Page 45 of Once Upon a Winter
He narrowed his eyes and stared off into the distance. “First, you should know me well enough to know I’m not much of a follower. Second, even if I were, I wouldn’t take romantic cues from inanimate objects.”
Laura opened her mouth, but before she could speak, Cooper continued. “Third, I’ve told you how I feel. The fact that I’m still here should confirm it.” Cooper shut his eyes as if summoning patience. “If this were anyone else, I’d be gone.”
“Except this is your house, so I guess I’d be gone.” With a sudden realization, she said, “Oh. I should go.”
He seemed genuinely alarmed. “No!” He ran his fingers through his hair in frustration. “Is it me? Am I just not speaking clearly enough? I mean, obviously not. Look, I’m trying to tell you I love you!”
He looked as surprised as she did. Laura couldn’t move or speak.
He took a few breaths to calm down. “Sorry. That wasn’t how I meant to share that bit of news. I wasn’t planning to say it at all. It’s too early. It’s not the sort of thing you say at this point in our relationship. Sorry.”
“You’re sorry you love me?”
He frowned, rubbing his forehead. “No, I’m sorry I blurted it out like an awkward adolescent. I just mean I don’t need a snow globe to tell me I love you.”
“Then why does it feel like everything is falling apart?” Laura demanded, her voice cracking. “Why do I feel like I’m losing you?”
“Because you’re letting your fear get the best of you.” The edge in his voice revealed how thin his patience was. “Look, I get it. The snow globe is a sort of symbol for you—your big move, your new life. It’s a loss. But it’s only an object. It doesn’t define us or our relationship unless we let it. We’ve got to trust each other and ourselves.”
“Trust?” Laura scoffed, her heart heavy with doubt. “How can I trust anything when our entire relationship was built on something that wasn’t real?”
Cooper yelled, “Laura! Can you hear yourself?”
Laura flinched. She had never seen him lose his temper like that.
Cooper turned away and took a deep breath. “Sorry. I’m sorry. Look, there’s nothing more I can say. It doesn’t matter how I feel because you have some things to work out.”
“Cooper, I…” Laura faltered, her mind a whirlwind of conflicted emotions. She whispered, “I should go.” She went to the door and pulled her coat from a hook. Outside, the snow flew as the wind tossed it about, but she couldn’t stay any longer.
“Wait, Laura! Don’t go. It’s not safe!” Cooper pleaded, reaching for her arm.
Shaking off his touch, she pulled on her gloves. “No, you’re right. I need to figure things out on my own, and I can’t do that here.”
And with that, Laura stepped out into the storm, leaving Cooper and her broken snow globe behind.
Once outside, Laura realized she hadn’t driven over there. Cooper had. But she wasn’t about to go back inside. Besides, it was just a few blocks from her house. So she started walking. The frigid wind whipped her, chilling her to the bone as she trudged through the thick layer of snow blanketing Cooper’s yard. She’d come dressed to walk out to the truck, not to tromp through knee-deep snow. She envisioned her parka and fleece-lined boots in the closet and desperately missed them. With each step, icy snow breached the tops of her ankle-high boots while the biting cold found its way past her collar and up through her sleeves.
Barely able to see past the flying snowflakes ahead, she allowed her mind to race with conflicting thoughts and emotions. Could it truly be love, or was she just dreaming of what Christmas could be? When had she lost track of logic?
Cooper stoodin the doorway and watched the woman he loved head down the driveway, ignoring his calls. “Damn it,” he muttered under his breath, clenching his fists. She could hate him all she wanted, and she probably did, but he was going to see her safely home. He pulled on his jacket and headed for his truck.
Laura had barely made it a block by the time he pulled up beside her and opened the door. “Get in.”
The fact that she took him up on the offer so quickly was a testament to the storm’s fierceness. The two-minute drive to her house felt much longer in the silence.
He pulled into the driveway. “I wish you’d reconsider. You don’t have any heat.”
“I’ve got a fireplace. It was good enough for the pioneers.”
“The pioneers might have been cold.”
“I’ll be fine.”
“If you change your mind, call me anytime. I’ll have the phone by my bed. I can be here in two minutes.”
With a simple thank-you, she got out of the truck and went into her house.
Seventeen
