Snowbound With The Hockey Star

Chapter 8

Ava’s Pov

My chest felt heavy, a dull ache spreading through my heart because of Luca's words, "Clara is our angel, gone but not gone from our hearts," had settled on me like a new layer of snow, heavy, cold, and final.

I pushed away from the breakfast table, the leftover eggs on my plate suddenly tasting like ash. Fool. That's what I was. How could l be hurting for someone l just met when my fiance of years just cheated on me.

Yes l felt betrayed by Gary but deep down I know it's because he humiliated me by Sleeping With My Best Friend but is it because I love him? I don't think so.

He was taken by a ghost. And me? I was just a distraction. A temporary roommate.

The rejection felt sharp, and maybe that's what hurt. After all, I'm a spoiled princess who has always gotten what she wanted. But it also reinforced what I already knew: falling for someone is dangerous. It always, always ends in pain. I needed to remember that before making yet another mistake that I'm not sure I'll be able to take like the one I'm already living in.

I plunged my hands into the warm, soapy water, scrubbing the pan that was already perfectly clean. Anything to avoid looking at him. Anything to avoid the silence that hung between us.

I moved from the sink to the small table, wiping crumbs that weren't there. I felt like an intruder now. This was their haven, their space to remember her. And I had no business being here.

Just when I thought the silence and tension would swallow us whole, a small voice broke through.

"Auntie Ava!"

I flinched, I was 'auntie'. Here l was trying to detach but this little boy was making it very hard for me. He stood by my side, looking at me expectantly, asking me to go out into the snow with him. I tried using the it's too cold excuse, but he just wanted to be there at least for a couple of minutes, and it reminded me of myself begging my father for that kind of attention but being denied at every turn.

Life has taught me that hurt people hurt people, and I don't want that for this sweet innocent looking boy. He deserves a proper childhood filled with great memories and happiness, and if I can provide him with 10 minutes of that, then why not?

"Okay, Leon," I said, my voice coming out a little softer than I expected. "Let's get you ready for the snow."

I was still stiff, my movements careful. But as I pulled on his little snow pants, then his thick jacket, he giggled. I found myself genuinely laughing as I struggled with a stubborn zipper, then helped him find the right gloves for his little hands. His excitement was catching.

Outside, the snow was fresh and sparkling. We started rolling the first snowball, fat and heavy. Leon shrieked with delight when I pretended to struggle, letting him push it. He was a whirlwind of energy, stamping his little boots, chasing snowflakes. And I was right there with him. My own shoulders, usually so tight, began to relax. I felt a real smile stretch across my face, not the polite one I used for clients and my 'friends and family', but a wide, genuine one.

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Luca watching. He was standing by the window, a cup of coffee in his hand. His face, usually so closed off when he looked at me, held a flicker of surprise.

I don't blame him for looking at me like he doesn't believe I'm doing this because I don't believe it either. I felt a warmth and lightness in me that I rarely let anyone see, and joy that had been buried so deep, I almost forgot it existed.

A few minutes later, I heard the crunch of snow behind us. Luca had joined us. He didn't say much at first, just stood a little distance away, leaning against the porch. Meanwhile Leon was trying to make a snowball for the snowman's head, but it kept falling apart.

"It's okay, buddy," I said, putting my gloved hand over his. "Try pressing it really hard first, like this. Squeeze, squeeze, squeeze!"

He tried again, his brow furrowed in concentration. And when it finally held he cheered making us both laugh. I watched him, then reached out to gently pull his hat down over his ears, making sure it was snug. My own hands were freezing under the borrowed gloves butt I didn't care.

I felt Luca's eyes on me. When I glanced his way, he was no longer leaning. He was watching me with a strange look on his face. A pang of something I couldn't quite name twisted in my gut. It was a feeling that fought against the firm decision he'd made earlier, the one that said I was a mistake.

Even with the snow fun and Leon's happy shouts, the tension was still there. It was like a thin, invisible rope connecting Luca and me, pulled tight. I was laughing, making silly faces at Leon, trying to get him to put a carrot nose on our snowman's head. He was giggling, pointing.

I happened to look up, and my eyes met Luca’s. He had been watching me again, his gaze intense.

My laugh died in my throat. Heat rushed to my cheeks, a blush I couldn't control. I quickly looked away, pretending to be very interested in straightening the snowman's scarf.

The air around us crackled, thick with everything that wasn't being said. The kiss. His words about his late wife. My own hurt. It was all still there, just beneath the surface of the happy snow day.

Whatever is between us is getting dangerous with every look, but I had to reinforce my own defenses, to rebuild the walls before it was too late. I was here to be strong, not to fall for another impossible dream.