18+ | Eva French relocates from sunny Florida to the gritty streets of Detroit, seeking a fresh start. But her new beginning takes a dark turn when she experiences a traumatic assault on her very first night in the city. Haunted by the incident, Eva...
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Vince Matthews
As the months drifted by, our shared moments weaved with the changing weather. The city embraced an encroaching chill, and a winter blanket of snow painted the streets in hues of white and gray. I had always hated winter. It was consistently a nuisance to me. Navigating my motorcycle through the thick snow became impractical, working on cars at the garage lost its outdoor appeal, and the bitter memories associated with this time of year only added to the discontent.
Our part of town wore the weather differently than how you'd see in a Christmas movie. The snowfall, less picturesque, melted into a slushy concoction that dared anyone to navigate without dampened socks or pants. It covered the grass on each lawn and field, hiding the only thing that had brought color to the neighborhood.
Despite the dreary streets, remnants of joy adorned some houses – weary snowmen with lopsided grins and makeshift snow forts, some of their walls half-standing, proof that they had been put to good use. To me, they were just icy figures, but to Eva, they were beacons of delight. In her eyes, the imperfect snowmen stood as funny testaments to the hard work of the kids who made them. One time on a nightly walk, she saw that a rock had fallen, leaving the snowman with only one eye. She had stopped me and insisted we find another so she could replace it.
She told me she loved the snow, especially because she had never seen it back home before. Hearing and watching her enthusiasm began to sway my own feelings, and gradually, I found myself falling in love with it too.
"What's this?" she asked me that afternoon, holding up the coat in front of her with surprise. I walked over to her house with my gift, feeling rather embarrassed as I handed it to her. I hoped the size was right.
"A winter coat," I muttered grumpily at her silly question, "I wouldn't have had to get one if you would just stop wearing that stupid jacket. How many times have I told you how cold it gets here during the winter? This isn't Florida. A jacket or cardigan isn't enough. It'll get really—"
"Okay, okay," she chided with a smile, interrupting me gently. She slipped it on and I was horrified to see that it was far too big for her. I tried masking my embarrassment as I felt the heat in my cheeks, glancing at her as nonchalantly as I could.
"Did you get this for me?" she asked, looking at me with humor in her eyes. She lifted her arms straight in front of her, the ends of the sleeves almost covering her fingertips, "Or did you get it for yourself?"
"Well, it's a win-win situation, isn't it?" I muttered, continuing to look down at her grumpily as she flapped the sleeves around with glee, "If it keeps you warm, then it's for you. If it looks good on you, then it's definitely for me."
"I can return it," I muttered solemnly as I continued watching her poke fun at the size as she playfully fidgeted around in the sea of fabric, "Give it here."
"No way!" she teased, taking a step back and grabbing the tag that was hanging from the arm of the sleeve, ripping it off in one fluid motion, "I love it. It's like a warm cocoon."
