Page 94 of Slap Shot Daddies

The room breathes in quiet harmony, and I am serenaded a gentle, crackling murmur from the fire. As the minutes slowly spiral into the serene hours of night, a tranquil peace gradually fills the crevices left by my turbulent days.

My eyelids, heavy with exhaustion, slowly close as I am gently lulled into slumber by the combined cocoon of the fire’s glow and the quiet companionship of my newfound family.

Yet the fragile peace shatters when the sharp chime of my phone slices through the silence, dragging me abruptly from my own cat nap.

I blink against the morning’s dim light, my neck stiff from having slept in an awkward, contorted position on the lumpy couch, and stretch out a trembling hand toward the coffee table where my phone persistently vibrates.

Its screen casts a gentle luminescence, revealing a new message from Braden.

My heart skips a beat, a combination of anticipation and anxious trepidation pulsing through me.

With a hesitant swipe of my finger, I open the message and am met by a breathtaking landscape, a vast mountain range cloaked in immaculate, sparkling snow, stretching out beneath a sky awash in soft hues of pink and gold.

The early morning sun hovers just above the horizon, bathing the scene in a gentle, promising glow that whispers of hope and fresh beginnings.

Beneath this visual masterpiece, a poem unfolds before my eyes, each delicately crafted line resonating with deep emotion.

Love is the wind,

Unseen but strong,

A whisper in the trees,

A pull where you belong,

It lingers in footprints,

Left behind in the snow,

A journey uncertain,

But still, we go.

Love is a passionate ache,

A burn and a freeze,

An anchor that holds,

Even in the blustered breeze,

And no matter the distance,

And no matter the cost,

What’s truly meant for us

Is never truly lost.

A bittersweet ache blooms in my chest as I trace the tender script with my fingertips, feeling as though the words are etched deep within my soul.

Braden. His name vibrates in my mind, stirring a tumultuous array of memories, regrets, and longing.

I exhale shakily, caught between the relief of his poetic embrace and the sorrow of all that once was.

I miss him, miss the shared moments, the cherished memories and the laughter that once filled our days.

Yet, more than anything else, a solitary question gnaws at my heart with fierce determination.

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