PENNY

A sense of déjà vu settles over me as the wind howls louder, rattling the windows, threatening to break through the thin panes of glass. This storm is running rings around the one from the night before. It's louder, darker, and more fierce. And if I'm being honest, it scares me. At least with Chase here, my nerves are a little less on edge than they'd otherwise be.

Amongst the turmoil outside, the cabin feels smaller and more intimate, especially with the long shadows cast by the fireplace. My mind is still rushing, a tangle of thoughts and worries swirling around, just like the storm.

Kyle, Chase, us.

It's not supposed to be this complicated, but it is.

I curl up at the end of the couch, warmed by the fire and merlot in my hand. Chase has once again offered to cook dinner. He says he enjoys it, but I suspect he's still feeling some guilt about earlier. Since then, he's been quieter than usual. I'm not sure whether he's giving me space, or the cold shoulder. Either way, he's overreacting to the whole snowbank situation. Not that I didn't want it to happen. Maybe I did. But I really don't know what I want right now. Yet, I can't deny how my body reacted in the moment. My body's betrayal has sent my mind on a wild goose chase, forcing me to ask questions I really don't want to answer.

Did I ever really love Kyle?

It's been gnawing at me since he left me at the church. Part of me feels guilty for not being more... shattered by it. I should be mourning the end of our relationship, right? The five-year plan, and the future that followed. But I'm not, at least not in the way I expected. There's no overwhelming grief, no sense of devastation. I've barely even cried. Instead, I'm more relieved than anything else. Maybe that makes me a sociopath? Or perhaps deep down I knew this was inevitable?

And then there's Chase.

Downing the last of my wine, I head to the kitchen for a refill. I stop at the table, placing the glass next to the bottle. He moves around the kitchen like he's some sort of fancy Michelin-star chef, sprinkling herbs and seasoning from high above the saucepan, while humming a tune to himself.

He's different from Kyle in so many ways. Quieter, more thoughtful. Something stirs inside me, something that wasn't there with Kyle. Or maybe it was, but I buried it deep, not wanting to see if for what it was.

Chase finally notices me. "Want a taste test? It's pretty good, but I could use a second opinion on the seasoning."

"Sure. What are you making anyway?"

"Just something I threw together," he says with a lopsided grin. Chase scoops some of the dish onto the wooden spoon and blows to cool it before bringing it to my mouth. "Careful, it's hot."

"Mm, that's good." A heavy gust of wind thrashes at the kitchen's window and I pull the throw tighter around my shoulders. "Let's eat in front of the fire tonight."

"Good idea," he says nodding. "It'll be done in a few minutes. Go, relax. Have another glass of wine."

You don't have to tell me twice. I pour a large glass of merlot and head back to the couch while Chase finishes up in the kitchen. A few minutes later he places our meals on the coffee table and sits beside me.

"So," I say, piecing food onto my fork. "How bad do you think the storm's going to get?"

"Hopefully it'll pass through the night again, but your guess is as good as mine."

"I guess you'll be stuck here another day at least then," I reply with a grimace.

Chase attracts my focus and continues to hold his gaze. "I could think of worse people to be stuck with."

There it is again. That flicker of something that's between us. My stomach flips and I pull my gaze back to my plate, but I can feel him still watching me. What would happen if I stopped holding back, if I just... let it? Let us happen.

But then there's Kyle.

My chest tightens. How weird would it be if something did happen between Chase and me? They're brothers, for crying out loud. What would people think? What would Kyle think? Not that he deserves a say in this, but still... it's messy. Complicated.

And yet, here I am. Sitting in a cabin, with Chase, eating dinner as if any of this is a normal everyday occurrence. Instead of the strange situation that it truly is. And maybe it wouldn't be so weird if things had been different. If Kyle hadn't walked away, and if Chase hadn't been there all along, quietly waiting.

I shake my thoughts away and focus on the food in front of me.

After dinner, I head back to the kitchen to do the dishes while Chase sets up the DVD player. Tonight, he can choose something since he put up with my romcom last night. It's only fair, after all. Once we're all cleaned up, we settle back on the couch watching the thriller he's selected.

I'm not familiar with this type of film, and when the first body is found dead in a pool of blood, I huddle up closer to Chase. But he doesn't seem to mind. The lights behind us seem to flicker, reflecting off the glass from the older television, but it steadies off again. Then a few minutes later they flicker once more.

Howling winds outside roar, shaking the cabin, as if it might pick it right up off its feet. The lights flicker again, and the room goes dark, except for the orangey hues of the fireplace.

"Chase," I say, my voice quivering.

"It's OK, Pen. We just lost power. That's all," he says, reassuring me. He rubs an open hand on my back.

The windowpanes shudder, like someone banging against them, trying to break in. The cabin shakes furiously. A whimper escapes me. I can't control it.

"Come here," he says, pulling me in closer. "We're safe, I promise you. I won't let anything happen to you."

I look up at him. "You don't know that."

A small smile curls at the corner of his lips. "Trust me, Penny. I've got you."

I scowl at him, irritated by his calmness, but his smile doesn't fade. I hate that he thinks my fear is something to be shrugged off. "It's not funny, Chase. Being caught in a storm is my worst nightmare." I pause. "You wouldn't understand since you're not scared of anything." His forehead crinkles. "Well, that's not true at all."

"What do you mean?"

"I have my weaknesses, just like anybody else."

"What are you afraid of then?"

"You wouldn't believe me if I told you, so... let's change the topic."

"No, stop right there. Tell me," I say sternly. He frowns. "Is it heights? I bet it is. That's nothing."

"It's not heights," he says, deadpanning.

"Well, snakes then?"

He shakes his head. "It's not snakes, either. Let's just move on now."

"No, I want to know. Why won't you tell me?"

Chase runs a hand through his hair. "Fine, if I tell you, will you let it go?"

I shrug. "Yeah, OK."

Sighing, he says, "Risks."

"What do you mean, 'Risks'?"

"I mean I hate taking risks. I'm probably the most risk averse person you will ever meet. If there's a chance something could go belly up, then I won't take it. Never have, never will. Happy now?" "Well, that's just stupid," I scoff at him.

"It's self-preservation, actually."

I sit back, holding his gaze. "And how is that working out for you so far?"

For a moment, his expression shifts, smile fading as he looks down at the fire. My question hit harder than I expected.

"Not great," he admits. "But it's safer."

"Safer isn't always better, though. I mean, sometimes the biggest risks have the best rewards."

His eyes meet mine again, and everything around us fades into nothingness. The storm, the darkness, even Kyle. It's just us. Maybe I'm the one who needs to take a risk. Maybe I need to let go of the fear, the guilt, and just... feel this.

"Perhaps you're right," he says in a low whisper. This vulnerability is new, and I'm not quite sure what to do with it.

I don't say anything. I can't. Instead, I lean into him, resting my head against his shoulder. His arm tightens around me, and for the first time in days, I feel settled. Like maybe this is where I'm supposed to be.

The wind howls outside, rattling the windows, but in here, under this blanket, with Chase's steady presence beside me, the storm feels far away.

I close my eyes, letting the crackling fire and the rhythm of Chase's breathing lull me into a strange kind of peace.

Maybe Chase isn't the wrong choice. Maybe he's been the right one all along.