Page 108 of Snowed Inn

Ellie frowns. “What?”

I angle my head, studying her through the haze. “Were you ever even really sick?”

Her mouth falls open. “What? Why would I pretend to be sick?”

I drum my fingertips against my arms. “So that Jesse and I would have to spend more time together?”

Her eyes widen. “Yes! I was sick!” She looks slightly affronted.

I exhale. “Geez. That’s a relief.”

“But,” she adds quickly, wincing, “not exactly the whole time.”

I slowly turn my head to look at her. “What?”

Her wince intensifies. “I sort of . . . dragged it out longer than I needed to.” She gives a small, guilty shrug.

I sit up straight. “Ellie!”

“You wouldn’t have stayed through New Year’s Eve if I’d told you I was better by the twenty-eighth.”

I gape at her. “Oh. My. God.”

El doesn’t even flinch. “It was for your own good.”

I let my head fall back against the wall, sighing dramatically. “You are so lucky I love you.”

“I know.”

We sit in silence for a moment, the heat pressing in around us, sweat beading on my forehead. I feel . . . weird. I don’t know if it’s the temperature or the fact that I’m actually reflecting on all of this for the first time. After that one night where I nearly bought a ticket home, I kept myself super busy in LA specifically so I wouldn’t have to reflect.

Ellie clears her throat. “I’ve been struggling with whether to tell you this, but I think I have to. Just in case it makes a difference.”

I don’t move, but my heart picks up speed. “Tell me what?”

She hesitates, and that’s how I know whatever she’s about to say is big.

“Jesse hasn’t been himself since you left.”

My throat is dry. But it’s not because I’m sitting in a sauna. I exhale sharply, shaking my head. “It doesn’t matter.”

Her eyes narrow. “It doesn’t?”

“No.” I shake my head harder, like I’m trying to make myself believe it. “It was fun for a week at Christmas, but now it’s over. It was never going to work between us.”

Ellie watches me carefully. “Maria.”

I groan. “What?”

Her gaze sharpens. “I think you need to take a good, hard look at your history with men.”

I roll my eyes. “Oh, here we go.”

“No, really. Think about it. You always go for guys who look good on paper.” She makes air quotes. “They check all the boxes. Fancy jobs, big salaries, designer suits. But what do they actually have?”

I shrug. “I don’t know. Stability? 401(k) plans?”

Ellie shakes her head. “No. No heart.”