Chapter 2

Baxter spoke gently. "You know I love you. The wedding is just a formality. When we get back from Amberbridge, I'll make it up to you. I promise, this is the last time."

I've heard that line eight times already.

"Okay." I nodded, picked up the wedding dress, and walked toward the bedroom. "Go pack your bags."

"You're really okay with this?" he asked, surprised.

"Didn't you say life should be free?" I looked back at him, and for the first time, I didn't look for answers in his eyes. "Baxter, just go do what you want."

*****

When I woke up the next morning, the spot beside me was already empty.

I picked out a soft knit sweater and put it on.

I bought it three years ago, but Baxter always said it wasn't fit for the outdoors, so I hardly ever wore it.

On the way back to my parents' place, I rolled down the car window.

The chilly autumn breeze swept in, and it snapped me awake—something I hadn't felt in ages.

As soon as the car stopped, I spotted my mom chatting with our neighbor Shirley by the gate.

Shirley was beaming. "I've been looking forward to Lorelei's wedding for years. I've even got my gift ready."

"You have to be there. You watched her grow up." My mom's eyes crinkled with laughter, and she was holding a bag of groceries she'd just bought.

For a moment, I just stood there, my feet feeling glued to the ground.

It took me a while before I finally walked over, trying my best to sound upbeat.

"Mom, Shirley," I called out.

"Lorelei, you're back? Where's Baxter? Isn't he with you?" my mom asked, glancing behind me.

"He's got something to take care of today," I said.

I took the plastic bag from my mom. "Shirley, we're heading home now. We'll have you over another day," I said.

"Sure, go on then," Shirley said with a smile.

I hooked my arm through Mom's and headed home.

We walked in silence the whole way.

As soon as we walked in, she fixed her gaze on me. "Spill it. Is Baxter causing trouble again?"

I opened my mouth, but all the words I'd rehearsed just got stuck in my throat.

Just then, the door swung open and my dad came in, toolbox in hand.

After retiring, he got really into woodworking. He always said he wanted to craft my wedding furniture himself.

"What's all this about?" Dad asked.

"Dad, Mom, the wedding's off. Actually, it's not just the wedding. Baxter and I are done for good," I said.

The living room went quiet for a moment.

"I've been saying he couldn't be trusted," Dad said, his voice dropping. "Was it his idea?"

I shook my head. "It was mine."

Then I started opening up, telling them everything that had happened over the years, one piece at a time.

My mom's eyes grew teary, and she suddenly sprang to her feet. "I'm going to confront him. Ten years of your youth, just wasted like this..."

"Mom," I called out, reaching for her hand to stop her.

As I held her hand, I realized mine was trembling, but my voice came out steady.

"It was my choice to wait for him all these years. And now, it's my choice to stop waiting," I told her.

"But we've already sent out the invitations, and all our family and friends. What are we supposed to tell them?" Mom said, her voice trailing off in worry.

"Why not just turn it into my thirtieth birthday party instead?" I suggested.

Dad stayed silent for a long moment, then finally nodded. "Alright, your thirtieth birthday. We should really do it up right."

I didn't leave home until evening. By the time I made it back, night had already fallen.

*****

When I opened the door, Baxter was wearing headphones, chatting away online, totally caught up in whatever he was saying.

He didn't even notice I was back.

I quietly changed my shoes, grabbed a glass of water, and headed into the bedroom.

There was still a photo of us from last year in Frostland sitting on the nightstand. I'm bundled up in a thick down jacket, and my smile looks kind of forced.

I remember I was burning up with a fever that day, but I just kept pretending I was fine to not ruin his good mood.

It was the middle of the night, and I was barely awake, caught between dreams and reality.

Baxter shook me, practically bouncing with excitement as he called out.

"Lorelei, our gear's here. Get up, let's check it out!" he said. "These new extreme cold suits can handle freeze temps. We can finally camp out all night."

He turned on the bedside lamp, and the harsh light made me instinctively shut my eyes.

"Baxter," I croaked, my voice rough, "it's two in the morning."

"Just try it on, will you? If it doesn't fit, we can always exchange it," he said, still buzzing with excitement.

I sat up, noticing the wild excitement still flickering in his eyes, my voice icy. "I'm not going to Amberbridge."

"What?" he blurted out, totally thrown off.

"I said, I'm not going to Amberbridge. If freedom is what you want, go chase it on your own," I said.

The excitement on Baxter's face froze, turning into annoyance. "What are you making a fuss about now? Didn't we settle this already?"

"That was your deal, not mine. I'm done talking. I'm going to bed," I said coldly.

I lay back down, turning my back to him.

I didn't know how long it was before he left the room.

When I woke up, he was asleep on the couch.

Back then, whenever he was sulking, he'd always sleep on the couch.

I let out a quiet sigh, draped a blanket over him, got dressed, and headed out to meet the real estate agent.

I set my sights on a sunny, south-facing apartment—open the window, and you're greeted by the lively pulse of the city.

"I'll take it," I said.

I signed my name on the lease agreement.

On my way back, I popped into a flower shop and grabbed a bunch of sunflowers.

The moment I pushed open the door, arms full of sunflowers, Baxter was in the kitchen, making dinner.