Page 33 of A Winter Romance
“I thought you said it was a time for remembering,” he said miserably.
“It is a lot of things,” she said matter-of-factly. “But perhaps you should tell me about your fight. Perhaps having someone to listen might help. Then we can work out how to make everything right again.”
She led Aryn to a couch and pulled him down beside her, wrapping an arm around him.
“I’m sorry, Odara.” He closed his eyes. “But I don’t think this can be fixed. Sero hates me. And he should. I don’t know what I was thinking. It doesn’t matter anyway. I go back to Bordertown after Solstice.” Although, how he was going to get back without Sero, he wasn’t sure.
“Is that why you were fighting?” she asked. She still had her arm around him, comforting him even though he didn’t deserve it.
“I suggested he come and live with me in Bordertown. But he hated the idea. He wanted me to stay here and live with him.”
“And you hated that idea?”
“Well… It’s not so simple. I can’t just stay here. My parents wouldn’t tolerate it.” He remembered what Sero had said, about how Aryn worked so hard to impress his parents when his parents clearly didn’t care about him. “I don’t know. I can’t just leave.”
“Can’t you? People leave and move all the time.” She tilted her head and studied him. “Are you happy in Bordertown?”
“I guess.” But that wasn’t the truth. He was miserable there. He was a terrible perfume alchemist, and his family treated him horribly.
“No. I’m not happy there. But… I can’t just give up on it all. Can I?”
“It seems like you are at a crossroads. A choice between Sero and your previous life.” She paused. “One thing to consider is, do you think you could be happy here in Ores? It’s not Bordertown. Just a small village in the mountains. It’s calm and peaceful but dull to many. Even many who were born here have left in recent years. It’s not for everyone.”
He looked out the window into the darkness. “I’ve been happy here with Sero, happier than I’ve ever been. He is so wonderful, but it isn’t just him. It’s the people, Sero’s family, the village. In some ways, I feel like I belong here. Like I’m accepted in a way I’ve never felt before.
“Back in Bordertown, I always feel like I’m failing. Like I’m never good enough, no matter how hard I try. I don’t feel like that here.” He took a shaky breath as the cold truth washed over him. “I’ve made a mistake,” he whispered, closing his eyes and dropping his head in his hands.
Odara patted his knee. “There, there, young one. Mistakes can be fixed.”
“But…what if he doesn’t forgive me? I said some things… I made Sero feel terrible.” He’d made him feel like he wasn’t good enough, just like his own family had always made Aryn feel.
“Don’t worry. Solstice is a time of forgiveness and love. Solstice is many things.” She nodded and stood. “But perhaps you need to show him what he means to you.” She squinted as if thinking and then nodded. “You should bake him a loaf.”
“What?”
“You know of Solstice gifts, of course?”
Aryn touched the Solstice berries pinned to his shirt. His Solstice gift from Sero.
“Did Sero tell you of the different types of gifts?”
“He mentioned it.”
“Well, a loaf of bread gifted to someone can be a sign of love and devotion. It communicates a desire to care for and nourish the other.”
“But I don’t know how to bake a loaf.” He always just did what Sero told him to do in the kitchen. And if this was him begging forgiveness, he at least didn’t want to give him something inedible.
“I will instruct you.” She walked down the hall to her kitchen. “But it is important that you make it yourself!” She pulled out jars. “I’m sure the effort will melt his heart and make him forgive you.”
He returned Odara’s smile, but he wasn’t nearly as confident.
ChapterTwenty-Three
Aryn’s palms sweat, which was ridiculous considering the snow drifting through the air. Perhaps if the loaf had come out better, Aryn would be less nervous. But after spending hours fretting, mixing ingredients, kneading dough, and anxiously watching it bake, all Aryn had to show for it was a misshapen loaf.
It had risen unevenly. And somehow the middle didn’t seem properly cooked, whilst the edges were charred. It also seemed like it had sunk on one side. He’d wrapped a red ribbon around it, but the bow looked deflated and sad.
And it was on this loaf that all his hopes rested. A Solstice gift. But a dilapidated one.
