Page 3 of It’s Me, but Different (Merriweather Sisters #3)

Esme

My son Theo won't stop talking while his sister jumps nervously from one foot to the other, both so hyper from the hot chocolate and adrenaline that I know getting them to sleep tonight will be mission impossible.

“Mom, did you see the size of these beds?” Ana Sofia shrieks as she enters the room she'll share with her twin brother in the suite they've assigned us.

I simply shrug and smile. I love seeing them this happy. It's been two very hard years. Losing their father at such a young age has to be very difficult, and every time I saw the sadness in their eyes, it broke my heart.

For them, the two weeks we'll spend at Silver Peaks are a great adventure.

For me, it's been a trap. I don't know if Sloane is involved or not.

She assured me she wasn't, and I want to think she's not lying.

But it's still a trap, no matter how I look at it.

If it weren't for the kids, I would have already left.

The promotional offer arrived in my inbox as a surprise, accompanied by a phone call from someone named Julie.

She spoke to me in a very friendly tone and promised me unforgettable days in the snow.

When I asked if the price was correct, she explained that the resort was looking to expand its reach to families with small children.

I remember blinking several times when I saw the offer; it was too good to be true.

And of course, now I know it wasn't.

However, it fit perfectly with the twins' winter vacation dates, so I said yes before thinking about it more.

I was so focused on my children that I didn't research it. If I had, I would have realized that this place is owned by the Merriweather family, which obviously includes her too.

Theo jumps and bounces off the bed, though he doesn't seem to get hurt because he runs to the small living room of the suite, where he stops dead in front of the welcome basket.

“Mom, there's candy!” he shrieks, getting his sister's attention.

Part of me wants to pack right now and find another hotel. Another voice in my head reminds me of the twins' joy. I can't take them away from here just because I don't feel comfortable every time I run into Sloane Merriweather.

I bite my lower lip painfully as I remember how everything ended between us. I thought we had the perfect relationship. I was tremendously happy by her side. And one day, out of nowhere, she simply told me she couldn't afford distractions while pursuing her dream of winning an Olympic medal.

Distractions?

Was that what I was to her? Just a distraction?

Being abandoned that way by the woman I loved when I was barely over twenty was devastating.

For me, it was almost as if my whole world ended.

I don't know if she's ever been aware of the damage she did to me.

I prefer she doesn't know everything I suffered.

She got her Olympic medal, yes, but as if by karma, she seriously injured her knee before the world championship two years later and never competed again.

It was a very hard time, though the pain gradually faded and life went on.

When I finished college, I found a different kind of love with Luis.

Less intense, certainly, but also more serene.

Now that I've seen Sloane again, I don't even know what to think.

It still hurts, I thought I had gotten over it completely, but I haven't.

And the worst part is that feeling of curiosity, that sensation of wondering what would have happened if she hadn't behaved like such a selfish person.

Maybe we've both changed during these eleven years.

“Can I eat this, Mom?” my son asks, pointing to some sweets from the basket.

“Just a little. We have to go to dinner.”

Something about this place, possibly the decoration or the snow-covered mountains, fills them with energy.

The old Esme would be really furious about the deception that brought me here, I think I would have even slapped Sloane without even knowing if she had anything to do with it or not.

Instead, you can tell I've matured. Now I decide to wait and see.

If River and Anika organized this, they must think Sloane needs to close that chapter.

I'm not naive enough to assume we can pick up where we left off. I don't want to either; Sloane is part of my past. A very beautiful part until she left me, I admit, but it's over forever.

And yet, it would be stupid to deny that this morning, when I saw her on the ski slopes, I didn't feel anything for her.

A knock on my bedroom door pulls me from my thoughts. Ana Sofia pokes her head in, her dark hair covering her eyes.

“Mom, it says here they have a game room on the second floor with arcade machines. Can we go see it?” she asks, waving a hotel brochure in the air. “There are babysitters for children under twelve,” she adds, as if anticipating my possible resistance.

I practically let out a sigh of relief. Some time to myself while the kids are entertained and safe won't hurt. Since Luis died, my whole life has revolved around them.

As soon as I leave them in the game room, I wander aimlessly through the hotel until I reach a terrace from which you can see an excellent view of the mountains. At least, that's what a wooden sign announces.

When I step outside, the cold Montana air hits me like a slap. The sun is starting to descend, and the wooden sign wasn't lying about the views. The snowy mountains begin to be painted in orange or pink tones, creating a spectacle of wonderful color.

Out here, everything seems to be silent, and for some reason, it brings back memories of my college years, when I thought Sloane was the love of my life.

On a sunset similar to this one, she pointed her finger toward the snowy peaks and told me about her Olympic dreams. Her ambition was contagious, though of course, back then I didn't know that ambition would be exactly what would destroy our relationship.

I shake my head to get those thoughts out of my mind and remind myself that I'm still here, not lost in the past.

I hear footsteps behind me and turn around. A couple comes out hand in hand onto the terrace to look at the views and take some photos. They whisper sweet words in each other's ears while kissing, and I can't help but feel a little envious as I return inside, giving them privacy.

In front of the game room, I watch the twins playing and smile. Theo cried for hours when his father died. He was desperate to find answers I couldn't give him. Ana Sofia tried to be brave, said she would take care of me. Seeing them laugh is wonderful.

“Mom, Miss Merriweather told us this morning that you skied very well in college,” Theo murmurs when we return to the suite, full of doubts about his ski lesson tomorrow.

“Well, I don't know if very well, but she was certainly much better than me. Do you know she won an Olympic medal? Not everyone can say they're being taught to ski by someone of that level.”

“She seems very nice. And she's super pretty,” Ana Sofia adds, making my heart skip several beats.

Sometimes, I wonder if Sloane regrets her decision or if she thinks it was worth it. I think I'd like to ask her, though I don't feel I have the right to dig into the depths of her heart. And I'm not sure the answer wouldn't hurt me too much, opening wounds that have been closed for years.

I approach the window, and the night sky at Silver Peaks is spectacular.

It almost seems like you can touch the stars with your hand.

Luis loved watching them. He pointed out constellations, making up stories for the kids.

I sigh, and in the darkness of the night, I whisper a promise to him.

If he can hear me from somewhere, I assure him I'll try to give our children the life he would have wanted.