Page 12 of Mended Fences

Peter had been charming in college, fun and a little wild. We met at a party Tessa had dragged me to sophomore year. He doted on me—bought me lavish gifts, took me on extravagant vacations. And being seen on his arm made me feel special, especially when he was so eager to show me off and shut down any other man who spared me a glance.

It wasn’t until years later that I saw it all for what it truly was.

My entire existence had been reduced to being an accessory on the arm of a powerful man.

I blamed my daddy issues for not seeing the innumerable red flags from the very beginning.

But the final nail in the coffin of our marriage didn’t come untilten months ago when my mother passed away. It was like heknewI no longer had anyone in my corner to fight for me.

But he was so fucking wrong.

Iwould fight for me.

“Need a break?” Chase asked when we got to the bottom of the hill. He’d taken it gracefully, carving into the side of the mountain with ease. I shot straight down it like an arrow, earning shouts and glares from fellow patrons.

“No. Let’s try again.”

Chase chuckled and held out a hand to help me from where I’d fallen on my ass to stop myself. I unclipped a boot to waddle toward the lift.

“I’ve got an idea that might help this time, if you’re willing.”

“Can’t get any worse,” I muttered.

“You’re doing fine. Ignore the pretentious dicks who think they’re god’s gift to the snow.”

Chase guided me toward the ski lift, his hand hovering at the small of my back. The metal bench swung toward us with a mechanical whir. My stomach lurched as we were swept off our feet, dangling high above the pristine snow.

The winter wind nipped at my cheeks, carrying the crisp scent of pine.

“So, what kind of doctor are you?” Chase asked as we ascended the hillside.

“Emergency.”

“Good in a crisis. Excellent quality.”

“I like adrenaline.”

Chase’s eyes sparkled with interest. “Must see some wild things in there.”

“You have no idea.”And some things I wish I could unsee.Likethe night six weeks ago when a woman came in, bruises flowering across her ribs, arm broken in two places. Her husband had been so apologetic, crying about how he’d never meant to hurt her. I’d seen that scene play out too many times before.

And most recently, at home.

The lift crested the hill. Chase helped me dismount without face-planting, his gloved hand steady at my elbow.

“Okay, here’s what we’re going to try.” He positioned himself behind me, hands on my hips. “You’re fighting the board. You need to work with it, let it guide you down naturally.”

His chest pressed against my back, and despite the layers between us, heat bloomed across my skin.When’s the last time a man’s touch didn’t make me want to crawl out of my skin?

“Bend your knees more,” he murmured, applying gentle pressure to make me sink lower. “That’s it. Now when we start down, I want you to lean into me. Trust that I’ve got you.”

My throat went dry. Trust wasn’t something that came easily anymore. But as Chase’s hands shifted to grip my waist more securely, I found myself relaxing into his solid presence.

“Ready?” His breath tickled my neck beneath the wool of my hat.

“Ready.”

Chase guided me down the slope, his strong hands anchoring me as we carved back and forth across the hill. The wind whipped past, carrying flurries of snow that sparkled in the winter sun. My body settled into a natural rhythm, following his subtle shifts in pressure.