Page 71 of Snow Bound

“I’m an idiot—” Anna gave the snow a vicious kick, sending Henry leaping with joy, “—because I thought I could do this and walk away.”

“Ah.”

“Ah?” Anna stopped walking. “What does ‘ah’ mean?”

“Nothing. What did you think you could do?”

“Oh, no,” Anna protested. “You don’t get to say ‘ah’ in that lawyerly tone and then just move on. What the hell does ‘ah’ mean?”

Lola sighed. “Fine. ‘Ah’ means, ‘ah, you finally figured out you’re in love with him’.”

There was a stump a few feet to Anna’s right, so she stumbled over and sat on it. Henry, wondering why the game had stopped, wandered over to shove his head in her lap. “What?”

“I really thought you’d snap to it sooner,” Lola continued. “But I suppose it’s understandable you didn’t, what with the sex haze and all. When did you figure it out?”

“This morning,” Anna said numbly. Henry was nudging her hand and whining, so she gave him a reassuring pat. “When he smiled at me over breakfast and I wanted to throw up.”

“Sure, that sounds like love.”

“I can’t believe you figured it out before I did.”

“Well, you had to work through the sex haze,” Lola allowed. “So, are you going to tell him?”

Just the thought made her want to throw up again. “Absolutely not.”

“Why not?”

“Because I only have two days left,” Anna said and pushed off the stump to continue her stomp through the snow, Henry galloping ahead. “I don’t want to ruin them.”

“So instead you’ll spend them in a constant state of love-sick anxiety?”

“You know, I have other friends. I don’t need to talk to you.”

“Great. Call one of them.”

“Besides, I can’t tell him.” Stomp, stomp. “We agreed to two weeks, and what happens in Northern Michigan stays in Northern Michigan.”

“It’s sex, not an arms treaty,” Lola said, exasperated. “You’re allowed to change your mind.”

“Yes, but you’re forgetting one thing.”

“What’s that?”

“I’m a coward.”

“No, you’re not,” Lola said firmly. “Look, I can’t make you tell him. But I can tell you from experience that sharing your feelings is always better than hiding them, at least in the long run.”

“And in the short run?”

“Terrifying and potentially humiliating,” Lola admitted.

“You can see how that might kill the mood.”

“So, what? You’re just going to say goodbye with a hearty handshake and say ‘thanks for the orgasms’?, then go home with a broken heart?”

The trees were thinning, the house coming into view. Anna slowed her steps while Henry gave a happy bark and bounded forward. “What if I tell him right before I leave Sunday morning? That way if he’s…”

“An asshole?”

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