Chapter 2: You Let Me In
Chapter 2: You Let Me In
“I was there.
Where fear and desire blur.
No face. No name.
And still… you let me in.”
✽
Two months earlier
EVANGELINE
I shut down the computer and lean back in the chair, stretching my arms and neck.
Closing my eyes, I take a deep breath, enjoying a few more seconds of the absolute silence that fills the cabin. Then I look at my phone on the table, suddenly remembering it exists.
Writing still seems to be the best way to escape reality. It would be a dream to have more time to stay immersed in words. Just forget all the problems.
But unfortunately, I can’t avoid reality forever, especially since the holiday is ending and I have to go back home tomorrow.
With a sigh, I give in and pick up the phone as I get up. The next step is trying to find a signal.
Approaching the glass windows, I raise the phone and start walking alongside them, watching the darkness contrast with the snow that covers almost everything outside.
It’s a little scary at night, almost chilling, but Tess assured me it’s safe. So I didn’t hesitate much when she couldn’t come.
Who in their right mind would turn down a holiday in a cabin by the lake in Aspen? And even with the lake frozen, it was still worth it.
I managed to relax, write a little of the book that had been on hold for ages, and almost forget my idiot boyfriend even existed.
Or should I say ex-boyfriend?
The thought alone makes my chest tighten. As much as I don’t want to admit it, the truth is I miss him, and breaking up is the last thing I want.
Despite everything, I love him. And I’m almost sure he loves me too.
The notifications light up the phone screen above my head just as it finally finds a signal.
One of the messages is from Tess, just checking if I’m okay. I reply quickly, confirming and asking if her mother is feeling any better—the reason she couldn’t come.
The other is from Luke, asking if we can see each other when I get back and saying he misses me.
Has a week been enough for him to reconsider my importance in his life?
Part of me still feels bad, almost wrong, for judging him for prioritizing work. But I’m tired of always being understanding.
I’ve already lost count of how many business trips he’s taken this year. And now, another one—this time, during Christmas and New Year’s. It’s absurd.
The truth is, I don’t know if it’s worth staying together if this is going to last forever.
Deciding to just ignore his message, I head to the kitchen to pour myself a glass of wine.
Tonight, I’ll just keep pretending he doesn’t exist. And thanks to his frequent absence, I know exactly how to deal with frustration.
Leaving my phone on the kitchen island, after hitting play on a soft jazz playlist, I take the bottle with me to the couch.
Since I arrived, using music or focusing on the crackling of the fireplace has helped me ignore the scary noises—like the creaking of the cabin’s wood or the whistling wind outside.
My problem with Luke has also given me a lot to think about. So I almost managed to ignore the thought that I’m alone in the middle of nowhere. Just snow and miles of forest and mountains around me.
Thinking about that is even scarier than the sounds. But the worst part was that strange feeling I had last night, as if I wasn’t alone.
The thought alone is enough to make me shiver. But at least it helped fuel my fantasy and forget about Luke for a few minutes.
✽
I have no idea how many glasses I’ve had. The music has stopped, and only embers remain in the fireplace.
On the coffee table, the bottle is half full, and the alcohol has done a good job warming me from the inside out.
I consider getting up to check if my phone died, but the sudden sound of wood creaking loudly stops me.
It’s just an old cabin, Evangeline, I repeat to myself, trying to calm my heart.
Even with the heater on, the temperature seems to have dropped a little now that the fire has turned to embers.
But my skin still feels far too warm beneath my pajamas. Or maybe it’s just the wine, inciting me to find a better way to distract myself from the fear.
Letting go, I try not to think of him as I slide my hands beneath my clothes.
But it’s inevitable.
And that makes me angry. For wanting him. For wishing my hands were his. Larger and rougher, gliding over my body.
And the fact that his hands are the only ones my body knows besides my own only makes it worse.
I don’t want to think about him. But all I see is his stare, his mouth… and that damn incredible body moving between my legs.
Fuck.
I feel the anger blend with arousal, making me move my fingers harder. Faster.
Panting, lips parted and eyes shut, I arch my body on the couch, feeling my mind sink into the pleasure.
“Good girl…”
The deep, whispered voice breaks the silence, sending a shiver down my spine and vibrating through my body.
I freeze.
