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The cabin felt different now, as though Tala was seeing it in a brand new light. She was, really. The night she had arrived, there had hardly been a star in the dark sky. She had only left once, to go to the bar, and she had returned in a tipsy stupor with Raphael's hand in hers, the night hiding the house. Now she saw it in the start light of day, pale sun pouring over what was left of the snow.
It looked sweet. She almost didn't want to leave.
But she had to. She was supposed to have checked out yesterday. She was supposed to have been home by now. The owner of the cabin had been very easy-going when she had asked for an extra day at the last minute, realising that she had spent almost a full week with Raphael and March, and she had forgotten to pack up her things.
Now it was New Year's Eve. Home was calling. Literally. Her mother had killed the mood when she had rung at eight o'clock in the morning; Alon had called at nine. A little after ten, it had been Maddie's name that had filled the screen. Tala had assured each of them that she would be back before the new year began and now she was going to have to deliver on her promise.
The cabin was exactly as she had left it on Christmas Eve, as though time had stopped a week ago. There were still a couple of wine glasses beside the sink, a shallow puddle of red pooled in each; crumbs dotted the counter and ready meal boxes poked out of the bin. Her books were stack on the table beside a hastily made bed, the duvet pulled across crumpled sheets.
As her phone played a tinny tune to drown out the silence that she wasn't sure she ever would have tolerated for more than a couple of days, she stripped the bed and folded dirty sheets on the end. Tying a knot in the bathroom bin bag, she hid the evidence of the nights she had spent with Raphael: a one-night stand that had become a two-night stand, which had become a boyfriend.
Packing clothes into her suitcase, it struck her how little she had brought. Just the bare bones of her life, enough to exist for a week in the woods, but not much more. Just enough clothes so that she wouldn't have to do laundry; one book more than she would be able to read in ten days.
Alon had been right. No matter her protestations, she would have been miserable had she been alone for ten days. After all, it was misery that had prompted her to book the trip. Home had been lonely and sad; those feelings would only have transferred to the cabin by the time Christmas rolled around.
A strange shiver ran through her. She didn't like to think of what could have been: a lonely Christmas; a week of isolation; a solitary life awaiting her return. But in a flash, that threat had been wiped out when she had stumbled upon her one-way ticket away from a solitary holiday.
With every second that she spend tidying up the pathetic remnants of her first few days away, the more she wanted to get away from the cabin and back to the warmth of Raphael's home. She ached for it, to curl against his body and feel his heartbeat against her palm and his lips on her cheek.
