing like the man I know.

A genuine smile colors his gaze when he opens the door for me.

I can’t be anything but sincere when I pull out, read his eyes for a second, and wind my arms around his neck.

Everything that happened this afternoon belongs to the past now. Whisked away. Hidden. Forgotten.

I don’t need to make an effort to pretend I hadn’t learned about his past before I came here.

There is no space in my head for that story.

His lips are warm. His cheeks are cold. We kiss before I have the chance to get my bag. The driver stays put, wise, and solemn.

“How was your trip?” David asks, yanking my bag from the back seat.

“It was good,” I say.

He seems exhilarated and nervous at the same time. Happy to see me yet tense like a rookie.

It’s like he has dug up some information on me and not the other way around.

He thanks the driver, and we both watch the vehicle pull away.

His hand locks mine before his eyes come to mine, a dome of silence falling over us.

It’s like we’re stuck in a cathedral.

The silence is beautiful, and the snow whispers like the silk brushing a patch of skin.

“It’s only us?” I murmur.

“Only us. I thought we’d celebrate,” he says, pivoting and walking me to the entrance.

“What are we celebrating?” I ask when he pushes the door open, and a cozy interior fills my sight. “Oh. It’s pretty,” I exclaim, unable to contain my enthusiasm.

---