Page 93 of Snowbound

Jake.

Jake

Emma, where are you?

Emma, I need you.

Emma, I’m sorry.

I feel sick just reading the messages, knowing I’m really not who he needs at all, and he doesn’t mean any of this. He can’t stand knowing someone doesn’t worship the ground he walks on and wants to make things right to save face. Jake is toxic. I know that now.

I wouldn’t admit this to Owen right this second, but maybe he was right to block Jake.

Maybe I needed someone else to draw the boundary I couldn’t.

Goddamn it.My chest aches. I need to get over this.

Then the last message comes in.

Sent an hour ago.

Jake

I’m on my way. We have to talk

My stomach drops. How the hell does he know where I am? I booked the cabin with my own card. Of course, it wouldn’t take a genius to trace it.

He found me.

Jake is here.

Panic spikes, sharp and hot.What am I going to do?I don’t want to see him.

There’s a sharp bang at the door, and for one crazy moment, I imagine it’s Owen—big, solid, and steady.

Protective.

But when I glance out the window, I see black hair and a familiar brown coat.

Jake. That fucking loser.

I yank the door open. He stands there, shivering, looking like he’s about to freeze his skinny little ass off in the middle of nowhere.

“What are you doing here?” I snap.

“I came to find you,” he snaps back. “You’re my wife.”

“Wasyour wife.” I shake my head, sick to my stomach.

“Go away, Jake. I don’t want you here. You’re not welcome,” I spit. “You don’t get to show up like this.”

I move to slam the door—but his hand shoots out, forcing it open. I stumble back.

Jake’s eyes narrow. “What the fuck are you wearing?”

I look down. I’m still wearing Owen’s hoodie, still warm from his body.

“None of your goddamn business. I said get the hell out of here!” I scream. But of course, he marches in.