had to shove down the urge to run out after her and bring her back. He’d come here to tell her everything and ask for her support, but clearly, that wasn’t going to happen.
He shook it off, stepping away from the view and striding back into the suite. He’d find something to do. Gabe had always been able to find something to do—he’d never needed another person the way he needed Anna now. In fact, he couldn’t keep needing her this way. It was entirely outside the bounds of what they’d agreed to, and no matter how many times she kissed him back, there was no guarantee—
Maybe it will be okay. The thought came paired with an image of Anna sitting close to him on the couch, cuddled into his side. If she listened to what he had to say, and if she told him it would all be okay, if she laughed—then maybe it would be.
12
Anna had told a small fib in her note to Gabe. She’d been to a ski hill once but hadn’t done more than a couple of runs. Her parents had fought and cut the visit short, never mind that they’d driven up into the mountains just for the experience. And wow, had things changed since she was a kid. Her knees felt wobbly, and her butt burned after a single trip down the bunny slope.
“You’re doing great,” Tana called out as she made an excruciatingly slow snowplow move to stay close to Anna.
They’d gone down again and again, and Anna noticed it was getting smoother on the descent, even if it was slow. It wasn’t enough to keep up with everybody else on the slope. Tiny kids went by on either side of her, Tana cheering them on by name. More than a few of the children had jingle bells clipped to the zippers of their jackets, identifying the students so the ski staff would be there to offer extra cheer on the slopes.
The perfection of the scene in front of her made her want to shrink into her ski coat and disappear. Not because she thought Tana shouldn’t cheer for them—she should. She was a great teacher, and the cheerleading was part of it. But Anna simply couldn’t fathom a childhood where she’d have had regular vacations like this, with enough ski lessons to be incredibly good at it. It embarrassed her.
If she and Gabe stayed together—which they wouldn’t—she might be able to find that kind of time. She would have the ease of all the others. Eventually, people wouldn’t be able to tell her apart from the rest of the family, or the guests.
That was the dream, wasn’t it? It hadn’t been when they’d taken off from Vegas, but now that she was in the middle of it, it was tantalizing. A sense of belonging and home. To have no more connection to her childhood.
It was like movie theater popcorn. She never thought about the wildly expensive treat until she was standing in line to buy a ticket. Then she found it nearly irresistible. Unlike the popcorn, obviously, she couldn’t buy a little taste of being Gabe’s wife. This was it. This was the taste, and it was all she would ever get.
Chase came down and cut by on the left, moving down the bunny slope in a slow, broad curve.
“Head up, Elkin,” Tana hollered, causing him to throw back his head and laugh.
He’d taken skiing so far that he’d gone pro, and after a terrible accident, ended up here. The Elk Lodge was his fallback plan—the place he’d always be able to come home to if he wanted. A home. “What’s on your mind?” Tana asked. She’d turned her full attention back to Anna and slowed down even more to match her speed. “You look distracted.”
If anyone understood, it would be Tana. From what Anna had learned about her, she knew Tana was in a similar situation—though. “They had a good childhood, didn’t they? The Elkin boys,” she clarified, nodding her head in Chase’s direction. “He looks happy.”
Tana smiled. “He looks happy now, but there was a long while there where he wasn’t skiing, and happiness was in short supply.”
Anna had a brief flashback of a news item she’d seen one day on her morning stroll. It had featured Chase and his accident and buzzed with a kind of hopefulness she hadn’t quite trusted. They’d seemed confident he would overcome his injuries and return to competition. So far, he’d recovered, but