Page 129 of Meant for Mayhem

He didn’t answer, turning the car off and climbing out. Leena woke right back up when he opened her car door, already reaching for him. When I didn’t follow, he opened my door too, grinning wider now.

“You’re acting weird.”

He took my hand, practically pulling me toward the front door. The lock clicked, and he pushed it open. The house was empty except for the echo of our footsteps. No furniture. Not even flooring. The walls were still in studs, but I could see what this would someday become.

“I bought it.”

My head whipped toward Mikko, surprised by his words.

“You what?”

“It’s mine,” he said, grinning wider. “I had a real estate agent looking for me earlier this summer before everything changed, trying to find a house that still had a mountain view and would fit Mom’s needs when she comes to visit. But then everything with Leena happened, and it all got put on hold.”

I looked at the house again, noticing the wider hallways on the first floor and what even looked like an elevator. The entryway opened into a spacious room with vaulted ceilings and wooden beams that looked perfect for a rustic mountain home.

“The kitchen will be over here.” Mikko led me farther into the space. “They’re building me a huge pantry, so I’ll have a lot more space than the penthouse. Drink fridge, deep freezer, the works. But what I’m really excited about is the backyard.”

We walked through the living room toward a glass wall I hadn’t realized were doors. Mikko grabbed the handles and pushed until the doors slid over each other. One by one, they slid into the wall making it so the living room and outdoor patio and yard beyond were one big space.

He turned in a circle, arms held wide. “Can’t you see Leena growing up here? Room to play and run and grow?”

I nodded, not trusting myself to answer.

Yes, I could see it.

I could see it perfectly.

Leena racing barefoot across the wide lawn in summer, her blonde hair flying. Mikko chasing her with that rare, full laugh that still caught me off guard every time it appeared. Snow days spent building forts against the fence while the mountains stood watch. Birthday cakes on the big kitchen island. Christmas mornings with the tree already lit before everyone woke up. Quiet evenings on the patio with the doors open, the three of us—no, the two of them—watching the sky turn pink over the foothills.

I could see every single piece of it.

But I couldn’t see myself in any of it.

This house was the reminder I needed that this wasn’t my story. It was a fairytale I’d somehow stumbled into—the temporary arrangement that was never supposed to feel permanent.

Mikko had never once said the words that would make any of this mine. He’d never promised forever. We’d only promised until the season ended. Until my fellowship was finished. Until it was convenient to stop.

I knew how this ended, and yet it hurt worse than any single thing I’d ever felt in my life.

Good things didn’t stay.

People left.

They always left.

So I stood there in the empty house that already felt like a life I wasn’t allowed to want, and I said nothing at all.

26

It was probably dramatic to say that the progress Shannon and I had made in the last few months was gone in seconds, but that was what it felt like. She offered me generic platitudes while I’d shown her around the house, but with each passing moment, I knew I’d fucked up.

“Tell me what’s going on in your head,” I said once we were back on the road, headed toward Linwood. Thank you, Kevin, for encouraging me to say it when I was feeling anxious.

Snow was coming down harder now, the headlights cutting through a near whiteout. I tightened my hands on the steering wheel, hoping we’d make it over Vail Pass before it closed due to weather.

Shannon shook her head, looking out the window. “Nothing important.”

My teeth ground together, my focus on the road, even as my mind went a thousand miles an hour. But between the road conditions, a phone call from my parents to wish us a Merry Christmas, and Shannon putting in her headphones to listen to an audiobook, I let it drop.