Mitch searched the pockets of his ski jacket for the third time. Still no sign of his cell phone.
Fantastic.
Somewhere between skiing down the trail that morning and his trek back to the cabin with what was now cold pizza, he’d misplaced his phone. Probably when he’d replayed Mo’s messages for the dozenth time.
He wasn’t ready to face her again, but he couldn’t stop listening to her messages. Her voice—filled with a vulnerability she didn’t often show—tugged at his heart. Made him want to forgive her of everything.
But how could he trust her when she’d hidden something so important from him?
Mitch had been down that road before. It hadn’t ended well.
A little more than a year ago, he’d left Cincinnati, where he’d settled after college, and moved to Atlanta to be with a woman he cared about. It’d taken less than six months to realize that what he thought they shared was a lie.
Mitch had been devastated.
He wouldn’t run that risk again. Especially not with Monique—the woman he’d dreamed of spending his life with.
Mitch huffed. A storm was on the horizon. If he’d lost his phone on the mountain, they wouldn’t find it until spring.
He reheated a few slices of pizza and grabbed a beer. Before he took his first bite, keys jangled in the door. Ray had apparently made excellent time ahead of the storm.
Returning the uneaten slice of pizza to his plate, Mitch wiped his hands on a napkin, then opened the door.
He caught Monique as she fell forward, her arms overloaded with grocery bags.
“Mo, what’re you doing here?” Once she regained her balance, he took the grocery bags from her and set them on the counter. “Ray will be here any minute.”
She retrieved her luggage from the front porch, then shrugged off her coat. “No, he won’t. That’s what I came to tell you.”
“We talked this morning.” Mitch tried to slow his heartbeat, pounding from the shock of Monique falling into his arms and the feelings her nearness stirred.
“That was before the airports closed. He can’t get out today and doubts he’d be able to get out tomorrow. So he’s going to stay put. He’s been trying to call you for hours.”
“Misplaced my phone.” Mitch massaged the tension in his neck. “You really drove three hundred and fifty miles just to tell me Ray can’t make it?”
“No.” Her cheeks flushed and she dropped her gaze for a moment before returning it to his. “I had to see you. I screwed up and I’m sorry. You have every right to be angry.”
Mitch shoved his hands into his pockets without a response. The pain bloomed fresh, like the reopening of an unhealed wound.
She stepped closer, stopping just short of touching him. “But all I’ve ever wanted is to be with you, Mitch. So I’m here asking you to forgive me and to not give up on us.”
Heart racing, he swallowed hard. “Sorry, Mo. It isn’t that simple.”