The Shuddering by Ania Ahlborn

Author:Ania Ahlborn
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub
Tags: Speculative Fiction Suspense
ISBN: 9781480516649
Publisher: 47North
Published: 2013-01-01T08:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER SEVEN

April wiped at her eyes as she stumbled through the snow. She cursed herself for crying, the cold air stinging her cheeks as she staggered into the featureless landscape. Swiping at her eyes with her sleeves, she swallowed her sobs, wondering whether she had overreacted; maybe what she had sensed between Sawyer and Jane had been nothing but her own jealousy, insecurity, imagination. It wasn’t as though she’d caught them in the shadows of an empty room.

But the way he looked at her, the way his voice went softer when he spoke to her; it made April’s heart ache. She could see it plainly on Jane’s face: she and Sawyer were sharing some hidden secret.

The snow was deep, nearly up to her knees in places, but she was determined to keep going, if only until her heart untwisted itself. She had no idea how she was going to face any of them again. She’d embarrassed herself, especially with Ryan, sobbing like some hysteric. But the emotion had overwhelmed her—a deluge of frustration that had splintered into temporary insanity. And now Sawyer’s Jeep was stuck in a ravine, they were snowed in for God knows how long. Those people wouldn’t want anything to do with her again. And Sawyer…

Another sob burst from between her lips.

The way he had taken back the ring, no protest, no anything—Sawyer wouldn’t marry her now. She had seen the look on his face, uncertainty veiling a ghost of relief. She had shown him the darkest part of herself—the anger and jealousy that occasionally took hold of her, consuming her like a fire. It had startled him, and now he’d call the whole thing off, baby or not.

With the snow as deep as it was, each step was an effort. Her expectation of reaching the highway began to dwindle. Her toes began to burn. She wondered whether this was how it felt to be lost, alone, spiraling toward some inevitable fate. The endless expanse of white, the silence, the solitude were overwhelming. She stifled another cry, twisting to look over her shoulder. The road leading up to the cabin was gone, and she wouldn’t have had any idea which direction she had come from had it not been for her tracks. But it was that path that pushed her forward despite the cold. When Sawyer became worried enough, it would be easy to find her. And that was what she wanted. Despite her anger, she wanted him to see how far she’d stalked away from the house—that distance representing the hurt he’d caused. She wanted to hear him call her name, to follow her into the emptiness, to grab her by the shoulders and shake her, a classic black-and-white movie moment. Damn it, April, don’t you know I love you? And then she’d crumple in his arms. All would be forgiven. She’d apologize, beg him to take her back.

A spark of irritation bit at her heart. He should beg her to take him back. This was his fault.

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