Chapter 1
Wind gusted through the cut in the mountain snow trail, stinging my cheeks until they went numb. I continued trudging down the pitch-black, winding mountain snow trail, all the while my phone had been buzzing in my pocket for ages, pressed against my thigh, and it gave off a faint, false sense of heat through my frozen jeans.
I finally came to a stop.
Brrr, I blew warm air on my stiff, frost-numbed fingers before I could even manage to swipe the screen open.
"Hello?" I said.
"Where are you right now?" Liam's voice came through the receiver, soft car music humming quietly in the background.
I stared out at the endless expanse of blinding white snow stretching ahead. "Still on the mountain."
"What are you still doing up there?" His tone held a thread of annoyance, like he had every right to be irritated with me. "Didn't the rescue team tell you to wait for the next shuttle?"
"The next one's three hours out."
"Then hike down a bit on your own. There's definitely rides at the base camp." He paused, like he was assigning some trivial, run-of-the-mill chore. "Quit being so high-maintenance."
I didn't say a word. All I could hear was the wind screaming through the pine trees.
"Oh, right, Wendy's ankle is swollen, so the driver took us straight back to the vacation villa." Liam's voice was steady, tinged with that usual take-charge air he always had. "When you get back, swap out the duvet in the master bedroom."
I froze right where I stood. The sock around my ankle was already crusted and stuck to the raw, frostbitten flesh underneath.
"Swap the duvet?" I repeated in confusion.
"Wendy gets cold easily. The heater in the guest room is too weak. She can't stand it," he explained patiently, as if this was a perfectly sensible, obvious request. "She'll sleep in the master bedroom tonight, you take the guest room. You don't mind the cold anyway."
I stared down at my boots, soaked clear through with slush and snow. "Okay."
"Hurry up, we're almost back. Wendy wants that brown sugar ginger tea you make."
The line went dead with a click.
I trudged for four straight hours, and by the time I made it to the villa, the sky was already starting to lighten.
I pushed the front door open. Two pairs of shoes were tossed haphazardly in the entryway. One was Liam's custom-made snow boots, the other was Wendy's white lambskin boots; melted snow dripped off their soles, right onto the wool rug I'd laid down just yesterday.
The living room was toasty, the heater cranked up full blast. Liam's jacket was draped over the couch, Wendy's purse tossed right next to it.
I slipped on a pair of slippers and stepped inside.
The master bedroom door was cracked open.
Liam's soft, lowered voice drifted through the gap. "C'mon, be good, put the ointment on."
"Liam, I feel so awful, my foot hurts so bad," Wendy whimpered, her voice thick and stuffed up.
"Once the ointment sinks in, you'll feel better after a nap. I'll stay right here with you."
I froze outside the door.
Peering through the c***k, I saw Wendy stretched out on the master bed. Under her was the pure silk bedsheet I'd special-ordered from abroad for our wedding next month.
I didn't push the door open. Instead, I turned on my heel and headed for the second bedroom where I quickly discovered half the closet there was already filled with my clothes.
I yanked open the bottom drawer and pulled out my 24-inch black suitcase.
The master bedroom door swung open.
Liam stepped out, holding an empty water glass. When he spotted me, he blinked in surprise for a second. "When did you get back?"
"Just now."
He frowned, his eyes locking onto my pant legs caked with slush and mud. "What the hell happened to you? Your pants are all soaked. Don't drag that mess all over the sofa."
He didn't ask how I'd managed to hike all the way down the mountain in the snow. He didn't notice the blood seeping through the fabric of my sock around my injured ankle, either. He just sauntered over to the water dispenser and filled a new cup of warm water.
"Did you make the brown sugar ginger tea? Wendy's foot is hurting so bad she can't sleep."
"No." I folded up a few of my everyday clothes and set them neatly in the suitcase.
Liam finally noticed what I was doing. He marched over and propped himself against the doorframe. "What's with the tantrum this time?"
"Packing my stuff."
"Is this just because I let Wendy sleep in the master bedroom?" Liam let out a cold sneer, his tone oozing that patronizing, condescending exasperation he always got when he thought I was being unreasonable. "Can you stop being so petty? She's hurt, for crying out loud."
"She's your childhood friend. I have no right to be mad." I zipped up my toiletry bag and tucked it into the mesh pocket inside the suitcase. "I just think this house is getting too crowded."
Liam stared at me, a flicker of displeasure flashed in his eyes. "Fine. Go ahead and leave. Don't think I don't see what you're doing, you're just trying to force me to cave and apologize." He took a sip of water, his voice cool and assured. "Once you walk out that door, don't expect me to come pick you up."
"Okay." I shut the suitcase lid and clicked the locks into place.
Clack.
Liam turned on his heel and headed back toward the master bedroom. "Shut the door behind you when you leave. Don't make any noise and wake Wendy up."
I didn't answer. I hefted the suitcase off the floor, then set the spare house key down on the entryway shoe cabinet.
