Snowflakes & Secrets.

6.

The cold wind had barely touched my skin when I realised I had left part of myself back in that diner. My chest was still tight, my hands still trembling from the memory of seeing them, the Del Castroso, frozen in guilt and fear, as if the sight of me had unearthed every sin they’d buried over the last ten years. Every step I took away from the diner felt like I was carrying the weight of a decade’s worth of pain, humiliation, and rage.

Jessy skipped ahead, her small boots crunching against the frosty pavement, chattering about some story from school. I followed silently, the sound of her voice barely registering. Ivan walked beside me, his presence warm, steady, grounding. He hadn’t said much since we left the diner, but I could feel his gaze on me, watching, assessing, protective. And I couldn’t tell him everything. Not yet. Not while the fire of old memories still raged inside me.

“I told you,” Jessy said, bouncing a little as she tried to tug me forward, “Grandma and Grandpa have cookies! And they want to hear about the CPS stuff!”

I forced a soft laugh, though it didn’t reach my eyes. “Cookies sound nice,” I said quietly, “but I really have to catch up on some work today. Maybe another time, okay?”

Her bottom lip jutted out, and my heart ached. I wanted to say yes, to indulge her, to escape for a few hours from the storm raging inside me. But the thought of sitting in the same room as the Del Castros, watching their faces twist in secret fear as if they’d already predicted my every move, made my stomach churn. I could feel my pulse in my throat, my hands cold and clammy. I couldn’t do it, not yet.

Ivan’s hand brushed against mine as we walked, casual but deliberate. A small, unspoken anchor. He didn’t press, didn’t comment, but the heat of his palm against mine made my body react before my mind could catch up. That single touch reminded me of that night, the one we’d never spoken of, the one I’d buried deep in the vaults of my memory because I couldn’t reconcile what it meant.

I remembered how alive I had felt in his arms that night, how he had held me like I was the only person in the world that mattered. How tender and protective he had been, ensuring I was okay, ensuring that I was satisfied, even while taking his own pleasure. The memory was a pang of warmth and shame all at once, a cruel reminder that desire and devastation often walked hand in hand.

And then the next morning, the cold, brutal clarity of everything we’d done hit me. We had crossed lines that could never be uncrossed. And yet, in that moment, I had fallen, completely, irrevocably, for him. I glanced at Ivan as we walked. His expression was unreadable, a mask of calm, but I could sense the tension in his jaw, the subtle tightening of his shoulders.

We passed the quiet streets of the town, and every storefront, every corner, every whispered memory pressed against me like a phantom. Collen had been my home, but it had also been my battlefield. I had fled, broken, humiliated, and alone. I had left behind a life, a name, a place I had called home. And now, ten years later, I was back. Alive. And I could feel every eye, every whispered story, every judgment hovering just beyond the streets, ready to strike if given the chance.

Jessy tugged again at my hand, snapping me out of the spiral. “Please, River? It’ll be fun! You don’t even have to talk to Grandma and Grandpa if you don’t want to!”

I hesitated, torn. Part of me wanted to retreat, to disappear again, to leave Collen behind and never return. But another part of me, the part that had learned to survive, to endure, to fight quietly, knew that running now would only give them the satisfaction of controlling me again.

I exhaled slowly, forcing my fingers to relax around hers. “Another time, Jessy,” I said softly. “I promise.”

Her disappointment was palpable, but she nodded, understanding perhaps more than I deserved. I wished I could shield her from the shadows of my past, from the ghosts of a town that had tried to strip me of everything, from the knowledge of what the Del Castros were capable of.

Ivan’s hand briefly brushed mine again, almost hesitantly, and I felt the ghost of that night stir inside me. I clenched my jaw, pushing the memory away, but I could not deny the pull—the magnetism that had drawn me to him then and still drew me now. It was a dangerous reminder that desire and danger often walked the same path.

We continued walking in silence for a while, the frost in the air biting at my cheeks, my mind a whirlwind of anger, fear, longing, and calculation. I had to stay composed. I had to remember why I was back in town, not for the Del Castros, not for revenge, not even for Ivan, though my heart ached at the thought of him. I was here for Jessy. And I would protect her, no matter what.

The weight of the past ten years pressed on me, memories flashing in fragmented sequences: the whispers in Collen, the cruel smiles, the isolation, the threats, the NDA, the hospital room where I had woken to find them gone, the silent fury that had simmered inside me for a decade. And now, to see them again, alive, pretending, eating, speaking, made my blood boil. How could they sit there, acting as if nothing had happened? How could they feign normalcy when they had cost me everything?

Ivan seemed to notice my tension. He reached for my hand again, gently, almost reverently this time, as if acknowledging my storm without needing words. I could feel his protective instinct, unyielding, and part of me wanted to lean into it, to let him guard me from the world, to shield me from the town, from his parents, from the memories that refused to stay buried.

We passed the quiet neighbourhood where the CPS office was located, and Jessy’s small hand tightened around mine. “River,” she said softly, “are you really okay?”

I forced a smile, though it was brittle. “I will be,” I said quietly, more to myself than to her. “I just… need some time.”

Her gaze softened, and she nodded. She didn’t press further, but I could feel the weight of her trust pressing down on me. I had promised her safety, and I would keep that promise, even if it meant walking through fire, even if it meant confronting ghosts I had hoped would stay buried forever.

Ivan’s eyes flicked to his parents’ house in the distance, then back to me. There was a silent understanding passing between us. He didn’t know the full story of that night, of the months after, of the NDA, of the humiliation and exile I had endured. But he knew enough to sense that the past was not yet settled, that danger lingered in the shadows, and that I needed protection.

I felt a flicker of warmth at the thought. For the first time in a long while, I realized that maybe, just maybe, I wasn’t completely alone.

And yet… the memories of Collen, of the Del Castros, of the hospital, of the betrayal and lies, of the humiliation that had nearly destroyed me, pressed against my mind like a vice. I couldn’t let go. I couldn’t forgive. I couldn’t forget. Not yet.

We reached the corner where Jessy’s grandparents lived. The small house sat quietly, welcoming in the way older homes always seemed to, but I didn’t allow myself to relax. I couldn’t. Not while the ghosts of my past still haunted me, not while the Del Castros were still lurking in the town, not while Ivan’s parents were still capable of unspeakable manipulation and cruelty.

Jessy turned to me, eyes wide and hopeful. “Please, River? You’ll come in, won’t you? Just for a little while?”

I shook my head, forcing a soft, apologetic smile. “I… I really have to work today, Jessy,” I said. “I’ll visit another time, I promise.”

Her face fell, and I felt a stab of guilt. But I couldn’t let her see the storm inside me. I couldn’t let her know how fragile I still felt, how raw the old wounds were, how much I hated Collen and everything it represented.

Ivan’s jaw tightened beside me, and I felt the weight of his disappointment even without a word. His eyes met mine briefly, a silent question, a silent plea, and I looked away. Not yet. Not while the past still had its claws in me, not while the Del Castros’ shadows loomed over every memory, every thought, every heartbeat.

I took a deep breath, forcing myself to step forward, to move past the corner, past the house, past the memories and the ghosts and the pain. I had come back to Collen for Jessy, and I would not let the past dictate my every move. Not completely.

But as I walked away, I knew one thing with absolute certainty: the past was not done with me, and neither was Ivan. The night we had shared, the fire between us, the unspeakable desire and the tender care, it was still there, smouldering beneath the surface, waiting for the right moment to ignite again.

And when it did… nothing would ever be the same.