Page 45 of The Comeback Road (Leaving #2)

Lexie

Outside, the ground was layered in snow—the kind that muffled sound and added a silent stillness to everything.

I lay in bed, cocooning myself in blankets that seemed to shield me from the real world.

The dim glow of my lamp on my bedside table barely seemed to penetrate the dark corners of my room, the flickering shadows dancing across the walls like ghosts of happiness I could no longer remember.

I wanted to reach out and touch them or join them, but I couldn’t yet decide.

It was Christmas Eve, and the excitement that used to fill me with joy only seemed to deepen the weight I carried around, reminding me that life was still moving, but I just felt stuck . Put on pause, unsure of what came next.

I could hear Magnolia and Sloan bustling around downstairs.

The sounds of laughter and the clinking of dishes echoed up through the old wood floors and invaded my sanctuary of blankets and ghosts.

Magnolia had stopped by her room earlier when she delivered lunch—another pasta with feta cheese and cherry tomatoes that was so good I’d found myself going down to the kitchen to ask for seconds.

“Everyone’s coming over tomorrow for Christmas.

Dexter, Remi, Raya, Remi’s new roommate—who I haven’t met yet.

Oh, and Luke. I hope you don’t mind that I reached out.

I couldn’t think of him in that hotel by himself on Christmas.

” Magnolia’s eyes had been bright and excited when she brought it up, so I hadn’t told her that I wasn’t speaking to Luke after he refused to give me any information on Zed—he’d just kept reiterating that it wasn’t my concern, and my part of the mission was completed.

I hadn’t told her that I just wanted to sit up there, alone, with my blankets and shadows and keep my mind blissfully blank.

That if I started to think, all I thought about was the sound of his bones breaking, the way his breath cackled as he took the last one…

I hadn’t told her that I feel like I didn’t belong there anymore.

So, I just nodded, neither confirming nor denying that I’d make an appearance, my silence speaking louder than any words I could have attempted.

Now, with the clock ticking just past 11 p.m., the house, despite its late hour, was humming, alive with the spirit of Christmas, while I was choking on it.

I rolled over, staring at the ceiling, trying to fall asleep, but my dreams felt like distant memories that were there, but unreachable, somewhere beneath the veil.

A loud bang had me jolting upright, heart racing. What was what? I strained to listen, to decipher the clatter that was reverberating through the walls. It was rhythmic, precise, calculated. It was…hammering.

At 11 p.m.?

I slipped from outside my sanctuary. My feet hit the chilly floor, and I shivered as I made my way to the window.

I pulled back the sheer curtain and peered through the frost-covered glass, trying my best to see if I could see anything. The moonlight radiated off the snow and illuminated the porch below, revealing a figure that was bundled in layers of winter clothing, working diligently and quickly.

Is that Jace?

Even though I couldn’t see his face, I knew it was him. A warmth spread through my chest, and I had to fight the urge to bite down on my lip at the intrusion as I battled that feeling back down. What is he doing out there?

I couldn’t help but watch while he worked, my eyes finally adjusting. He maneuvered tools in the cold, and his breath was visible in the frigid air, creating little clouds that I found myself watching and counting.

He breathes, I breathe.

He breathes, I breathe.

What is he doing down there? I felt a rush of curiosity, and I pulled on a sweater and crept downstairs as silently as I could so I didn’t wake up Magnolia or Sloan.

I opened the front door, and the warmth of the house gave way and seeped into the chill outside. Space heaters hummed softly, and I was surprised I hadn’t noticed them from my room, but my entire focus had been on Jace.

“Jace.” My voice was a little shaky, but he moved instantly, looking up. Surprise flashed across his face, but it melted quickly away into concern.

“It’s cold out here. You need to be inside”—he started to unzip his coat—“or here, take my coat. The space heaters are enough.” The space heaters were absolutely not enough. It was December—in Maine . I had thought the winters in Iowa were brutal, but they didn’t even compare.

“No, keep it…I just…heard you. What are you doing?” I asked, my voice scratchy from weeks of barely using it.

A guilty look crossed his face. “Shit, I’m sorry. Did I wake you?”

I shook my head at him. “No, I don’t sleep much anymore.” The guilty look turned crestfallen, and he stepped toward me. But I couldn’t , so I backed up. “What are you doing out here?” I asked him again.

“I’m just finishing the deck before I install the swing.” He looked almost embarrassed at his confession.

“Swing?”

“The porch swing. Well, your porch swing. Magnolia sent me your Pinterest board, and, uh…It’s almost done.” It was the middle of winter in Maine . Has he lost his mind?

“It’s winter.” I pointed up at the sky as flurries were falling to make my point. “You can’t…You shouldn’t be doing this in the winter.”

“That’s what the space heaters are for.” He shrugged, as if it were no big deal.

“My swing?” I couldn’t help but look at the scene from a new perspective. Space heaters to hang a swing. Outside. In the snow. It even looked like we had gotten at least six inches in the last few days. It was absurd , absolutely crazy.

And for the first time in weeks, I smiled.