Page 32 of See You Next Winter
Waving them off through the first checkpoint, I dig my car keys into my palm, desperate to feel something worse than this pain. Except I was right, there is nothing worse than the pain of being miles away from the man you love.
When they disappear around the corner, it takes everything in me not to drop to the floor and bawl my eyes out. My phone buzzes in my pocket, pulling my focus for long enough to keep me vertical.
RYAN:Miss you already
God, I hope I don’t regret this. On the drive back up the mountain, it occurs to me nobody‘lets themselves’fall in love. Love comes for you whether or not you want it to.
As predicted, I cry the entire way home, and even harder when I find the t-shirt he’s left under my pillow.
Chapter 24
Ryan
RYAN:Good Morning Bunny
KAYLA:Shouldn’t you be sleeping?
RYAN:About to head to bed. Longest day ever. Got time to talk?
KAYLA:Sorry, already on the ski lift. Try you later?
RYAN:Sure, have a great day!
TWOMISSED CALLS: KAYLA
RYAN:Sorry had to work through lunch today. I’ll try you later?
KAYLA:I’m at dinner with clients tonight. Catch you in the morning?
KAYLA:My morning, your bedtime
ONE MISSED CALL: KAYLA
RYAN:Sorry I missed you, was wiped after a long day in the studio
RYAN:Send me a pic, I miss your face, friend
Chapter 25
Kayla
March is the busiestmonth in the season, with perfect snow conditions, and families from all over the world descending on the resort for their winter vacations. I have tours or lessons booked every single day, sometimes multiple, and by the time I crash into bed at night, Ryan is busy at work.
Our schedules don’t match up often enough to talk on the phone regularly, but we sustain our friendship with text messages, the occasional photo, and now, apparently, postcards.
My slim mailbox in our shared hallway is usually empty, but something told me to check it when I got home, and I knew immediately I had something from him.
Inside, I get comfy on my sofa and I manage to catch him for a video call before he heads to work.
“Did you really send me a postcard?” I ask when he answers, and a huge smile breaks across his face.
Fuck, I miss that smile.
“Might have done.”
“Why?” I lift it to my nose and inhale deeply.
“At Christmas, you said a postcard would have been nice. It felt like a guaranteed way to get in touch with you.”
