Page 97 of Seale the Deal

Wrenley studies me, and I wonder if I revealed too much or not enough.

I think it’s a beautiful way to live, she says softly. Since coming here, I haven’t missed the noise of the city as much as I thought I would. I can finally hear myself think. It’s peaceful.

But could you do it forever? I ask.

She considers this for a second, then says, Yeah. I think I could.

Our eyes lock, and my chest aches with how much I want her.

I know I shouldn’t start building a future on a single sentence, but it’s hard not to. I can imagine turning the spare room into a space for her sewing. I can see us at Walter’s coffee shop with Remi, laughing over coffee or complaining about the snow. I can imagine a future where her leaving is no longer a sure thing, even though I know I shouldn’t.

A grunt sounds from behind the fence. We both turn. Dopey steps forward, his eyes fixed on the bucket, clearly offended we haven’t fed him yet.

I drag a breath in and force my attention to the reindeer. My heart is still beating too hard, my chest still feels tight, but I needed the interruption. I was starting to let myself believe in a future that could never happen.

Want to try? I ask.

What do I do?

Just hold it out. He’s a sucker for a snack.

Wrenley takes a handful of feed and timidly holds it out. Dopey sniffs her hand before nuzzling into it.

She giggles, light and bright. Oh my God! It tickles!

When the food’s gone, Dopey lets out a dramatic huff and stomps one hoof, clearly angling for seconds.

Alright, settle down, I say, laughing.

Wrenley looks up at me, her cheeks flushed and eyes bright, and I forget to breathe.

God, this woman is beautiful.

I’m not just talking about her physically. I’m talking about how every last little bit of her is perfection personified. The way she wholeheartedly throws herself into things, like feeding these reindeer. The way she laughs big, even though life tried to take her down a peg. I enjoy her curiosity and her questions about Alaska. I’m in awe of her passion for sewing. I realize all these things stopped being observations and just my favourite parts of being near her.

This isn’t just about proximity. It isn’t just passing attraction. If someone asked me tomorrow to stop wanting her nearness, I wouldn’t know how.

Ready for part two? Peter interrupts the moment.

For a second, I had forgotten that Peter was coming back. I’ve been too busy realizing that without a shadow of a doubt, I’m falling for Wrenley. And while the falling part feels inevitable, the scary part is knowing that no matter how much I want her, I still want the future she’s dreamed about more. Even if that takes her away from me.

What is part two? Wrenley asks, looking between Peter and me.

Peter’s eyes sparkle with mischief. He hasn’t told you? Oh, you’re in for a real treat.

Forty minutes later, Wrenley is pressed to the glass, eyes wide, mouth open in wordless awe as the jagged peaks and ice-blue veins of the rivers below unfold beneath us as we fly over in Peter’s helicopter.

I glance down at our hands locked together between us.

She grabbed for mine the moment we lifted off, her fingers clamped so tight I wondered if she thought the force of her grip alone would keep us airborne. Now her hand is still in mine, and I don’t want to let go. I already know I’m going to crave this feeling again all too soon. I already miss it before it’s gone.

The helicopter dips slightly as we begin our descent, skimming low over the icefields and powder-dusted crevices. Wrenley lets out a breathy laugh that sounds half-scared, half-thrilled.

I squeeze her hand, letting her know I’m still here. She squeezes back.

It’s like landing on another planet, she whispers.

She’s not wrong. Below us, the world is nothing but untouched snow and ancient ice. The wind whips tiny flurries into the air, and the sun glints off the glacier’s surface like a field of diamonds.