Chapter 19 - The First SnowBy November, the first heavy winter snows had begun to crown the peaks around Zermatt, transforming the valley into a living postcard of white and evergreen.
We had spent the afternoon clearing the heavy drifts from the front steps of the chalet, laughing like children as we pelted each other with loose snowballs until my jacket was soaked through and Julia’s cheeks were bright red with exertion.
Inside, the stone hearth was blazing, casting a dancing amber glow across the rustic wooden furniture.
Julia sat curled up in the large armchair by the window, wrapped in a knitted blanket, reading a thick paperback novel while I poured two mugs of hot spiced cider on the kitchen counter.
I brought them over, handing one to her before settling onto the rug at her feet, leaning back against her knees. She set her book aside and began absentmindedly running her fingers through my hair, her touch light and soothing.
"Do you ever think about it?" she asked quietly, her gaze drifting toward the dancing flames in the fireplace.
"About Buffalo?" I asked.
She nodded. "About who we were. About the estate, the cars, the power. Sometimes it feels like we lived another lifetime in a parallel universe."
I stared into the fire, watching a spark pop and fade against the black stone.
"I don't miss the power," I said honestly. "And I certainly don't miss the fear. For twenty years, I thought control meant holding a gun and making men tremble when I walked into a room. I didn't realize until I watched you nearly suffocate in that east wing that real control has nothing to do with dominance."
"What is it, then?" she whispered.
"It's choice," I turned my head, looking up into her eyes. "Choosing peace over pride. Choosing truth over armor. Choosing to wake up every morning and look at the only person in the world who ever loved me enough to trade her own breath for mine."
May you like
Julia’s eyes shimmered, and she leaned down, resting her chin on the top of my head, her lips brushing my hair.
"You didn't need to trade your breath, Adriano," she whispered softly. "You just needed to use yours to help me find mine."
