Page 19

First Snowfall

“To uncondition, one must recondition.

Maybe I will never truly master the art.”

—Ivy

F all passed rather quickly this year.

The New England weather is mysterious like that, never truly knowing when a season will come to an end or the next will begin until you wake up one day and it’s here.

The chronicles of my fucking life.

I always thought I’d run away to a brighter and certainly warmer state the first chance I got, but the desire eventually dissipated as the years went by and my company grew.

My soul connects with the seasons; we have certainly become one, especially these last few months.

With Red gone, I feel like I can breathe a little easier at times; in others, I feel suffocated and on the verge of a mental breakdown.

I know there can never be a content and happy Ivy living a mundane life if Red is involved.

That’s like mixing oil and water and hoping there is no separation.

It will fail every single time, no matter how you mix them together.

Since her exit, I’ve been manipulating my thoughts over and over, trying to convert a truth to a lie.

I miss her .

Our relationship was healthy in many ways, toxic in others, but a life without her feels like I have lost a physical part of me, a core connection in my circuit board.

Obviously, pieces of my life before were mundane, but she’s allowed me to live outside those barriers and truly explore the part of me within that carried me, created me, and protected me all those years.

She’s had a huge hand in making me successful, and it is her I should be thanking for all we built in this world.

Lately, I’ve been slacking without her.

The torment of not having her anymore has thrown me off my game, and I am questioning if her eradication was the right thing or the beginning of my company’s undoing—my own undoing.

The guilt eats me alive.

What I miss most about her is the freedom, the lack of constantly needing to be in control over everything, the lack of perfect calculations, although yes, she was very calculated.

It was with freedom and happiness in mind, not structure and consequences from improper thought processes.

I’ve fought my whole life to be normal, and it doesn’t feel as I thought.

I feel bored, trapped, suffocated.

She loved me and gave me everything the world took from me; in ways, she showed me it’s ok to be different and off-centered.

Most days without her, I can’t seem to find my center at all.

Her biggest gift ever was the sense of security she brought me, and maybe her way of not fighting back that night was her saying I am finally ready to have that within myself within just Ivy.

The sun came up an hour ago.

I’ve just been lying in bed twiddling my thumbs and thinking, running so much through my head.

Liam is still asleep as I should be, but the nightmares have been holding me hostage.

Not just the usual, new ones, new memories, new terrors, new trauma she safely guarded me from.

I’m not surprised he isn’t up yet after his long day yesterday helping a fellow townie with some carpentry work.

He’s never been an early riser, plus he got in super late last night.

I haven’t been sleeping well; my vivid dreams every night are getting worse and worse; possibly, it’s Red trying to communicate with me.

Regrettably, today is no exception.

Things have been good since the night Liam and I had our long conversation, and I truly am happy, I think.

I wish I knew how to be comfortable with happiness, okay with simplicity, and fulfilled with just him, but I’m not.

Maybe I’m still just adjusting to it all.

You can’t undo years in a few months.

Tayden still hasn’t reached out.

It’s not that unusual for us, but this time feels different.

I can’t shake the unknown waters we are charting.

A feeling as if we both knew that it would be the last time we’d be face-to-face.

We live our own tragic sonnet on repeat; it’s poetic really.

That’s what poetry is at its core: words laced with tragedy by the hand that inscribes them, the mind that replays them, and the heart scared by its letters.

Slowly sweeping over our weighted blanket, I finagle my way out of bed quietly.

Like clockwork, my L.L.

Bean fur-lined slippers are waiting to hug my feet, sliding both in always my right before my left.

Some Red traditions die hard.

I find solace in the warmth as I shuffle from our bed, quiet as a mouse, not to wake him.

It’s extra chilly this morning.

Grabbing my robe hanging from our bedpost, I swiftly wrap it around me.

I need to check the pellet stove.

I secure my robe with my signature half-knot when suddenly, I catch a glimpse of something out of the corner of my eye.

Could it be? Cautiously, I walk over to the window facing the back of our property; slowly, my fingers slide the gray curtains apart fearfully.

It is.

Kisses from above flow and glide in the wind, the tall pine trees lightly coated with winter fairy pixie dust.

It’s beautiful how the snow brings such dimensionto the trees, unlike other seasons.

Usually, they are three-dimensional, but when the snow coats them, I see them in fourth-dimension.

It’s breathtaking.

The way the morning sun makes them glisten like they were strung with hundreds of Christmas lights overnight.

Standing here, I soak up its beauty.

My mind begins racing, and I know what I’m thinking is wrong, but the urge is too strong as I look out, captivated by the view of the cold. Sliding my feet from their cocoons of warmth, I place each foot on the hardwood floors. They are freezing like I had hoped, and in that very moment icicles, course through my blood while crashing with the warmth of my skin, and I can feel him inside of me, all around me and beneath me. I am frozen and surrounded by the cold once more. A gasp releases from my mouth, my eyes lost in the dark, taking in the sting from below. I fight it, but the urge is too powerful, and flashes start racing through my mind; his chest, my bare skin, the arching of my neck as he comes up for air, grazing his lips across mine, his eyes gazing into mine like the world could melt away and he wouldn’t even blink twice. My hand laying over his chest, the beat of his heart vibrating, devouring my soul, my fingers running through that jet-black hair. The memories of diving into the car together, the cabin, and my chest buried into the edge of the tub floor as he destroyed me in all the best ways. The rage of the glass against my back as he feasted on me, and the excitement in his eyes as he looked onto his two loves. The feel of the RPMs as I taunted him, and his tone when he says, I love you, Ivy Sage Rutledge . Cascades and floods of images and noises flash before my eyes, every moment of us replaying over and over. Snapshots of our history penetrate my every thought. His hand sliding down my body, slowly yet firmly teasing as he stares at me— God, those brown fucking eyes— making his way centimeter by centimeter, enjoying the angst it creates in me, pausing just as he reached my throbbing clit that yearned desperately for his touch. Then, he does the one thing that sends fire coursing through my veins, and I’ve lost all control.Gliding his frozen fingersdown between my lips, slowly going in and out inch by inch, teasing and taunting me, looking up to watch as I quiver and relishing inwhat his hands do to me. Taking his time,turning the warmth inside of me into the glacier of him, I am now consumed by the cold, and he owns me. Goddamn , Tayden. Fuck me, take me now. I am yours, I beg.

“Good morning, babe, miss me that much already?”

leaves his lips startling me.

My eyes shoot open, coming to the realization that Liam is awake.

Fuck.

He just caught me playing with myself, one hand down my pants rubbing and groaning while my other wrapped around my own neck to the thought of the cold—the person behind the cold, Tayden.

The warmth returns to my body, but all I want to do right now is be frozen in time forever.

I quickly secure my robe back around me, turning to him.

“There he is.”

I giggle, avoiding any conversation about what just transpired.

I’m mortified and embarrassed; shame starts to consume me, and guilt follows.

It’s not that I am not happy with Liam.

I am so in love with him.

I know I should say something, but I can’t because this is the first time in months that I have succumbed to my urges, and I need to give myself some grace.

You can’t change overnight .

Years of doing takes years of detangling, and one failure is not enough for me to tell him.

It would do more harm than good.

I’m so tired of bringing harm to those whom I love.

I deserve it, they don’t.

“I think the pellet stoves went out last night, babe; you know I hate the cold.

Could you please fire them back up for me?”

Another lie.

I fucking love the cold, but lately, I’ve been trying to avoid it altogether, especially with winter rearing it’s ugly face.

Judging by my actions a few moments ago, I need this house at ninety for the rest of the season.

I find it sardonic that what once brought so much joy, the cold, is now enemy number one to my everyday happiness.

I am not weak; it will not win.

The cold always subsides, eventually.