Something was wrong.

Elijah was smart enough to know that, but Gia kept whatever it was to herself no matter how many times he asked. She’d told him she needed to think, and that she’d tell him when it was straight in her head. Whatever he’d done, he didn’t know how to fix it.

Her mood had improved after she’d woken from her nap, but there was still a tinge of sadness in her eyes. Almost any other emotion he could find a possible explanation for. Disappointment could mean he’d done something wrong in bed, failed to please her. Anger could mean he’d said something thoughtless. But how had he made her sad?

Before she’d had her nap, he’d intended to ask her to stay. Even after the snow storm, he wanted her here, with him. She belonged here, and he didn’t have any intention of letting her go.

But now he wasn’t sure whether asking her would upset her more. Maybe she wanted to go home? Maybe she missed her friends? Not her husband, considering the stories she told about him. But there could be someone else she loved back home. Someone she’d betrayed by being here with Elijah.

He shook his head to clear his mind and glanced up at her. Now, she seemed content enough to knit a lopsided scarf. He had to trust what she’d said was true, she’d tell him once she was ready. Then, he could do something to make it up to her.

“You know what you need up here?” she asked him.

He tensed, ready for her to suggest some other modern convenience, like she had earlier. “What’s that?” he answered, trying to keep his voice steady.

“Chocolate,” she said simply. “It’s after dinner and I want something sweet.”

He relaxed and laughed. “You’re sweet.”

She sent him a teasing smile. “Sometimes. But sometimes I want dessert. You don’t even do much fruit up here, do you?”

He shook his head. “Just enough to make the jam. I’ll consider more for the next planting season.” He didn’t have much space in the garden beds, particularly since each season he left some empty to rejuvenate the soil. But he could make more room beyond for trees or bushes. He definitely would if it would help convince her to stay with him. “Chocolate won’t grow, but the store has some.”

She grinned at him. “I’d like that.”

Elijah let out a relieved breath. Maybe whatever had upset her was only temporary. He hoped so.

His father had gone through odd moods, too. But those had been remnants from his time in war, and had manifested as paranoia and anger, not sadness. It couldn’t be that. The only other person Elijah knew well enough to judge moods was himself. He sometimes fell into inexplicable melancholy, particularly when the loneliness took hold. Gia could simply be experiencing something similar.

As they readied themselves for bed, Elijah nearly asked her again. Stay. Stay with me. But he couldn’t do it, not when he didn’t know what she was thinking.

They made love gradually that night. He got his chance to explore every inch of her with his lips and tongue until she cried out for him to take her. The orgasm came over both of them in a slow, rolling wave of pleasure that crested for an endless moment before settling them back to earth.

As she drifted off to sleep, he held her to him, tighter than before. If she wanted to leave, how could he possibly let her go?

 

 

The wind finally dropped to a more bearable pace, though the snow was still falling in heavy gusts. It was the first sign the storm was ending, and Elijah couldn’t help but be concerned it also meant the end of him and Gia. He still hadn’t figured out what had bothered her the other day, what was still bothering her. The only thing he could think was she was desperate to leave. Leave the mountain, and leave him.

He handed her the dinner he’d made—more soup. She tasted it, looked at him, looked at the dish, then strode to the kitchen and defiantly pinched salt into her bowl.

“You like salt, huh?” he said mildly.

“I like flavor,” she retorted. Then, she deflated. “Sorry, that was mean. I’m just not used to food like this. Most places I ate at back home were full of all kinds of flavors.”

She perched back on the bed. Elijah couldn’t take his eyes off her. “Do you miss it?” he asked softly.

She considered him for a long moment. “Yeah,” she breathed. The word was like a kick to his chest. Of course she did. He shouldn’t be surprised. And yet disappointment filled him all the same. “Apart from everything with Ray, it was a life of ease. Many of those conveniences I could do without. But some? I’m not sure I could give them up.”

Elijah held himself still. “Like what?”

She gentled her voice. “Safety nets,” she said. “Emergency food that’s not too far away. Friends nearby who can help if anything goes wrong. A hospital for emergencies.”

Elijah’s jaw worked. “All the things I don’t have out here.”

She met his gaze, and apologies were written across her features. He didn’t want to listen to her explanations, her judgments, but she kept talking.

“I keep thinking if I lived…in a place like this,” she said, but he wondered if she meant here. With you. “What would happen if anything went wrong? If…the person I lived with got hurt or injured? I’m not equipped to deal with that, not alone.”

“You’d deal,” he told her, even as his gut churned. He fully believed she was strong enough to conquer anything that came her way. She’d survived much worse than this. He didn’t want to hear what else she was saying, what excuses were coming. All he knew was she didn’t care for him enough to stay. Enough to try.

“Maybe,” she said with a nod. “But could I travel two days down a mountain to get help? And then two days back up again? God only knows what could happen in that time.”

“It wouldn’t happen.”

“But you said yourself it might. You’re prepared for it to happen, so I’d have to be as well.”

“Just because I’m prepared for the worst doesn’t mean it’ll happen. It simply means I’m prepared.” His jaw was clenched and anger leached into his words. Anger that felt suspiciously like fear. “I’ve never been seriously injured before.”

“But you’ve been injured. And you’ve been trapped out here without food. You’ve been trapped out there without shelter. You told me all that. Do you expect me to cope with that?”

They’d abandoned all pretext of discussing anything but themselves. Their relationship. Their future. This must have been what she’d been thinking about, what had made her so melancholy.

“If you wanted to, you could,” he said stubbornly. Elijah’s stomach still churned and his insides chilled. Was there a draft in the cabin? She wanted to leave him. What he had wasn’t enough. He’d known it would be the case, but it didn’t stop the slicing hurt through his gut.

She stared at him a long moment. Frustration was written across her face, like she was having an internal debate with herself. Elijah held himself still while she came to her decision, not sure if he wanted to hear whatever came next.

“Would you be prepared to risk a child?” Her voice was soft and small, but the words kicked him in the gut. A child.

“Are you…?” he choked, unable to get the rest of the question out. Before she even answered, excitement crept through him, and a feeling of rightness. His child. With her. Their child. It was like a mantra in his head. The image of her round with his child filled him with such a sense of satisfaction it almost felt real.

“I don’t know,” Gia replied, shattering the illusion. But the echo of it remained, imprinted on his soul. “It’s too early to tell. But we’ve been having unprotected sex, so it’s a possibility. Surely you knew that.”

Had he? He supposed so. It hadn’t been so long since he’d been in the world he’d forgotten how children were created. He hadn’t questioned the idea of having children with Gia because it had simply felt right.

Carefully, watching her, he shifted from his armchair and onto the bed beside her. She eyed him warily, but didn’t protest, so he placed his hand over her stomach.

A child. A dream he’d never even dared to have, it was so out of the realm of possibility. But now it was in his grasp, and he wanted it more fiercely than he’d ever wanted anything. Him, Gia, and a baby. A family of his own.

Her hands came up to cradle his over her stomach. His gaze traveled up until their eyes met. Gia gave him a watery smile, but his heart squeezed at her sadness.

“You don’t want a child?” he asked. “Or you don’t want one with me?”

She shook her head, and the squeezing fist on his heart tightened its grip until the organ was nothing but pulp in its hand. But, then, she sighed.

“I want a child. I want your child. And that’s the problem.”

He stared at her for a long moment, torn between pleasure and confusion at her words. “I don’t understand.”

“I can’t lose another baby,” she told him bluntly, and his heart twisted at her words. She’d already lost so much. “I know sometimes it happens with no fault on anyone. But I want to give any child the best chance of life. If I’m pregnant, I want regular check-ups, and a hospital to give birth in surrounded by doctors, and midwives, to give our child the best start possible.”

“We can do that,” he said automatically.

“How?” she whispered. “You want me to hike two days down a mountain while pregnant for every check-up? While in labor?”

Her words penetrated, and he finally understood what she was saying. Because no, he wouldn’t want her hiking down the mountain while pregnant. He’d want her here, in his cabin where he could keep her safe. Not slipping down steep, rocky hills and sleeping on hard ground. In fact, he didn’t want her doing that even while not pregnant. He wanted her to have all the luxury she wanted.

Luxury he couldn’t give her.

His heart shriveled into dust and he turned away from her. His cabin was revealed to him with a fresh gaze. How small it was. The lumpy the mattress beneath him on the too-small bed. No electricity, or heat. Cold stone floors. Bland food.

And outside a storm still raged, trapping them here. The danger of that, how he risked death every day. No matter how well he planned, the simplest thing could kill him with no notice.

Of course she wanted to leave. Why would she want to stay? He had nothing to offer her.

Nothing but his heart and soul.

But it wasn’t enough, he could see that. And he didn’t blame her, even as the empty place where his heart had been gaped open like a wound.

“Elijah,” she said gently, placing a hand on his back. He didn’t look her way. Her voice shook. “Are you sure you wouldn’t want to live closer to town? That way—”

He stood, and her hand—their last contact—fell away. “This is my home, Gia. It’s the only thing I know.” He braced himself and turned. When he met her stricken, miserable gaze, he wished he hadn’t. It killed him to see her hurting and know he was the cause. His first, desperate instinct was to do anything to take the hurt away.

But how could he do that? He couldn’t promise her he’d leave, go live in a city. He didn’t know that life, couldn’t live it. This mountain was his home, and he loved every inch of it. He knew it, understood it, in a way he’d never understand anywhere else.

And Gia suggesting he live closer to town wouldn’t work, either. He couldn’t tear everything down and move it down the mountain. It would be an impossible task physically, taking everything to a new location, stone by stone. It would take him years of constant labor, even if he could find somewhere suitable. But worse, he’d never survive it, and neither would she. It had taken him and his father years to build the cabin, cultivate the soil for the garden, get everything livable. Gia would leave him long before he finished such a project.

“There’s no reason you have to live like this,” Gia said, desperate.

Elijah’s anger spiked again. “Like what? Off the grid? In a cabin?”

“In a tiny bed, in a tiny cabin, so far from civilization,” she said, her voice rising in equal anger. “With no electricity, and bland foods.”

“I live a simple life. There’s nothing wrong with that.”

“No. Of course not. But I can’t help wondering if you’re stuck, or frozen out here. You haven’t made any changes or improvements since your father died.” She shuffled off the bed and stood, back straight as she stared at him. Her expression was a mix of defiance and fear and anger that made his heart quicken.

“What are you saying?” he gritted out. He didn’t need judgments. Didn’t she understand? His father was all he’d had for five years. And after that his memory had been the only thing keeping Elijah company. For ten long years, this had been his home. It was all he knew. The only thing that held memories of the closest person to him.

“I’m not saying, I’m asking.” She paused, eyes roaming over his face. “What are you afraid of?” she whispered.

“Who says I’m afraid?” The fear-like anger spiked again, harder this time, until Elijah struggled to focus on her words when he couldn’t even breathe.

“It’s like you’re punishing yourself,” she told him, pleading with her eyes for him to understand. “You can live the same isolated life, off the grid, self-sufficient, whatever you want to call it, but with a better quality of life. There’s no shame in wanting something better and more comfortable than what you have.”

“Like what you had?” he growled. “A life of expensive handbags and everything handed to you on a platter?”

She reeled back, and Elijah knew he’d gone too far. He’d lashed out, and she didn’t deserve that.

“There’s such a thing as a middle ground,” she gritted out before he could apologize. Angry tears sprung to her eyes. “There’s nothing wrong with wanting good food and a comfortable bed and nearby medical care. I’ve lived without luxuries, all through my childhood. I know it can be done. But it shouldn’t have to be. Not when you can have better.”

Her words made sense, which made it so much worse. He tried not to listen, not to let them penetrate and settle inside him. If they did, things would change, he’d change. And he didn’t know who or what he’d become. Who would he be without this place? Without his father’s memory?

This cabin was all he’d known for fifteen years. He’d been a kid when he’d been brought here. He had no idea how to function as an adult in the real world. Was Gia right? Was he afraid and making excuses? Or would it be everything he feared?

His chest compressed like he was trapped beneath a stone. He couldn’t breathe. His gut churned.

Elijah turned away from Gia before he said something he’d regret. That wasn’t enough to escape her tearful face as it burned into his mind. He strode the few steps to the storeroom, the one that had once been his father’s bedroom, and pushed the door shut behind him. He sucked in a deep breath of cool air. On the other side of the door, Gia let out a sob, and his heart shattered. He should be out there comforting her, not causing her more pain. But he needed time and distance to think things through or he might blurt out something hurtful he couldn’t ever take back. Words had never been his strong suit.

He shivered from the cold. The fire hadn’t reached this room past the closed door, but Elijah wasn’t about to go back and get his jacket. He needed time away from Gia to think.

He wasn’t used to being questioned, to justifying himself, or explaining his actions. He’d been alone for too long, made choices that only affected himself. Never had anyone challenged those choices, or accused him of being afraid. Was there some truth to it?

Before he could think about what Gia said logically, he had to clear his mind. Not let his emotions cloud his judgment.

He stared at his father’s room, now crowded with random items he needed. Spare food, gardening equipment, hunting gear. All of it his, nothing shared. Not since his father died and left him all alone.

The room was almost like a symbol. A space that used to belong to someone Elijah had cared for, and he’d filled it with things. Work. No luxuries or friends or a lover.

When his father had passed, it had left him isolated in the world, and he’d had to fend for himself. He hadn’t had anyone to talk to, to discuss issues with. Aaron kept pushing for them to catch up over a beer, but Elijah had kept him at arm’s length. He hadn’t listened to any of the man’s suggestions to improve his lifestyle.

Was he afraid? Is that what held him stagnant? Or was this the life he belonged to?

He didn’t know, and the cold room didn’t provide an answer.

Elijah stayed in the storeroom until he was shaking with the chill. He braced himself and returned to the main room of the cabin. The fire burned low, and Gia was asleep in his bed. Where she belonged.

One thing was certain: he didn’t want to lose her. He couldn’t.

He hesitated for a long moment. Should he join her? It was the only place he wanted to be, wrapped around her, but would she welcome him? As he considered her back, the dilemma, everything, the wind outside dropped off in a sudden lull.

Elijah swore he heard a sound that didn’t belong outside his cabin.

People.