had happened that afternoon. She couldn’t quite name it yet, but it was uncomfortable, a feeling not unlike stage fright—a similar restless energy, anticipation and dread pureed into a nauseating froth that filled her to the brim.
She looked up at the night sky and watched the whirls of snow spotlighted by the parking lot lights. After a full day of snowfall, about four inches or so had finally stuck. The weather app showed snow through the night, with a predicted final accumulation of eight inches.
It was the first significant snow of the year. Elisa had loved snow, more than most. Her whole outlook brightened and she was simply happy every time it snowed.
“Can we walk for a while?”
Alex took her hand. “Sure. Where to?”
“The beach?” Elisa had especially loved the beach in fresh snow, the contrast between the slate-grey surf and the bright white over the sand, the way the snow swallowed the rush of the water and turned it to a whisper.
Lia loved it, too.
Alex cast a skeptical eye at her hot pink Wellies. “The beach is more than a mile from here. And then back to the car. You sure?”
She kicked up a boot to display it. “Just because they’re cute doesn’t mean they’re not practical. They’re lined. They’re warm. Probably warmer than your duck boots.”
He chuckled and looked down at his practical brown boots. “Yeah, okay. Let’s walk.”
His gloved hand wrapped around her mittened one in a snug, bulky clutch, and they stepped onto the sidewalk and headed to the beach.
As they walked, Lia pondered a question that had lurked in the shadows of her mind for a long time and rose up every now and then to be considered. She was afraid to ask, really. She and Alex had been a couple for months now, since October. She thought of their relationship as broken into two parts: before Christmas and after. Actually, she’d come to think of her whole life that way: Before Elisa and After.
Before Christmas, she’d felt sorry for herself because she’d lost college and was home with little to do but feel sorry for herself. Alex had been the one bright spot in her life.
After Christmas, she, like her the rest of her family, had been buffeted by grief, and her whole life was consumed by the loss. Alex was the one bright spot, and that brightness had taken on a tinge of need—and guilt.
From the day he’d first kissed her to today, she’d been sad about something—either indulgent self-pity or honest grief.
She could spend an hour listing all the reasons she loved him, because he offered himself to her every day.
But what, exactly, did she offer him in return? Why did he love her?
Now, with that froth of fretful anticipation filling her to the top, she had to know.
“Why do you love me, Alex?”
“Hmm?” he said, distracted. He’d been watching the snow fall while they walked. Then he must have replayed her question, because he stopped and stared at her. “Please? Why would you ask that?”
“I don’t …” She’d been about to say she didn’t know, but that wasn’t true. “I don’t know what I give you to make you love me. The whole time we’ve been together, I’ve needed, and you’ve given.”
First, he stared at her, expressionless. While she watched, his features narrowed and creased. She’d pissed him off, and she watched that emotion evolve from frustration all the way to true anger.
“What a fucking question,” he snapped. He dropped her hand, then turned and walked on in the direction they’d been going.
He’d never acted like this with her before. For a few steps, Lia stood where she was, unsure if he meant to walk away from her. Deciding it didn’t matter, she hurried and caught up with him. She needed to know—or, at least, she needed to know why the question made him so mad.
They walked to the end of the block without touching or exchanging another word. In that tension, the crunch of their steps through the mounting snow seemed thunderous. Lia thought she might actually be sick if his sudden sulk went on much longer.
Again, she was afraid to speak. What if this new, wonderful thing she had, the one bright spot in a life that had gone dim, was thin as a soap bubble, and no more lasting?
When he stopped at the corner and checked the street—he always took his time, noticed all the parked cars as well as any moving—he took her hand again, and they