A SECOND CHANCE AT FOREVER Chapter 20: CHAPTER TWENTY

KYLE

After Ashley stormed off, I squeezed in two more ski runs before meeting up with Ryan and Violet for dinner. The crisp mountain air did little to clear my head, and the adrenaline from the slopes wasn’t enough to drown out the nagging tension sitting heavy in my chest.

When I arrived at the lodge’s rustic dining area, Ryan and Violet were already seated at a table by the window. I assumed Ashley had headed back to the lodge after her last ski run, maybe needing space—or just wanting to avoid me—but the fourth spot at the table was conspicuously empty.

I eyed the vacant chair, answering Ryan’s questions about the slopes with distracted nods and half-hearted replies. My focus kept drifting, my chest tightening with an unfamiliar weight. I wanted to ask where Ashley was, but the words stuck in my throat. It felt… complicated. She was my ex-wife, after all. And Violet? She didn’t hide her disdain for me, even if she never outright said it. It was obvious in the way she looked at me sometimes—a mixture of judgment and quiet loathing—or in the clipped way she responded whenever I spoke.

And that subtle “What the fuck are you doing here in Vermont?” look she kept throwing at me wasn't lost on me.

Oh well. Me being here wasn’t some random coincidence. It was planned.

Ryan had mentioned this trip days ago, talking about his business associate’s resort and how he’d been sent four tickets instead of two. The first thing that came to mind was Ashley.

The second he mentioned it, the idea planted itself in my head. A trip to Vermont… snow, cozy lodges, shared proximity. It was perfect. I didn’t even have to push for it—Ryan casually extended the invitation, and just like that, I was in.

A faint smirk tugged at the corner of my mouth as I thought back to earlier on the slopes—her flushed cheeks, her sharp retorts, the way her body felt pressed against mine after the fall. She could deny it all she wanted, but I’d seen it in her eyes, felt it in the shallow rise and fall of her chest against mine. That flicker of something she couldn’t quite hide.

And it wasn’t just her.

Our fall might’ve been an accident, but the way her curves had molded to my body? That was burned into my memory. We’d both been bundled up in layers of winter gear, but in my mind, it was as if those layers never existed. I could picture it so vividly—her soft skin against mine, her body arching beneath my touch, her sharp, infuriating tongue melting into breathless gasps as I—

Fuck fuck

I snapped my napkin open and hastily draped it over my lap, shifting uncomfortably in my seat.

My cock strained against my zipper and I prayed , and I prayed neither Ryan nor Violet noticed my uneven breathing as I reached for my glass, taking a long sip to cool down thoughts that were anything but appropriate for lunchtime conversation.

“She texted,” Violet’s voice cut through my spiral, sharp and deliberate, her eyes narrowing slightly. “Said she wasn’t feeling well.”

I froze, the glass halfway to my lips. My gaze snapped to her, my pulse quickening. It was then I realized—I’d been staring at Ashley’s empty seat the entire time.

A hollow tightness bloomed in my chest.

Ashley? Not feeling well? She’d been fine less than an hour ago.

“What’s wrong?” The question shot out of me before I could catch it, my voice a little too sharp, too eager.

Violet’s brows lifted slightly, her eyes narrowing just enough to let me know she wasn’t buying my indifferent act.

“Migraines,” she replied flatly, her gaze lingering on me like she was trying to figure out what exactly I thought I was doing caring this much.

And just like that, my chest felt even tighter.

Shit.

A knot twisted in my stomach. Ashley’s migraines weren’t just headaches; they were debilitating. They’d started during our first year of marriage, blindsiding both of us with their intensity. When they hit, they hit hard—leaving her curled up in the dark, her face pinched with pain, barely able to stand. I’d spent countless nights by her side back then, feeling helpless as I held cold compresses to her temples, whispering useless reassurances while she suffered in silence.

If she was having one now…

I didn’t bother finishing my drink. I was already on my feet.

Ryan’s voice cut through the buzz in my head just as I pushed my chair back.

“Where are you going?” he asked, his fork paused halfway to his mouth, eyes narrowing slightly in suspicion.

I scrambled for an answer, my mind blank except for the pounding thought: I need to see her.

“Uh… bathroom,” I blurted out, the word tumbling out too fast, too loud, and way too unconvincing.

Ryan arched a brow, clearly unimpressed. “The bathrooms are that way.” He jerked his thumb toward the opposite direction—the exact opposite direction of where my feet were already moving.

I froze for a second, swallowing hard. “Right. Yeah. I just… uh… forgot my phone. In the room.”

Ryan’s stare lingered, sharp and assessing, but thankfully, he didn’t press.

Violet, however, shot me a look that practically screamed liar. Her lips twitched like she was holding back some snarky comment, but she stayed quiet.

I didn’t wait around for her to change her mind.

I turned on my heel and made a beeline for the lodge, my pulse racing with every step.

I jogged the rest of the way, my breath coming out in short, sharp bursts that had nothing to do with the altitude

The moment I stopped outside the room, I wrapped my knuckles against the door in case Ashley was indecent. No answer.

I waited for another beat before I opened the door.

The door creaked open, and there she was.

Ashley.

Curled up on the bed, the room dimly lit, curtains drawn tight to block out any steam of light from the moon.  She was bundled under a blanket, her face pale, beads of sweat glistening on her forehead despite the cool temperature.

My chest tightened painfully.

She looked small. Fragile in a way that didn’t suit her at all.

“Ash,” I breathed, stepping inside and closing the door quietly behind me.

She blinked slowly, her eyes glassy and unfocused. “Kyle?” Her voice was hoarse, barely above a whisper.

“I’m here,” I said softly, crossing the room in a few quick strides. I sank onto the edge of the bed without thinking, instinct kicking in.

I reached out, brushing damp strands of hair from her face, my thumb grazing her temple gently. She flinched slightly, and I immediately pulled back.

“Sorry,” I murmured, my throat tightening. “I just—” Wanted to make sure you’re okay.

But the words stuck in my chest.