Page 48 of Frost
“I’ll get out of your hair now,” he says before heading out of the room.
I follow him down the stairs and to the front door, holding it open as he steps onto the porch. He turns back to me before going far.
“I want you to hear it from me and not see it on social media or something.” He brushes his fingers through his hair again in a nervous tic. “I’m kinda seeing someone now. He’s no one you know. I met him while jogging at the park, and we went out for coffee. He’s nice.”
He looks like he expects me to be upset about it.
“I’m happy for you, Colton.” And I really am. “You deserve someone who will treat you right.”
“Thanks.” He goes to step away but stops. “You do too, you know. Deserve someone.” A smile spreads across his face. “I only hope whoever he is can stand being second best to Jack Frost.”
Colton doesn’t even realize how spot-on he is with that statement. For the rest of my life, I’ll compare every man I meet to Jack.
After he steps off the porch and goes to his car, I close the door and lean against it. Staying in that spot for all eternity is tempting. There’s a hole in my chest where my heart should be, and even breathing is hard. But life goes on.
And so will I.
***
The visit with my parents cheers me up more than I thought it would. They ask about my trip and if anything exciting happened.
“I got lost again,” I admit, much to my mom’s horror. “Don’t give me that face. I’m alive.”
“And with a scar on your head to prove it,” she counters before lightly slapping me on the arm.
Dad laughs. “How’s the book?”
“Almost done. I only have three chapters left.”
The thought of writing causes a pang in my chest, though. Jack read over my shoulder so many times as I wrote at the cabin. He told me more about the gods he’d met over the years and gave me ideas on how I could incorporate it in future books.
Two days without him feels like a lifetime.
When I get home in the evening, I brew a pot of coffee and take a cup to my office once it’s done. Painful or not, I have a deadline and need to finish my book. It’s just my luck that it’s a sad scene. Which, in a way, works in my favor. Heartache, I can write. It’s the other stuff I’d struggle with right now, like happily ever afters and tender moments.
I read over the last chapter I wrote before diving in.
Varik has just betrayed his own father in order to save Jack from a grisly death at the hands of the army of the dead. The dark forces disperse as Varik sends them back to the underworld. In a rage, Hades charges toward Jack, hell-bent on stabbing him through the heart.
But right before the blade can hit its mark, Varik steps in the way.
“No!” Jack cries as the blade pierces Varik’s chest. He runs forward and catches Varik as he starts to fall. Tears burn in his eyes. “Why?”
Varik softly smiles and touches the edge of Jack’s jaw. “Because I was wrong. Love isn’t for the weak. Standing beside you? I’ve never felt stronger.”
I stop typing and wipe at my eyes. Goddammit. I’m such a horrible person for writing this shit. But, unlike reality where Jack and Varik’s story would’ve ended tragically with Varik staying dead forever, I know I’ll make it right in the end.
If only I could write the ending to my own story. Maybe then it’d be happy too.
A tap sounds at the window, and I whirl around.
I stand from my chair and go over to look outside, but all I see is the tree beyond the glass and the dark sky above it. Movement on the tree branch catches my eye, and I damn near shove my face against the glass to get a closer look.
Probably just a bird, I convince myself before going back over to my desk.
But I could’ve sworn I saw a flash of silver and blue.
“Come on, Luka,” I mumble, plopping back down in the chair. “Wishful thinking won’t get you anywhere.”
