Fairy Tale: Winter's Bite

Chapter 24: Insight (Part 2)

Chris plowed through the rain and thick foliage in full darkness. He didn't intend to stop until he was lost. Very lost. There was no way he could return to the hut and look anyone in the eye right now.

She'll never forgive me. Neither will he. . .

He hated himself for what had happened—his lack of control and then his harsh fits of uncertainty. As much as he wanted to deny it, though, he and Cassie had shared a moment. He had received a taste of bliss. He knew it would be smart to spit out its lingering sweetness, but he was already addicted and craving another hit.

The slippery conditions soon brought Chris to the ground with a muddy slide. He decided not to chance going any deeper into the jungle. As much as he wanted to, he couldn't just give up on everything and everybody.

After he propped a shelter of branches and leaves over his head, he huddled into a ball underneath and tried to rest. Eyes open, eyes closed. It didn't matter. He couldn't get her off his mind. Her heartbreaking story, the magnetic pull of her eyes, the lush setting—and luscious body—had made him forget who he was, where he was, what century he lived in!

Chris lay on the wet grass and clenched his teeth. He tried to forget, he tried to avoid taking things to their natural conclusion, over and over again, but his imagination was a wild and uncontrollable beast. More than anything, he wanted to hold her underneath the stars, kiss and comfort her until he restored her faith that goodness could exist in the world.

Hours passed, and in a state of light sleep, Chris entered into a dull, monotonous dream. The exotic greenery against the backdrop of a purplish heaven streamed past as if he were flying.

But his dreamy self was not content or captivated by the strange beauty. Chris might as well have been wandering through outer space. Nothing looked familiar. He was lost and alone. Then he started to feel uneasy, like he was center stage in front of a tough audience. His worries were unfounded, although he was being watched.

"She's cute. You should totally go for her."

Chris turned toward the familiar voice. "What?" He squinted into the dreamy haze. "Alana, is that you?"

"That's a tough question to answer." She flew into his arms—literally—for a friendly embrace. "I could be paying a visit from the afterlife, or perhaps I'm a figment of your imagination. Either way, you look like you need someone to talk to."

His hug lifted her off the ground. She was perfectly capable of lifting into the air on her own, though. She was the one who gave their kids the wings. Now, it seemed silly that he ever had any doubt. "You have no idea," he replied as he lowered her back down.

"Then start talking!" She poked him in the chest. "First of all, what has been up with you lately?"

He opened his mouth to speak before he had a clear answer for her. "I . . . don't know anymore. I definitely haven't been myself. That's kind of obvious, right? I used to be relatively stable and now I'm so weak and argumentative and hot-tempered and . . . I miss our old life. Things were so much simpler. In this world, every day is a struggle . . . with family, with myself . . . my anger . . . my guilt. And now I've ruined everything. All progress. Any hope. That's why I'm hiding from everyone, especially from the girl I can't stop thinking about. I can't believe I let myself fall for her so hard and so fast."

"These things happen sometimes, so don't beat yourself up over that . . . kiss."

Chris looked down in shame. "Kiss" was, by far, an understatement. His wife of five years shouldn't have had to witness it even if she was surprisingly sympathetic.