Chapter 71 Back Home

Chapter 71 Back Home
Sloane POV

—

The first day back at Shalesberg University felt… off. Not bad, just different. I was the new girl again. The air was quieter here, cleaner. There wasn’t the constant buzz of the city, no crowded lecture halls or busy hallways echoing with a hundred different conversations. Just the soft hum of the campus tucked away in the trees, and the little cabin waiting for me a few miles outside town.

Lila’s family had let me use it for the semester “It’s got Wi-Fi, running water, and a coffee maker that actually works,” she’d said with a grin. “You’ll be fine.” She wasn’t wrong. The cabin was small, just a cozy one-bedroom with creaky floors and a big window that looked out into the woods, but it was mine for now. Peaceful, quiet, and perfect for someone who needed to start over.

I dropped my bag by the couch and sank into the worn armchair, glancing around. It still smelled faintly like the cedar candles Lila had left behind, and a blanket she’d crocheted was draped over the back of the couch. My laptop sat on the table, already open to my class schedule for the semester. I’ve gotten used to the cabin over break, but things have finally settled and I am feeling the distance.

Two hours. That was how far away Dalton was. Lila too. Close enough to visit, but far enough that it still hurt.

My phone buzzed, lighting up with his name.

Dalton: Made it to the school yet? Or still wandering around in the woods like a lost camper?

I smiled, shaking my head.

Me: I’ll have you know, I only took one wrong turn. The GPS hates gravel roads.

Dalton: Progress. I’m proud of you, Miss Mercer. Then, a pause. Already miss you.

My throat tightened.

Me: It’s only Monday. You’ll see me Friday.

Dalton: Not soon enough.

I set the phone down and leaned back, closing my eyes. The week already felt endless.

Nights were the hardest, when the cabin got quiet and the only sounds were crickets and the wind brushing through the trees. Sometimes I’d call him just to hear his voice. Other times, I’d fall asleep listening to old voicemails he’d left me, those little reminders that I wasn’t as alone as it felt.

Lila came by that Thursday with two iced coffees and a bag of groceries. “God, this place is cute,” she said, stepping inside and spinning slowly. “It’s like Pinterest threw up in here.”

“Your family has good taste,” I teased. 

She plopped onto the couch. “You sure you’re okay being out here alone? It’s… quiet.” 

“That’s kind of the point,” I said. “I needed quiet.”

She studied me for a moment. “You miss him.” 

I smiled faintly. “Every second.” 

She sighed, setting her coffee down. “I’m sorry, Sloane. For pushing you into this. Into him.” 

“Stop,” I said softly. “It wasn’t your fault. It was my choice.”

“Hey, at least I let him know where you were so you guys could make up….”

We stayed up half the night watching bad movies and talking about everything, her new internship, the endless parade of assignments, how weird it felt not to share a dorm room anymore. When she finally left the next morning, she hugged me tight, promising to visit again soon.

That weekend, Dalton showed up just as the sun was setting. His car rumbled up the gravel path, headlights slicing through the dusk. I met him at the door, and for a moment, neither of us said anything. He just looked at me like he was trying to memorize my face all over again.

Then he smiled. “Missed you.” I smiled back. “Took you long enough.”

He brought Thai food and a bottle of wine, claiming he wanted to “christen the new place.” We ate on the couch, legs tangled under the blanket, watching some old show neither of us really paid attention to. Every so often, he’d reach for my hand, or brush a strand of hair behind my ear, and it made the cabin feel warmer, like maybe this wasn’t just a temporary escape after all.

The weekends became our little ritual. He’d drive up Friday nights, sometimes bringing papers to grade or a book to read while I studied. We’d cook together, or go on long walks through the woods, or just sit outside wrapped in a blanket, watching the stars.

Every Sunday night, I hated saying goodbye. He’d kiss me, slow and lingering, and promise he’d be back soon. And he always was.

By late November, I’d fallen into a rhythm, classes during the week, him on the weekends, and Lila popping in whenever she could. The ache of what we’d been through was still there, but it was softer now. Manageable.

Then one night, as I sat at the kitchen table finishing a paper, Dalton’s name lit up my phone again.

“Hey,” I said, smiling as I answered. “You’re early tonight.” “Couldn’t help it,” he said. “I needed to hear your voice.”

There was a pause, the kind that made my pulse stutter.

“I wanted to ask you something.”

I frowned slightly. “Okay…”

“It’s about Christmas.”

I blinked. “Christmas?” He exhaled, a small nervous laugh escaping him. “Yeah. I want you to come with me this year, to my mom’s place. My sister and stepdad will be there too. I haven’t been going the last few years, but my mom has been nagging me about it. I know it’s a lot, but… I want them to meet you.”

For a second, I couldn’t breathe. He’d told me about them before, his family, the good parts and the complicated ones. But an invitation like that… it meant something.

“Dalton,” I whispered, unsure what to say.

“I get it if it’s too soon,” he said quickly. “But I want this, Sloane. I want you in every part of my life.”

And just like that, the world felt bigger again, and safer.

“I’d love to,” I said quietly.

His sigh of relief came through the speaker. “Good. Because Mom’s already asking what kind of dessert you like.”

—

The snow had started to melt in patches around the cabin, leaving the earth damp and glistening beneath the pale winter sun. I leaned against the porch railing, coffee in hand, my thick knit sweater brushing my thighs as I breathed in the crisp air. For the first time in weeks, my heart didn’t feel so heavy. I’d been balancing classes, phone calls with Dalton that always lasted until I fell asleep, and the kind of peace that only came after surviving something turbulent.

I’d barely finished my cup when a familiar car came bouncing up the gravel path. Lila’s little red hatchback looked out of place against the quiet woods, but my grin grew anyway.

The second Lila stepped out, she squealed, “You look so good! Look at you all mountain-girl chic.”

I laughed and met her halfway, hugging her tightly. “You’re acting like it’s been years. It’s been two weeks.”

“Two weeks too long,” Lila said dramatically, pulling back and flicking snow off her boots.

I shook my head with a soft laugh.

Lila stepped inside, immediately making herself at home, tossing her coat on a chair and beelining for the kitchen. “So,” she began, rummaging through my pantry, “Dalton invited you to Christmas with his family?”

I nodded, a shy smile tugging at my lips. “Yeah. He asked a few nights ago. I said yes.”

Lila froze, spinning on her heel with a dramatic gasp. “You’re meeting the family?! Oh my God, that’s huge. Like, borderline engagement huge.”

I blushed. “Stop. It’s just Christmas.”

“‘Just Christmas,’” Lila repeated, mock-offended. “Honey, Christmas is where moms judge your outfit, sisters size you up, and stepdads try to be cool but end up saying something awkward about politics. You can’t just wing Christmas.”

I rolled my eyes, laughing. “Okay, okay, what do you suggest, oh wise one?”

“Obviously,” Lila said, grabbing her purse, “a shopping trip.”

—

By midafternoon, we were in the small downtown area a few miles from campus, ducking in and out of shops while light flurries dusted our hair. Lila insisted on picking out options for me to try, most of them a little too daring for a family gathering.

Lila held up a red dress with a plunging neckline. “This says confident, festive, and just enough ‘your son’s lucky to have me.’”

I snorted. “That says I’m the reason Santa’s blushing.”

“Fine, fine.” Lila hung it back up and pulled another, soft emerald green, long-sleeved, the fabric smooth and fitted at the waist. “This one. Subtle but sexy. Comfortable enough to survive awkward family conversations, and the color will make Dalton melt.”

I looked at it for a long moment, running my fingers over the fabric. “You think?”

“I know,” Lila said, smirking. “Trust me, when he sees you in this, he’ll forget what words are.”

I laughed again, shaking my head as I went to try it on. When I came out, Lila’s grin said it all.

“Oh, you’re wearing that to Christmas,” she said, no room for argument. “You look incredible. Like—goddess energy.”

I studied myself in the mirror. The dress wasn’t flashy, but it hugged me just right, bringing out warmth in my eyes and softening my curves. I felt like myself, no pretense, no pretending. Just… happy.

“I’ll take it,” I said softly.

“Good girl,” Lila teased, bumping my shoulder.

—

We grabbed dinner at a cozy diner afterward, our table by the window overlooking the snow-covered street. The smell of hot chocolate and cinnamon drifted through the air.

“I really missed this,” I said quietly, stirring my drink.

Lila’s smile softened. “Me too. It’s weird not seeing you every day. But you seem… I don’t know, grounded. Like you’re finally breathing again.”

I nodded slowly. “I think I am. It’s different here... peaceful. I can think. I can just be. And Dalton, he’s patient. He doesn’t push. He just… makes everything easier.”

Lila leaned forward, chin on her hand. “I’m happy for you, Sloane. You deserve someone who makes you feel that way. I saw how you used to shrink yourself for people who didn’t even notice. But with him? You shine.”

I blinked back a few unexpected tears and reached across the table to squeeze her hand. “Thank you.”

Lila shrugged, pretending to dab at imaginary tears. “Ugh, look at us being all sentimental. Next thing you know, I’ll start journaling about my feelings.”

I snorted, nearly spilling my drink. “You could try it.”

“Hard pass.” Lila grinned. “But I’ll keep being your personal stylist-slash-therapist. Someone’s gotta keep you looking hot and emotionally stable.”

—

By the time we got back to the cabin, night had fallen. The windows glowed warmly against the dark woods, and snow had started to drift again. Lila helped me hang my new outfit before flopping onto the couch with a sigh.

“Promise me you’ll call me after Christmas,” she said. “I need every juicy detail. And if his mom hates you, I’ll come down there myself and handle it.”

I smiled, curling up beside her. “Deal.”

For a while, we just sat there, watching the snow fall through the window, the fire crackling softly behind us. It felt easy, safe.

I didn’t know what the future would bring, but in that moment, surrounded by warmth, friendship, and a love that finally felt right.