Page 85 of If This Was a Movie

“When we’re in the car,” he says, pushing open the door. The snow is coming down hard now, an inch or three on the sidewalks. Nate’s boots crunch, compacting the snow with each step as he moves toward the truck idling outside the community center.

“Nate!” I shout, though not moving as thick snowfalls cling to the arms of my sweater, arms that are wrapped around Nate’s neck. I don’t have shoes on, after all. Thankfully, I guess, he continues to ignore me, using one hand to open the truck door, a wave of heat enveloping me as he slides me into the seat, tossing my bag on the floor of the truck.

“Keys,” he says, putting a hand out.

“Keys?” I repeat.

“For the community center so I can lock up.”

I don’t argue; instead, I dig into my bag to grab the key ring, separating the one he needs. He grabs it wordlessly, slamming my door shut as I bend once to grab my comfy but not waterproof boots from the bag. Finally, I tug them on beforesitting back in the chair, arms on my chest, watching Nate as he locks the front door.

A moment or two later, he’s jogging around the front of the truck to the driver’s side, opening the door, and sliding in. Slowly, he begins to drive in silence.

“Where’s Sophie?” I ask quietly, noting she’s not in the back seat and assuming school was canceled for the day.

“Staying at my parents for the storm,” he says simply.

I try not to look over at him, but when my curiosity wins, his jaw is tight, and he glares down the road, driving slowly. The roads are empty, and I’m relieved to note a few of the busier roads have been plowed, even if they’re quickly filling back up with heavy snow.

“Where are we going?” I ask as he turns left on Acorn Street, going a different way than I’m used to, probably to stay on the main roads that are more likely to have been cleared.

“Home,” he says, voice low and almost threatening. I should argue and tell him it’s his home and mine is under construction, but for some reason, I don’t. “Back roads are all a mess; it’s better to take main roads when I can. It might take a bit longer, but at least we’ll get there safe.”

I bite my lip, suddenly feeling ridiculous that he had to come all this way just because I wasn’t smart enough to check the fucking weather before I left this morning. I was so caught up in my nerves and, admittedly, my lack of sleep that all I could think of was getting out of there before Nate came to try and talk to me.

“You didn’t have to come get me,” I say as we drive at a snail’s pace the mile to Nate’s place, clearing the road before us as he does.

“I wasn’t going to leave you alone during a blizzard, Jules.”

“I would have been fine.”

“I’m sure you would have been,” he says. “That’s what you want, right? To prove to everyone you’re independent and fine being alone?” I stare at him, but his eyes are on the road, not looking at me. “That way, you can hide in your safe little box where no one and nothing can hurt you.”

I know he’s not talking about being safe during a blizzard anymore, so instead of responding, I bite my lip and look out the window.

“Stay here. I’m going to shovel a path to the house, then we’ll go in,” he says a few minutes later when we pull into the driveway.

“Nate, I’m going to the cottage,” I say low, my stomach in knots.

“No, you’re not.”

“Excuse me?” I ask, feeling my own irritation building because he can’t tell me?—

“Power’s out, Jules. The cottage is going to get really fucking cold really quick. There’s a fireplace in the house, we can stay warm, and I have a generator to keep things going as needed.”

“Oh,” I say quietly, slightly embarrassed.

“But don’t worry, I won’t bother you.”

My head snaps back with his irritation. “What?”

“You ran off in a goddamn blizzard to avoid me, Jules. I told you to come over, and we’d talk in the morning, and instead, you drove a mile into town and planned to stay there with a blizzard coming. Clearly, I’ve been pushing too much, and I’m pushing you away. So I’m just going to…stop.” With that, he opens the door, stepping out and slamming it.

I should be relieved.

I should be relieved that I don’t have to have some big talk with Nate to push myself to do something that’s going to scare me.

Instead, I feel an all-consuming sadness take over me.

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