Page 31 of Faking It with the Ice Queen

As they passed a small cabin, lights glowing warmly in the window, the driver spoke, his voice breaking the quiet. “Lake Tahoe’s beautiful, huh? So peaceful at night,” he said, his tone friendly, oblivious to the turmoil swirling within her. “Were you staying up here for a little getaway? Looks like the perfect place for a vacation.”

Grace’s lips tightened as she swallowed, forcing herself to answer. “No,” she replied, her voice soft, barely audible. “Just work.”

The words hung in the air, sounding hollow even to her own ears. She’d come here with Elara to play a role, to pretend, but it had felt like so much more than just work—at least to her. Now, saying it out loud felt like a final admission, a confirmation of how little it had meant to Elara, how foolish she’d been to hope for something real.

The driver nodded, a sympathetic look in the rearview mirror. “I hear ya,” he said, a friendly smile in his eyes. “They make it sound glamorous, but work trips can be brutal.”

She forced a smile, a small, tight expression that didn’t reach her eyes. “Yeah,” she murmured, looking away quickly before he could see the tears threatening to spill.

The minutes dragged on, the highway stretching endlessly in front of them. Grace let her head rest against the cool glass, closing her eyes, but every time she tried to push Elara’s face out of her mind, she only saw it more clearly—the warmth in Elara’s eyes during those brief moments when her guard had slipped, followed by the cold dismissal that had shattered her illusions. Each memory twisted the knife a little deeper, and her heart ached, raw and bruised.

She opened her eyes, staring blankly at the passing headlights, wondering how she’d allowed herself to fall so hard, to believe that Elara could ever truly let her in. It felt foolish now, like a mistake she should have seen coming. But the pain ran too deep to simply brush it off; she’d given Elara a part of herself she couldn’t easily take back.

The city lights of Sacramento finally appeared in the distance, a faint glow on the horizon, but the sight brought no relief, only a sense of emptiness. She was going back to the life she’d had before Elara, yet it felt irreparably different now, like she’d left a part of herself behind at that resort, abandoned in the cold, silent room.

The driver cleared his throat as they neared her apartment, glancing back at her in the rearview mirror. “Hope it wasn’t all bad up there,” he said, offering a comforting smile. “Sometimes work surprises you.”

She managed another tight smile, nodding, even as her chest tightened painfully. “Yeah,” she replied, her voice barely steady. “Sometimes it does.”

As they pulled up to her building, she thanked him softly, her voice barely more than a whisper. She climbed out, her legs feeling leaden as she walked toward her door, her bag heavy in her hand. She wanted to drop it, to let it all go, but instead, she forced herself to keep moving, to put one foot in front of the other, even as her heart felt shattered beyond repair.

And as she closed her apartment door behind her, she finally allowed herself to let go, the tears spilling over as she slid down against the wall, the ache filling the empty silence.

13

The once warm bed felt vast and cold as Elara tossed and turned, tangling her legs in the sheets and making a mess of the pillows. Every time she closed her eyes, all she could see was the hurt in Grace’s eyes. The silence in the room was deafening, as if all sounds disappeared after the door clicked shut behind Grace. She had once thought of Grace’s emotions as an ocean berating her stone walls, eroding away her defenses. Now, she felt as if she were drowning on land, gasping for air and breathing in sand, making her throat raw and her heart heavy.

Breathing deep, trying to find her center of calm, Elara filled her lungs with Grace’s honey-sweet scent. The anger bubbled up in her stomach, making her feel sick. Elara sat up in a fury, throwing the sheets and blankets off the bed as she punched a pillow. She strode over to the sitting room, desperate for a dram to calm her nerves. Elara methodically poured her drink as her hands shook. In search of any relief, she quickly downed the whiskey in one gulp and poured another.

Elara leaned against the wall, fuming as she played their argument over in her mind. Elara’s hands tightened around theglass, her knuckles white as she downed the whiskey, feeling the familiar burn in her throat. She glared at the empty glass, then poured a third, her mind churning as fragments of their argument echoed in her ears.

“You can’t honestly believe that, Elara. You can’t just kiss me like that, have sex with me like that, and then act like none of it matters.”

The words twisted in her mind, poking at her pride, fueling her anger. How could Grace think she had any right to demand so much? They’d had an arrangement—clear, simple, no strings attached. Grace had known that from the start. She had no business expecting more.

Elara clenched her teeth, staring into her drink as her chest tightened. She’d never asked for this, never asked Grace to care so much.I didn’t ask her to make me feel anything,she thought bitterly, a familiar wave of frustration building inside her. Grace had pushed and pried, refusing to accept the boundaries Elara had worked so hard to keep intact.

Her gaze dropped to the floor, the memory of Grace’s tear-filled eyes flashing in her mind. She’d been so…vulnerable, so open, begging for something Elara didn’t know how to give.Why couldn’t she just let it be?

But as the thought settled, a sliver of doubt crept in, nagging at the edges of her anger. She remembered the way Grace had looked at her—not with blame or resentment, but with a deep, aching hurt, as though Elara had reached into her chest and ripped out her heart. Elara’s throat tightened, and she swallowed hard, pushing down the rising wave of guilt.

Maybe she didn’t deserve that,a small voice whispered, but Elara shoved it down, clinging to her anger like a lifeline.

Yet, as she stared blankly at the wall, the anger began to ebb, replaced by a gnawing emptiness. She replayed every sharp word, every icy response she’d thrown at Grace, each one adefense she’d clung to out of fear. A fear that now felt hollow, pointless, leaving her with nothing but the memory of Grace’s retreating back and the silence that had fallen in her wake.

Maybe I’m the one who’s afraid,the thought whispered again, this time louder, undeniable. She had watched Grace leave without saying a word, knowing it was what she’d wanted—yet now, the emptiness that filled the room felt like a punishment. She’d pushed Grace away, but now, alone in the cold silence, she couldn’t shake the feeling that she’d just lost something real, something precious.

Elara’s hand shook as she lifted the glass to her lips again, the whiskey now offering no relief, no numbing comfort. All she felt was the ache, a hollow, suffocating ache that seemed to spread through her chest, filling every corner of her heart. She squeezed her eyes shut, but all she could see was Grace’s face, the hope in her eyes when they’d first kissed, the warmth that had lingered in every touch, every word, even as Elara had tried to deny it.

And then she saw the moment that warmth had broken, replaced by the look of betrayal, of pain, as Elara’s words had struck deep. She’d torn down Grace’s hope without a second thought, like it meant nothing to her.But it didn’t mean nothing,she realized, her chest tightening painfully.It never did.

A shaky breath escaped her lips, and before she could stop herself, a tear slipped down her cheek, hot and bitter. She swiped at it angrily, but another followed, and another, until the walls she’d built around herself began to crumble. She sank to the floor, the glass slipping from her fingers as the weight of her own actions crashed over her.

The reality hit her like a wave, stealing her breath, leaving her raw and exposed. She hadn’t just hurt Grace; she’d hurt herself, wounding the part of her that had dared to hope, that had longed for something real, something she’d never thought she could have.

Her shoulders shook as the tears came faster, her heart aching with a regret so deep it felt like it might swallow her whole. She pressed a hand to her mouth, stifling a sob, her chest heaving as the pain she’d tried so hard to deny finally broke free, flooding her with the truth she’d been too afraid to face.

She’d pushed Grace away, again and again, trying to keep her heart safe. But now, with Grace gone, the emptiness felt unbearable—a hollow ache that no amount of anger, no amount of pride, could ever fill.

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