With the main slopes roped off and reserved for competitors, Emma headed to the section of the mountain left open for the recreational skiers.
She couldn’t remember the last time she’d had to rent a snowboard and boots, but it didn’t matter. Boots on, board in hand, Emma made her way toward the chair lift, through the families and groups of friends enjoying the cloudless day and amazing weather conditions. Holiday music blared from the outdoor speakers, and the smell of hot chocolate and roasted chestnuts from the outdoor café at the base of the mountain made her stomach growl. She hadn’t eaten since they’d left the resort that morning, but she couldn’t trust her nerves to allow her to keep anything down.
Right after this run, she was heading to the café.
It would be her reward for actually surviving.
At the chair lift, she hung back, allowing several groups and pairs…couples…to get on before her.
“Lone rider?” the attendant asked.
She nodded.
He waved forward another skier and stopped the chair. “You two together,” he said.
With one foot strapped into her board, she climbed on first before she could chicken out.
The older man sat next to her and smiled. “I haven’t skied in years. Hope I remember how.”
“Like riding a bike,” she said.
He nodded, turning his attention to the scenery below them and making idle small talk that she was only partially paying attention to as they rose higher to the top of the mountain.
It was a level two slope, a run she could have completed with her eyes closed and hands tied behind her back three years ago. Now, the height and angle of the hill looked slightly paralyzing as she placed her other foot against the back binding and skied off the chair onto the top of the mountain.
“See you at the bottom,” the guy yelled, skiing off.
Great.
Arms out straight over the board, she moved slowly away from the chair lift. Choosing a quieter spot at the top, she dragged the toes of her back foot along the snow to stop the board and stood staring at the hill. It was an easy run for her. Or for her former self.
She could do this.
The cold snowy breeze at the higher altitude did nothing to cool her, and her heart pounding in her ears drowned out the festive sounds around her, as she strapped her other foot into the board.
All she had to do was push off, and a simple thirty-second run later, she would be done. She’d have proven to herself what she’d been claiming all along and maybe, going forward, she could snowboard recreationally. She could reclaim her love of the sport without it controlling her, and she could go to Florida with more confidence.
She was suddenly alone at the top, and she forced determination into each breath.
She could do this…She was all alone. No one was watching, expecting anything from her.
All alone…
Except for the familiar-looking ski jacket to her right as Asher climbed off the chair lift and headed toward her.
Damn.
* * *
“Asher? What the hell? Your leg is not healed enough for you to be up here.”
“My leg is fine.” It was his heart that was a mess. And his mind. “I thought I’d find you here.” She hadn’t been anywhere else, including the resort. He’d spent hours after leaving Frank searching the village for her. Unsuccessful, he’d walked part of the way back to the resort, hailed a cab the rest of the way, then shuttled it back down to the village when she hadn’t been in their room, at the pool, or the resort restaurant. The ski hill was the least of his leg’s exercise that day.
“I’m not up here with any plans to compete,” she said, apprehension in her voice.
“I don’t expect you to,” he said. After talking to Frank, he was finally hearing her. He’d also started to realize that the reason he needed her to hold on to her dream a little longer was so that he wouldn’t feel guilty holding on to his. Which was unfair. If she wanted to pursue the doctorate degree, he’d support her one hundred percent.
Emma was smart and determined and driven; she’d be amazing at anything she tried.
“What are you doing up here, Ash?” she asked, brushing her hair away from her face.
God, she was so beautiful, so determined, and so pissed. He swallowed hard. “I wanted to tell you I’m sorry. I was wrong. I was wrong to try to tell you what you should want out of life. To make you feel bad about your decision to quit and walk away. You did what you wanted to do…and I should have supported that.”
Her expression was unreadable as she stared down the mountain.
“Emma, I said all of that because I’m terrified of what you moving on means for us. No, not for us—for me.” He paused. “I need you.” He hadn’t realized how much she filled his life until her absence left him with a big, hollow space that made his chest ache, clouded his mind, and drove him to a dark, lonely place. Which was why he was so damn terrified of her going to Florida. If one afternoon at odds with her had left him feeling this empty, this desperate…How was he supposed to live without her if things changed for her once she started her new life?
Waiting around for a self-centered jock who was focused solely on his career wouldn’t be enough for her.
“Which me do you need? The best friend who always supported you, believed in you…loved you?” she said. “Or the me whose body you could always depend on whenever you passed through town?”
The harshness of the words made his stomach turn. She couldn’t honestly believe that he’d only been using her these years…Though what other impression could she take away from his actions? From his unwillingness to commit to the only situation in his life that had ever made sense? From his own harsh words and critical judgment of her and her choices? He moved closer. “All of you. My best friend, my lover…and the woman that I’m falling in love with.” He knew it was far more than his own insecurities making him feel this ache for her. He was in love with her. Probably always had been.
She blinked, and he could see tears forming. “Asher, you are scared of losing me, and for the first time you’re realizing just how big of a part I am in your life. But that’s not love. It’s a fear to move on, to find something…someone else…It’s an uncertainty you’d rather not face.”
She was wrong. How could he make her see that he meant every word? That he loved her. That his life, his career, his dream meant nothing without her to share it all with. “That’s not it. I know I messed up. I know I was blind for so long that I might have missed my chance, but Em, I love you.” There, he’d said it, and there was no taking it back. He didn’t want to take the words back. “I’m not me without you.” He reached out for her, but she backed away.
“Asher, I’m not sure I can do this with you. You were right that I was afraid to face my fears, and that’s what I’m trying to do. First with this mountain, then with the PhD program.”
With Sean Whitney. But not with him. She was too smart to make that mistake again.
“I’m not ready to be hurt by you,” she said softly, her voice barely audible above the breeze.
He gripped his ski poles as he took a step away from her. “Right. Yeah, no, I understand.” He did. He was too late. He’d been an idiot, a fool who didn’t realize what he had until it was too late. Then he’d hurt her further. She deserved to find happiness with someone who would see the bright light she was from the moment they saw her, touched her, kissed her…
His heart ached to be that guy, but years of not being who she needed stood in the way. “Okay. I’m sorry. I’ll go.”
“Ash…”
He stopped, a flicker of hope in his heart as he turned to face her.
She looked as tortured as he felt, and he longed to grab her and kiss her and make her believe that she hadn’t been wrong to put herself out there for him. That he wanted her fully, completely, and was willing to sacrifice anything to make it happen…but he just stood there waiting. Hoping.
“I really don’t think you should be on the slope. This is a level two, and you’ve never successfully skied it even when you weren’t recovering from an injury,” she said.
Right. She was concerned about his leg. She really would make a terrific doctor. He didn’t doubt that for a second.
“And your big game is in a few weeks,” she said, her voice devoid of anything he could grasp onto.
His big game. The one that suddenly no longer seemed to hold as much meaning. “Don’t worry. I’ll take the trail down,” he said, skiing away from her, leaving her alone to take on this challenge she needed to do for herself, deserved to do for herself.
He walked away from her, giving her the space she needed to soar.