CHAPTER FIVE
1208 Words
Amara woke up with swollen eyes.
The kind of swelling that came from trying not to cry but failing anyway.
The kind of ache that didn’t fully leave, even after sleep.
The cabin was quiet when she blinked herself awake. Too quiet.
Snow still pressed itself against the windows like it wanted to break through, and the cold air made her wrap her blanket tighter around her body. She stared at the wooden ceiling for a long moment, feeling the heaviness in her chest settle again.
She wasn’t supposed to care.
She wasn’t supposed to feel anything for Ethan Hale.
She wasn’t supposed to feel hurt by his words.
She’s nothing.
The sentence stabbed her again.
Stupid.
Stupid.
So stupid to let one man’s words ruin an entire night.
She sat up, rubbing sleep from her face, and whispered to herself, “Get over it, Amara.”
But her heart didn’t listen.
Downstairs Heat, Upstairs Cold
Voices floated up from downstairs.
A woman’s bright, cheerful voice.
Riley.
Amara’s jaw tightened.
Great. She was still here.
She forced herself out of bed, showered quickly, and changed into a fresh sweater. Her hair was still a bit damp as she stepped into the hallway.
And she almost stopped breathing.
Riley was leaning on the kitchen counter, wearing one of Ethan’s sweaters a large, dark-grey one that hung off her shoulder like it belonged there.
Ethan was standing across from her, arms folded.
He didn’t look comfortable.
He didn’t look pleased.
But Riley didn’t care.
“Oh, good morning!” Riley said with a bright smile. “Sleep well?”
Amara managed a stiff nod.
Her eyes flicked to Ethan.
He looked at her for a second too long a flicker of something in his eyes. Concern? Guilt? Confusion? She couldn’t tell, and she didn’t want to.
“Lily’s still asleep,” Ethan said quietly, his gaze still stuck on Amara. “She stayed up late reading.”
Amara nodded again. “Okay.”
Silence dropped on the room like heavy snow.
Then Riley clapped her hands together. “So! Plans for the day?”
Ethan cleared his throat. “You should be able to leave by afternoon if the storm calms.”
“Oh no rush,” Riley said, waving her hand playfully. “The company is delicious.”
Amara nearly broke a mug with her grip.
Riley winked at her. “And you too, sweetheart. I love your clean-girl aesthetic. So natural.”
Was that a compliment or shade?
Amara couldn’t decide.
Tension Over Breakfast
Ethan cooked breakfast.
Amara helped quietly.
Riley talked the entire time, alternating between flirting with Ethan and complimenting the cabin like some interior design influencer doing a home tour.
“And this wood? Stunning. I could shoot a whole aesthetic video here. Ethan, you really have that rugged-mountain-man style.”
Amara nearly choked on air.
Ethan didn’t react.
But his eyes flickered, always finding Amara, as if checking something on her face.
Amara avoided his gaze completely.
Every time he moved closer, she moved away.
Every time he looked at her, she looked at something else the floor, the table, Lily’s drawings, anywhere.
Ethan finally asked softly, “Are you okay?”
She nodded too fast. “I’m fine.”
He frowned slightly. “Are you sure? You seem”
“I’m fine,” she repeated sharper.
Riley blinked, sensing the shift but pretending not to.
“Well,” Riley said dramatically, “someone woke up spicy.”
Amara put down her fork. “Excuse me.”
She walked out before either of them could say anything else.
Ethan Follows But Not Close Enough
The freezing air outside slapped her face as she stepped onto the porch. Snowflakes melted on her warm cheeks.
She breathed out, watching her breath fog up.
Why did she feel like this?
Why did his words keep replaying in her head?
Why did she allow someone like Ethan Hale to make her feel small?
It made no sense.
None.
She wrapped her arms around herself.
A moment later, the door opened behind her.
Ethan stepped out.
No jacket. Bare arms. The cold didn’t touch him.
He approached slowly, like she was a frightened bird he didn’t want to scare away.
“Amara.”
She closed her eyes.
Not this.
Not now.
Not while her heart still stung.
He stopped beside her, leaving just enough space that the cold breeze slipped between them. The silence stretched.
“I didn’t get to talk to you last night,” he said quietly.
Amara looked straight ahead. “There was nothing to talk about.”
“That’s not true.”
“I said I’m fine, Ethan.”
“You’re lying.”
Her breath hitched.
She turned to snap at him, but the moment her eyes met his..
It was over.
He looked at her too deeply.
Too seriously.
Like he was trying to read every unspoken emotion she was hiding.
“Did Riley say something to you?” he asked.
“No.”
“Did I?”
Her stomach twisted.
She opened her mouth.
Closed it.
Opened it again.
“No,” she whispered.
He watched her.
He didn’t believe her.
Before he could push further, the door swung open.
Riley stepped out, smiling like she’d found her next scene to disrupt.
“Oh! Morning lovebirds! Am I interrupting something?”
Amara stepped away from Ethan so fast she almost slipped.
“No,” she said quickly. “Not at all.”
Riley raised a brow, amused.
Ethan’s jaw tightened.
The Quiet Shift Inside the Cabin
The rest of the morning was torture.
Riley followed Ethan everywhere like a lost puppy with lipstick.
She laughed too loudly.
Touched his arm too often.
Acted like she already belonged.
And Amara?
Amara grew quieter and quieter.
She didn’t mean to.
She didn’t want to.
But every time she remembered:
She’s nothing.
Her throat closed a little.
Ethan’s eyes found her again and again. Every time Riley flirted, every time Amara stiffened, every time something inside her crumbled quietly.
He noticed.
He didn’t understand it, but he noticed.
He watched her like she was slipping away from him and he didn’t know why it bothered him so much.
Ethan’s Softness, Amara’s Walls
When Riley excused herself to “go fix her lip gloss,” Amara finally allowed herself a breath.
She was arranging the blankets on the couch when she felt Ethan walk up behind her.
“Amara.”
She didn’t turn.
“What?”
His voice dropped. “Did something happen? Between us?”
She swallowed. “No.”
“Then why are you avoiding me?”
She froze.
She didn’t answer.
Ethan stepped closer not touching, but close enough for warmth to brush her back.
“You’re angry,” he said.
She shook her head.
“You’re hurt.”
Her breath caught.
“You’re wrong,” she whispered, voice thin.
“I’m not,” he said quietly. “I see you, Amara.”
She stiffened.
She hated how those words affected her.
Before he could continue, Lily came running in, happy and loud.
Riley followed behind her with fresh lipstick and chaos in her smile.
And just like that, the moment shattered between them.
- Writer
