CHAPTER 315

CHAPTER 315
WINTER

The fire crackled low in the stone hearth, throwing warm gold light across the living room and making the big windows look like dark mirrors reflecting the ocean outside.

Claire, and Ariel, curled on the oversized sectional with blankets and half-empty mugs of hot chocolate spiked with something stronger Claire had “found” in the pantry.

I was tucked into the corner, legs folded under me, Zion’s hoodie still swallowing me whole.

The fresh snowflake on my left wrist caught the firelight every time I moved my hand—small, delicate, perfect—and the RC on my right arm felt like a quiet brand I could feel even through the sleeve.

Every glance at them made my chest ache in the best way.

Claire was sprawled on her back with her head in Ariel’s lap, red hair fanned out like a halo, one hand lazily waving her mug around as she talked.

“—and then he says, ‘Claire, it’s not a date, it’s just dinner,’ like I’m stupid. Like I don’t know what ‘dinner’ means when he picks me up at eight and pays and stares at me like I hung the moon. Men are so dumb sometimes.”

Ariel laughed—soft, nervous, but real—and reached over to the side table for another marshmallow from the bag Claire had dumped there earlier. Her shirt rode up just enough when she stretched.

I saw it.

A bruise.

Big. Ugly. Purple-black blooming across her hip like spilled ink, the edges already yellowing.

Not fresh, but not old either—maybe a week, maybe less.

The kind of mark that came from something hard and deliberate.

My stomach dropped.

“Ariel…” I said quietly, voice cutting through Claire’s story.

“What’s that?”

Ariel froze—mid-reach—then yanked her shirt down so fast it bunched awkwardly. Her cheeks flushed pink, eyes darting to the fire.

“Oh. That? It’s nothing. Just… clumsy. Tripped over the coffee table at home. You know me. Graceful as a drunk giraffe.”

Claire sat up slowly, blanket pooling in her lap, eyes narrowing.

“Tripped over the coffee table?” she repeated, tone flat.

“That’s a hand-shaped bruise, Ariel. I can see the fingers from here.”

Ariel laughed—high, forced, too loud for the quiet room.

“It’s not—seriously, it’s nothing. I fell weird. Landed on the edge of the table. It looks worse than it is. I’m fine. Really.”

I exchanged a look with Claire.

Her eyes were hard—worried, angry, protective.

Mine felt the same.

“Ariel,” I said gently, leaning forward.

“You don’t have to lie to us. If something happened—if someone—”

“I’m fine,” Ariel cut in, too quick, too sharp. She wrapped the blanket tighter around herself.

“Really. It was an accident. I swear. Can we just… not? Please? Tonight’s supposed to be good. Happy. I don’t want to ruin it.”

Claire’s jaw tightened. She opened her mouth—ready to push—but before she could, the back door banged open.

Clark burst in—hair windblown, cheeks red from the cold, grinning like he’d just won the lottery.

“Winter! Come out! You need to see this!”

I blinked. “See what?”

He didn’t answer—just waved his arms like a lunatic.

“Come on! Outside! Now! Move it, Trouble! This is big! Huge! Life-changing!”

Claire groaned.

“Clark, if this is another one of your ‘surprises’ like the time you tried to set off fireworks in the backyard and almost burned down the shed—”

“It’s better,” he said, eyes sparkling.

“Trust me. Winter—now. Zion’s waiting.”

My heart kicked—hard.

Zion.

I looked at Claire and Ariel—they were already standing, curious despite themselves.

I pushed up from the couch—slow, careful of my side—and followed Clark out the back door.

The night air hit me—cold, salty, alive with the steady crash of waves below the bluff.

The porch light spilled gold across the wooden deck, and beyond it, the private stretch of beach glowed silver under the moon.

And there—down on the sand, just above the tide line—stood Zion.

He’d changed into dark jeans and a black button-down, sleeves rolled to his elbows, hair wind-tossed.

The fire pit we’d lit earlier crackled low beside him, throwing flickering light across his face. Behind him, the ocean rolled in slow, endless waves.

The boys were there too—Harry leaning against the railing, arms crossed, small smile tugging at his mouth.

Ro standing silent and still like a sentinel.

Clark jogged ahead of us, already pulling out his phone like he was about to live-stream the apocalypse.

Zion’s eyes found mine the second I stepped onto the deck.

He smiled—slow, soft, nervous in a way I’d never seen before.

My heart slammed against my ribs.

He held out his hand.

I walked down the steps—bare feet sinking into cool sand—Claire and Ariel right behind me, both suddenly quiet.

When I reached him, he took both my hands—thumbs brushing over the snowflake and RC on my wrists—

His eyes—deep blue flecked with silver from the moonlight and the stars overhead—stare straight into mine, intense and unguarded in a way that makes my chest ache.

“What’s going on… Zion…”

He exhales—slow, shaky—like he’s been carrying the words for years and they’re finally too heavy to hold back.

“You know how long I’ve been obsessed with you?”

I shake my head, barely breathing.

“I became obsessed with you the day you gave me that snow globe,” he says, voice low and rough, like he’s pulling the memory out of some locked place inside him.

“We were ten. You laid your head on my thigh in the backyard, snow falling around us, and you told me to keep it on my nightstand so I’d think of you every night before I fell asleep. You said it would ‘keep me warm when winter felt too cold.’ And I did. Every single night.

But it wasn’t just the snow globe. It was the way you’d sneak me your favorite candy from your lunchbox because you knew I hated the cafeteria food. The way you’d sit with me on the swings when no one else would, kicking your legs in time with mine, humming songs you made up on the spot.

And when you drew that stupid little cartoon of us as superheroes on the back of my math notebook—me with a cape made of flames, you with wings made of snowflakes—I kept that page taped inside my locker for two years. Every time I opened it, there you were. Smiling. Saving me. Even when I didn’t know I needed saving.”

His smile dims—

“But that obsession… it turned to hatred. Because of my own fucked-up mind. I blamed you for destroying my family, when you were fucking innocent. And when you came back to me—all grown up and untouchable—I hated myself more than I ever hated you.

I wanted you so badly it felt like betrayal—I hated myself because I wanted you more than I wanted anything. I hated myself for never being able to move on, for avoiding every blonde with blue eyes because they reminded me of you… for carrying you around in my chest like a ghost I couldn’t exorcise.

But loving you was the easiest thing I’ve ever done. It was natural. Inevitable. And fucking infinite.”

My lips part.

My brain struggles to process every word—

“Are you saying you love me?” I whisper.

“Because… I already know that…”

“Yeah. I fucking love you. Always fucking have, Snowflake. Loved you since we were ten. I only figured it out late—because I thought you betrayed me and I was stupid enough to let that poison rot inside me instead of just telling you. I was too proud. Too scared. Too fucking broken. But I never stopped. Not for one second.”

“Looks like we both misunderstood each other,” I say, voice cracking.

“I thought you’d changed,” I said quietly.

“That you liked being this rich, arrogant manwhore… using girls and throwing them away like they meant nothing. I hated that I became your stepsister. Hated how cold you were. The way you looked at me like I was just… there. Like our friendship never meant anything.”

The words leave my mouth, but they hurt me just as much as they hit him.

Zion drags a hand over his face, and for a second he looks… wrecked.

Not angry.

Just ashamed.

“Fuck,” he breathes, voice rough.

“I’m sorry. I was a fucking bastard.”

He shakes his head slowly, like he hates the person he used to be.

“I wasn’t thinking about anything except numbing the hole you left behind,” he says.

“I thought if I kept moving, kept drinking, kept fucking—any girl who looked at me twice—it would shut the silence up.”

I stare at him, my heart thudding painfully in my chest.

“But it didn’t.”

His eyes meet mine, and there’s something raw in them that makes my breath catch.

“Those years you were gone?” he says quietly.

“They were empty as hell. Just this… hollow space I kept trying to fill with girls who meant nothing. Faces I barely remembered the next morning.”

He lets out a bitter laugh that makes something inside me twist.

“I tried to replace you with every girl who’d have me. Thought eventually one of them would feel close enough.”

My throat tightens.

But then his voice drops, softer now.

“None of them were you. Not even fucking close.”

I swallow hard, my eyes burning.

“And every time I looked at you after you came back… I acted like you didn’t matter,” he continues.

“Because it was easier than admitting the truth.”

I can barely breathe now.

“That losing you was the worst damn thing that ever happened to me.”

My palm finds his cheek—cold from the night air, stubble rough under my fingers.

“You don’t have to say anything, Zion,” I whisper.

“I know you. I know your heart. You don’t need to explain. We’re together now. I’m yours as much as you’re mine.”

He leans into my touch like it’s the only thing keeping him grounded.

“Fuck right we’re together. And I don’t only belong to you—you’re too deep in my soul. I’d have to die to remove you. And that’s just tragic, so you can’t leave me.”

A lone tear slides down my cheek.

“I won’t. Never.”

He cups my face with both hands—thumbs brushing away the tear tracks.

“My home is wherever you are. You’re my home, Snowflake.”

“Oh, Zion… stop,” I choke out, half-laughing, half-crying.

“You’re going to make me cry.”

“Stay with me,” he says, voice dropping softer.

“I haven’t gotten to the most important part.”

“And what is that?”

“Remember what you asked me back when we were children?”

I blink—confusion flickering through the tears.

“What?”

“You proposed to me.”

My cheeks flame hot. “I was… a kid.”

“It still counts.” —then drops down in front of me, one knee sinking into the cool beach.

“And now it’s my turn to propose.”

He reaches into his pocket—pulls out a small black box—and opens it with shaking fingers.

A ring—delicate platinum band, a single clear diamond catching the moonlight like captured starlight, small enough not to catch on anything, but bright enough to shine forever.

“You’re the only woman I can imagine spending the rest of my life with,” he says, voice cracking.

“The woman I want to wake up next to every single day. The one who makes me want to be better—not perfect, just better—for you. You don’t just make me a better man, Snowflake—you make me want to be the kind of man who deserves you. The kind who fights for you. The kind who never lets go again. So… will you marry me?”

Tears blur my vision.

I can’t speak—throat too tight, heart too full—so I just nod.

Frantic.

Over and over.

Then I drop to my knees—wrapping my arms around his neck, burying my face in his shoulder, sobbing and laughing at the same time.

“Yes,” I choke out against his skin.

“Yes. Yes. A thousand times yes.”

He pulls me into him—crushing me against his chest, arms locking around me like he’ll never let go—and kisses me.

The boys erupt behind us—Clark whooping like a maniac, Harry clapping slow and steady, Ro giving one quiet, satisfied nod.

Claire squeals—high and delighted—rushing down the steps with Ariel right behind her.

I don’t care.

I just hold on to Zion—ring heavy and sparkling on my finger, heart so full it hurts—and kiss him, like the world is ending and beginning all at once.

Because it is.

Our world.

Our forever.

Finally.

..