Chapter 5: Escalated Storm
578 Words
The storm escalated fast.
Rain lashed against the lodge’s windows in thick, angry sheets. Wind howled through the cracks in the wooden beams. The lights flickered twice before finally cutting out, leaving only the faint amber glow of emergency lanterns the staff had placed in the hall.
Vanna sat on the edge of the bed, arms wrapped around herself, listening to the roof groan above her. The storm outside was relentless.
Then — footsteps.
Heavy. Slow.
They stopped outside her door.
A sharp knock followed.
She didn’t answer.
A moment later, the door creaked open anyway. Gavin stood there, soaked to the bone, his shirt clinging to him, hair dripping. His jaw was tight — not from anger this time, but tension. Something more complicated.
“Power’s out everywhere,” he said flatly, not stepping in yet. “Staff’s all huddled in the kitchen. The roof in my side of the lodge is leaking.”
She looked at him, unmoved.
“So? Find a towel and deal with it.”
He gave a dry laugh. “No towels left. Or dry rooms, apparently. They said this is the safest one left.”
She didn’t respond. The storm screamed through the windowpanes.
“Look, I can sleep on the floor,” he added quickly, suddenly less combative. “I’m not here to argue. Just here to not get rained on in my sleep.”
Vanna hesitated. Every nerve in her body told her to send him away, but she was cold, alone, and stranded in a storm on an island where the only thing more dangerous than the weather was the unfinished things between them.
She stood, crossed the room, and silently grabbed an extra pillow from the closet. Tossed it on the floor.
“Stay out of my space,” she said quietly.
“Gladly.”
He stepped in, shutting the door against the howling wind. The room fell into a heavy silence, broken only by the storm outside and the occasional low rumble of thunder.
For a few minutes, they existed in parallel — Vanna on the bed, staring out the window; Gavin sitting cross-legged on the floor, his back against the wall.
Then, without looking at her, he said:
“I shouldn’t have said what I did earlier.”
She didn’t move.
He continued anyway.
“I was angry. At him. At everything. And you were… easy to lash out at.”
Still, silence.
“But that doesn’t make it right.”
Vanna turned her head slightly. Her voice, when it came, was quiet but sharp.
“You wanted me to be the villain so badly. Because it made it easier to hate me than to admit your father was just… a broken man.”
He looked down at his hands.
“Maybe,” he admitted. “Or maybe I just didn’t want to believe he could still hurt people. Not after everything he already did.”
The storm cracked like a whip outside. Vanna hugged her knees to her chest.
“He did hurt me. But I let him,” she murmured. “That’s the part I’m still trying to forgive myself for.”
Gavin looked at her then — really looked. Not like a headline. Not like a name or a scandal. But like a woman who had stood in the same emotional wreckage he’d lived through.
And for the first time that night, something between them softened.
Not forgiveness.
Not friendship.
But understanding.
- Writer
