Page 2 of Winter's Kiss

“One room?” I nodded my head at the man’s question. He nodded and flipped around a book before he turned his back to the wall of keys behind him. It was like something from a horror movie, I thought. No electric keys, no credit cards, I noticed as my eyes lowered to the cash-only sign tapped to the glass counter. “Forty-five dollars.” He continued as he tossed the key onto the counter.

I quickly signed my name and nodded before I slid the money to him. I just wanted out of that room, into the safety of mine. He cleared his throat after he snatched up the money and arched his brows. I took that as I could leave and that was quickly what I did.

Soon as I stepped outside, I exhaled the breath I had been holding. I remained against the door only seconds before I headed toward my car, the sudden vibration of my phone in my pocket causing me to jump. With a slow approach to the driver's side door, I looked down at the device, Andrew’s name stretched across with his picture. I knew he loved me and worried about me, yet the constant calls and texts had started to grow annoying.

“Hello, Andrew.” I opened the door and clicked the lock to the trunk.

“You didn’t answer before.” I shook my head at his words while I moved to the back of my vehicle.

“I was driving. You know I don’t like to be on the phone while I drive.” It was a lie, but one I told without guilt.

I hadn’t been gone twenty-four hours, and he seemed determined to make sure I never forgot how close he would always be.

“Where are you now?” His question, though simple, made me feel as though he was checking up on me. It had been a trick my parents often did when I would get home even ten minutes late. I pulled open the hatch on my Dodge Journey and stood in silence, my mind riddled with questions.

Was I reading into things more than I should? Did he ask a genuine question, simple and normal? I had known this man all my life and although at the current moment we both saw our relationships as something different, he still was someone important in my life. My mouth parted, yet the words of comfort I had been used to giving him stopped at the tip of my tongue. I was doing this trip for myself. I’m a thirty-year-old woman. I didn’t need to answer anyone. I repeated the three facts in my mind before I grabbed my bag and slammed the hatch down.

“Andrew, I told you I needed time away to think. That doesn’t mean you get to call and text me a million times.” I clicked the lock button on the opened car door before I stepped onto the sidewalk and made my way toward my room.

“I just wanted to make sure you were safe.” I knew he loved me, and I still loved him, if indeed I ever did.

“I know, but you have to give me space right now. I need this.” I unlocked the door to my room and stepped inside, the smell of old carpet a powerful hit.

I clicked on the light and closed the door, my strides across the room stopped with his question.

“Then you’re coming back to me?” I remained silent for over a minute before I tossed my suitcase onto the eighties-style comforter.

“Andrew, I… I honestly don’t know.” I slowly lowered to sit on the edge of the bed. “I told you, I needed time away, for myself. That you should do the same. But I’m sorry. I don’t know if we will ever be back together, at least in that way.” I hated hurting him. He had always been such a good man, but I had to think of myself for a change.

Andrew and I remained on the phone for only minutes more before I ended the call, followed by a quick check-in with my parents and sister. I just wanted to relax, shower and stuff my face with pizza. It had been a long day and an even longer one threatened the following day with the call of snow on my planned route.

I woke the following morning torn. Excitement had changed to terror. Had I been wrong, thinking going out on this trip alone would be a great idea? Andrew was a good man and treated me well. Why did I need to rock that boat? My parents had money and a lovely home and gave me everything I had ever needed in life.

Why should I not trust their motives with the direction my life had gone so far? I remained in bed for over an hour, with just a blank stare at the off-white ceiling.

My mind traveled through every text between my sister and me. Through the pictures of Andrew and me from just the month before. I had thought about returning to California, yet as I took a minute longer, I realized I needed to do this. Perhaps I did return to Andrew. Maybe I lived the life my parents planned for me. I would have this trip for myself first.

I dressed for the day in a red plaid shirt with black leggings, turned in my key, and readied myself for the last drive of my trip. With the threat of the storm along the East, I decided to reroute my trip slightly further South. I knew it would take me a little longer to get to my sister’s, but for someone who had never driven in the snow, what other choice did I have?

The first part of my trip had been the same as the day before. A long stretch of road, dirty rest stops, and eighties music turned to the highest volume. Andrew and my parents had called and texted me throughout the day, simple messages that normally would have been answered but now only caused me to press my foot on the accelerator. Even hours away, states between us, I felt as though the chains they had placed around me remained.

I had gone through every emotion one person could go through as I passed the state line of Kentucky. This trip went far beyond what I wanted. I needed this.

The thought of ever returning to California made my stomach sick. I knew my parents loved me. Andrew made no secret he would wait for me to come back, but did I love him that way anymore? Could I go back and just chalk this trip up as an adventure I would tell my kids in the future? Just something mommy did.

I stopped quickly at the first rest stop I saw, used the restroom, and dressed in warmer clothing. The temperature had dropped at least ten degrees, a chill in the air I had never felt before. How did people live in this type of weather? The question repeated through my mind as I sprinted across the empty parking lot. I glanced at the GPS once more, readied myself, and started on the road again.

The snow had started to come down in big flakes. The once clear road now held a dusting that seemed to grow in inches with each mile I drove. A once crowded highway started to trickle down to only me and a few plow trucks as they spread salt on the pavement. I grew nervous as I pressed forward. My speed slowed with the flip of my wipers. I could barely see before me. The signs that read the exits were only visible once right on them.

My hands gripped around the wheel as I felt a wave of nervousness flood over me. My eyes lowered briefly to the speedometer. Ten miles per hour. I shook my head at the speed I felt comfortable going and knew it was pointless to continue like this.

My gaze lifted to the sign on the side of the road, lodging on the next exit. Waiting out the storm was the safest choice, no matter how behind it put me in my travels.

With a slow merge, I pulled from the highway, my GPS with a quick reroute. I followed the signs down a long curvy road for over a mile before I pulled to a stop. I let out a light laugh with a shake of my head as I saw the word CLOSED in bold letters across the motel’s sign. Just my luck, I thought.

“Highway it is then,” I spoke to myself with a quick check of the GPS. Five more miles down the same road than another road and I would make a circle back to the highway. I nodded my head and pressed the gas, my tires a slight spin before they gripped the untreated road.

I knew I should have stayed on the main road; the thought bringing a slight laugh to my lips. This is just how people died in movies, I teased myself. I just wanted to get closer to my sisters, at any cost. I had seen many people drive in the snow, hell it didn’t look that hard. The voice on my GPS instructed me of the turn and, with a grip and slow spin of the wheel, I moved onto a single-lane road, covered in thick snow.

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