Page 109 of Seal the Deal

Despite the embarrassment, despite the hangover, I feel lucky. I have Jake, my kids, and we’re about to spend Christmas together in a beautiful setting. Everything feels right.

***

The road stretches ahead, winding through snow-covered forests and towering pines. The kids are fast asleep in the backseat, their small heads bobbing with each gentle movement of the car. Jake's hands are steady on the wheel, his focus on the road as we drive deeper into the mountains.

It’s been about an hour since we left Denver, and the landscape has transformed into something breathtaking. Snow blankets everything, making the world feel still and quiet, like we’re driving through a postcard. I glance over at Jake, noting the way his jaw is set, his brow furrowed slightly as he navigates the turns.

“You really love it up here, don’t you?” I ask, watching as his expression softens, gaze briefly flicking to me before returning to the road.

“Yeah,” he says, a small smile tugging at his lips. “It’s my haven. I’ve been coming here for years, bought it early in my career. It’s the one place where I can just be me.”

I rest my hand on his thigh, offering a silent connection. "Everyone needs a place like that."

He’s quiet for a moment, eyes still focused ahead. “I’ve never brought anyone here before,” he admits. “It’s always been mine. But I wanted to share it with you. And the kids.”

A warmth spreads through me, settling deep in my chest. “That means everything. To all of us.”

He nods, but there’s a weight in his silence, something unspoken still hanging between us. The road winds higher, the mountains rising around us like giants. I can feel him retreating into his thoughts, so I squeeze his knee gently.

“Wanna talk about it?”

He exhales slowly. “I’ve been thinking about my mom.”

The sadness in his voice tugs at me, and I give him space to continue. He’s mentioned her struggles with depression before, but I know it’s a sensitive subject.

“She’s better now, but it’s still there, you know? That weight. She’s never come to a game, never feels up to it. Too many people, too much pressure.”

My heart aches for him. I know how much he’s wanted her to be part of his life, to share in his successes. “That’s hard. But she knows how much you love her, how much you’ve done for her.”

He shrugs, the gesture small but heavy. “I hope so. Sometimes, I feel like no matter what I do, I could do more. I’ve offered to bring her to games, to have her in the WAGs box with Claire and Tamara, but she’s never felt brave enough. I just want her to know she’s not alone.”

“You’re a good son, Jake. Don’t doubt that.”

He nods, the tension in his shoulders easing slightly. “I’m trying. And I guess that’s all I can do.”

I squeeze his knee again and he reaches down to run his thumb in circles over my knuckles. We fall into silence, but it’s a comfortable one this time. The cabin is getting closer, and with it, the promise of a few days away from the world.

As the road flattens out, we turn onto a private driveway, and I spot the cabin nestled at the foot of the mountains. Snow blankets everything in sight, untouched except for the road we’re carving through. The cabin looks like something out of a storybook—warm, inviting, with smoke curling from the chimney.

I unbuckle my seatbelt and turn to check on the kids, who are now wide-eyed and staring out at the snow as we pull up.

Meadow’s little hands press against the window, her breath fogging the glass as she whispers, “Mama, look! It’ssnowing! Can we play?”

Noah leans forward, taking in the view with wide eyes. “It’s sowhite. I’ve never seen snow like this before.” He reaches for the door handle, unable to hold back any longer.

“Hold up, bud,” Jake says with a chuckle, glancing at him in the rearview mirror. “Let’s make sure we’ve got all our snow gear on. Don’t want you turning into ice cubes before we’ve even unloaded the car.”

Both kids groan, but the excitement in their faces is contagious. Christmas in New Zealand was always warm—beach days, barbecues. This snowy wonderland is new for them, and seeing their joy makes my heart happy.

As we step out of the car, the cold mountain air bites my cheeks. I wrap my arms around myself for a moment, letting my breath cloud in front of me as I take it all in.

The landscape is breathtaking, the snow-glittered hills leading up to towering peaks under the fading light. There’s something about it that tugs at a memory, a familiarity in the way the mountains cradle the valley.

The smell of pine and the crispness of the air brings me back to the camp where Jake and I first met. It’s a little like that—vast and full of possibility—and for a moment, I feel like we’re those kids again, staring out at the world with our whole lives ahead of us.

Jake wraps an arm around me, pulling me close as we look out over the snow-covered valley.

“It’s beautiful, isn’t it?” I murmur, looking out.

---