Page 50 of Snowbound

I haven’t told them, but I think they know. I think they know that nobody has gotten through to me like Carly has in a long time. Even if we weren’t meant to be, she’s changed me irreversibly. She’s changed me for the better.

Just thinking about waking up in a house without her leaves a cold ache inside my stomach.

When we slip out from the reception, we head to my truck and drive in silence. She looks absolutely beautiful. She must have picked up a dress when she and Ruth were out shopping. It’s pale blue, long and flowing, follows every one of her curves and cups her breasts in the kind of way that invites you to look, and she has a darker blue shawl, something fluffy that covers her entire shoulders, something to keep her warm in the February chill.

I am completely and utterly underdressed sitting next to her. I’m dressed in the smartest thing I own, and even that makes me look like a country boy in comparison to Carly. I was stupid for thinking she would ever genuinely have an interest in someone like me.

By the time I get to my shop, the silence is colder than the weather outside, thick and awkward in a way that we’ve never been before. One of the things I like about Carly is the way she isn’t shy to speak her mind, the way she’ll tell me things straight. She won’t dance around an issue just to try and make me feel better.

Now, here in my car, neither of us has anything to say, which means that all my fears about what this isn’t must be true. After all, if she wanted more, wouldn’t she have said something? Wouldn’t she have demanded to know how I felt and laughed at me when I admitted that perhaps there was a chance I liked her?

If she really wanted this, wouldn’t she have told those clients no, that she couldn’t leave straight after the wedding? That she had some other important business to attend to? Wouldn’t she have asked if she could stay?

I don’t want to embarrass myself by looking like some country hick who’s fallen for the city girl and begs her not to leave. I have my dignity, and we’re not in a movie. If we were, maybe things would work out.

I turn off the engine, and we sit in the truck for a second. The only sound between us is the wind rushing and howling outside. It’s like we’re both hesitating, both waiting for something to happen, both lost in our own little imaginary world.

Unable to bear the atmosphere, I get out of the truck and march over to her car. She follows me, clutching her bag and suitcase, which she must have stowed away in the truck earlier without me noticing.

“Here it is.” Then I say gruffly, “All fixed. I’d say good as new, but it’s not.”

She smiles thinly. “Are you sure I can’t give you something for this? I don’t want to feel like I’m taking advantage of you.”

“You’re not,” I insist. You’ve already paid with more than money. You’ve given me a heart,is what I want to say, but the words stick in my throat, so what I say instead is, “You’re good.”

She nods slowly and opens her trunk to throw the bags in.

“Carly,” I say before she can get into the driver’s seat and leave. “Give me your phone.”

“Why?” she asks, her eyes narrowing.

“Just give me your phone.”

She hands it over suspiciously, watching my every move. I open up the contacts and make a new entry, Gabe Mechanic, and put my phone number in. “In case you’re ever around and having car troubles again, you know who to call.”

She smiles, and this time it reaches her eyes, those beautiful blue eyes. “Thank you,” she says, then places a hand on my cheek, leaving a burning outline, and kisses me.

It’s a long, slow kiss, not deep, not passionate, but full of emotion. It’s a goodbye without words. It’s a full stop on the page. It’s both of us knowing that this is never going to happen again, that she’s not coming back. This crazy month is going to fade into both of our memories, like a pleasant dream or a perfect day.

I’m going to be chasing this high for a long time.

When she pulls away, my heart is pounding in my chest. It would be easy to wrap my arms around her now, to take her to the office and kiss her like I want to, to see her beautiful body again, to touch her. What I should do is tell her the truth that I want her to stay, but we’ve said it so many times. She’s made for the city, not for me.

She doesn’t belong here, so I have to let her go.

“Well, goodbye then,” she says, her eyes damp.

“Goodbye, Carly.”

With that, she gets into the car and starts up the engine. It sounds good. To my delight, it sounds like it’s running exactly as it should be.

She shouldn’t have any more problems with it now, at least not until she gets home.

I rap on the window, and she rolls the passenger side down. “Drive safely out there,” I say. “Stop if you get tired or if the weather turns bad again. You don’t want to get caught out on the road by yourself.”

“Thanks, Dad,” she teases. I set my face into a frown.

“I mean it,” I say. “I don’t want to hear that you’ve gotten into an accident.”

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