The Winter Between Us

Chapter 4.

Chapter 4: The Decision

The morning light filters through the heavy curtains, casting soft shadows on the cabin’s wooden floor. The night feels like a distant memory, the rawness of the events fading into the background, but my thoughts remain as chaotic as they were before. The warmth of the room is a stark contrast to the chill that still lingers in my bones.

I’m lying in bed, staring at the ceiling, my mind drifting from one thought to the next. I can still feel the weight of Milton’s words from last night, his promise that I’m not alone. But the more I think about it, the more I realize how complicated everything is. I can’t ignore the fact that Ben is still out there, still my husband, and the pregnancy—that’s something I can’t just sweep aside.

A soft knock on the door breaks me from my thoughts, and I sit up quickly, brushing my hair away from my face. “Come in,” I say, though my voice is a little hoarse.

The door creaks open, and Milton steps inside. He’s holding a steaming mug of coffee in his hand, a small smile playing on his lips. He looks… calm, like he’s been through all of this before, and somehow it makes me feel even more unsettled.

“I thought you might need this,” he says, handing me the mug. I take it from him, appreciating the warmth against my cold fingers.

“Thank you,” I murmur, lifting the mug to my lips and taking a sip. The coffee is strong, the bitterness grounding me in the moment.

“Sleep well?” Milton asks, sitting down on the edge of the bed.

I hesitate, unsure of how to answer. “I didn’t sleep much,” I admit, setting the mug down on the nightstand. “I’ve been… thinking.”

“I can imagine.” His voice is gentle, understanding, but there’s a hint of concern in his eyes. “About Ben?”

I nod, feeling a lump form in my throat. “I don’t know what to do, Milton. I don’t know what’s right anymore.”

Milton’s expression softens, and he shifts closer, his presence comforting but still enough to make me feel exposed. “You don’t have to figure it all out right now, Violet. You’ve been through a lot. Just take it one step at a time.”

I look at him, his dark eyes steady and kind, and I feel this strange pull toward him—something I can’t quite explain but that feels both reassuring and terrifying. “I don’t want to hurt anyone. But I also don’t want to stay in a marriage that isn’t real anymore.”

He sighs, his hand reaching out to touch mine. The warmth of his touch calms me, even though my heart is racing. “You don’t have to stay in something just because you feel obligated. You deserve more than that. And you don’t have to figure out all the answers today. It’s okay to take your time.”

I pull my hand back, wrapping my arms around myself. The space between us feels huge, even though we’re sitting inches apart. I try to ignore the flutter in my chest as I gather my thoughts. “But what if I make the wrong choice? What if I regret it?”

Milton doesn’t hesitate. “Regret is a part of life, Violet. But staying somewhere where you’re not happy? That’s a choice you’ll regret even more.”

I don’t know if I believe him entirely, but his words seem to settle somewhere deep inside me, like a seed that could grow into something. I don’t know where it will take me, but right now, it’s enough to hold onto.

“I don’t want to feel like this anymore,” I whisper, feeling a tear slip down my cheek before I can stop it. “I don’t want to be stuck.”

Milton reaches over, wiping the tear away gently with his thumb. His touch is soft, tender, and it makes my heart ache. “Then don’t be stuck, Violet. You don’t have to do it alone.”

I look at him, the weight of his words heavy in the air between us. “But you’re here. I can’t keep leaning on you like this.”

He looks at me with an intensity that makes my breath catch. “You’re not leaning on me. You’re letting someone who cares be here for you. There’s a difference.”

I open my mouth to say something, but the words don’t come. Instead, I find myself leaning toward him, drawn to the comfort he offers so freely. Before I know it, I’m standing in front of him, the distance between us almost nonexistent. His eyes search mine for a long moment, as if asking for permission, and when I don’t pull away, he gently places his hands on my arms.

“I’ve been here for you, Violet, since the beginning. I always will be.” His voice is low, almost a whisper, and his touch makes me feel both safe and exposed. My heart is racing now, faster than before, and I can feel the heat rising in my cheeks.

I want to say something, anything, but words seem to fail me. Instead, I reach up, my hands trembling slightly as I touch his face. He doesn’t pull away. He doesn’t even flinch.

“Milton…” My voice catches in my throat, and I feel my pulse quicken. The uncertainty is still there, but it’s mixed with something else—something that feels like the beginning of something new, something unknown.

He leans closer, his lips just inches from mine. “Violet,” he murmurs, his breath warm against my skin. His hands move to my waist, pulling me slightly closer, and in that moment, everything else disappears. The noise in my head quiets, and all I can hear is the beat of my own heart.

Then, just as I’m about to close the distance between us, the sound of a door opening from downstairs breaks the silence.

My heart stops. I pull away quickly, my chest tight with panic. “Someone’s here,” I whisper urgently, stepping back.

Milton looks at me, his eyes a mixture of frustration and understanding. “I’ll go check.”

“No.” I shake my head, panic rising in my throat. “Please, don’t let anyone know you’re here. Not yet. Not until I figure things out.”

He doesn’t argue. He just nods, his expression softening as he stands up. “Okay. But, Violet, I’m not going anywhere. I’ll wait for you, whenever you’re ready.”

I swallow hard, feeling the weight of his words more than I’d like to admit. I nod, but I don’t trust myself to speak. Instead, I watch him leave the room, my thoughts swirling with everything that’s happened—and everything that might still happen.

I sit back on the bed, taking a deep breath. My mind is a mess of conflicting emotions. There’s a part of me that wants to reach out and embrace the possibility of something with Milton. He’s everything Ben never was: kind, patient, understanding. But there’s still a part of me that feels the pull of the life I’ve built with Ben.

But, as the minutes tick by, I realize that no matter what decision I make, I can’t continue living in the same place I’ve been. I need to move forward, one step at a time.

I grab my phone from the nightstand, staring at the screen for a long moment. There’s a message from Ben.

“Violet, I need to talk. Can we meet?”

My finger hovers over the screen, unsure of what to say. I should meet with him, talk things through, figure out what happens next. But the thought of facing him right now, of dealing with the confusion and the hurt, makes me want to retreat back into the safety of this cabin, into the quiet space where I don’t have to think about what comes next.

I hear footsteps coming up the stairs, and my breath catches in my throat. Ben’s here.

I quickly delete the message, just as Milton comes back into the room. His eyes narrow as he takes in my reaction, and I feel a surge of guilt. But I can’t let him see it. Not now.

“I need to go,” I say quietly, standing up and grabbing my coat. “Ben is here.”

Milton doesn’t say anything at first. He just looks at me with those steady eyes, like he’s trying to figure out what’s going on inside my head. “You don’t have to face him alone.”

“I know,” I whisper, the lump in my throat returning. “But I have to do this on my own. I have to make the decision.”

He doesn’t argue, but his face tightens with concern. “Just remember, Violet, I’m here for you. No matter what you decide.”