Page 34 of Snowed in with the Grump

“Nothing more to discuss,” he says tersely, turning away. But I catch a brief flicker of pain cross his face.

I reach for his hand, relieved when he doesn't immediately pull away.

“Please don't shut me out,” I plead. “Let me be here for you.”

Carter's shoulders slump. He rubs a hand over his weary eyes and finally says, “I need time to process.”

Although it pains me to see him hurting, I won’t push.

“I understand. But whenever you're ready to talk more, I'm here.”

He nods, giving my hand a gentle squeeze before dropping it.

I resolve to provide Carter with space today but make sure he knows I'm ready to listen and offer support when he needs me.

But as the day wears on, the gulf between us widens. Carter remains coolly distant, shrugging off my attempts to bridge the gap.

It’s as though yesterday’s sweetness, our fun in the kitchen, his confession of love, all of it, was a dream. Like none of it existed.

It isn't true, but what he’s dealing with is significant. I can support him and find the right people to help, but I need him to trust me. To trust us.

As evening falls, I've had enough of the cold shoulder treatment. If Carter won't come to me, I’ll go to him.

Without a word, I march up to him and wrap my arms around his muscular frame, pressing my body flush against his. Carter's eyes widen in surprise, but I don't give him a chance to retreat or speak.

I kiss him hard, pulling him against me with all the passion in my soul. At first, he struggles, trying to pull away, but I cling to him fiercely, and after a moment, his muscular arms wrap around me tightly in return.

When we finally break for air, I look him straight in the eyes, still clutching fistfuls of his shirt.

“Whatever you're dealing with, you don't have to face it alone. I'm here for you, Carter.”

His expression softens. “I’m sorry,” he says roughly. “It's stuff from the past. I'm fine.”

I shake my head. I won't let him do this to himself or us. “You don't have to tell me anything, but please don't shut me out.”

He hesitates, eyes flitting across my face as if searching for something. “I don't want to hurt you.”

I reach up to cup his stubbled cheek. “I get it. But we're in this together for all of it–the good and the bad.”

Carter takes a shaky breath, guilt and longing warring across his features. His jaw clenches, conflicted. He hesitates as if he's about to decline and withdraw to his emotional fortress. But his shoulders slump in defeat.

“Okay,” he agrees hoarsely.

Relief washes over me because he’s agreed to open up and trust me with his demons.

We settle on the couch, and I tuck myself against his side, my head resting on his broad shoulder. His arms immediately wrap around me, warm and secure.

He lifts my hand and gently presses his lips to my palm. I’m certain we’re meant for each other in moments like these.

Carter speaks again; his voice is low.

“I’m sorry I’ve been distant, but it was never about you. My issues stem from dark places in my past that you didn't cause and can't fix.”

Didn’t I? It was his feelings for me that sent him away. Guilt twists my gut as I think about the letters. I never meant to deceive him, but everything is different now.

What will he think? Will he understand why I hid them or feel betrayed? The fear of losing what we have is paralyzing me. I remain silent, gathering my courage before I speak.

“Carter, there’s something you should know.”

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