She could alter my driving, but she wasn’t going to control my actions.
“Colin speaking,” I said.
“Colin. It’s Ted. Where the hell are you?” he asked.
“Hey, Ted. I’m on the road. The plane was grounded due to a blizzard, then I got caught in that blizzard last night and had to pull over.”
“A plane grounded because of snow in Minnesota. Great. But you’re back on the road, right?”
“Yep. Cruising at a steady fifty miles an hour.”
“You can’t go any faster than that?” he asked.
“There’s still ice on the road. So, no,” I said as I turned my gaze towards Abby.
She pointed back to the road and balked like I was trying to set her skin on fire.
“When is your ETA?” Ted asked.
“Figuring in a stop for lunch and one more stop for gas if necessary, I should be checking into my hotel around three this afternoon.”
“Perfect. Because we have a lot that still has to be done to prepare us for this conference.”
“I know, I know. I’m getting there as fast as I can.”
“Good. Call me when you stop for lunch. I want to keep the hotel updated on your arrival so nothing funky happens. You know how conferences can be and how these hotels can get with people they think aren’t going to show.”
“Thanks, Ted. I appreciate it. I’ll see you soon.”
“You better. This conference is too important.”
“I know that,” I said. “Now let me get back to driving.”
“Can do.”
I hung up the phone and tucked it back into my pocket. Abby was back to staring out the window and sipping her coffee. The silence was still awkward and the tension between us was still thick. And it boggled my mind. The two of us opened up to one another again last night. We shared another vulnerable, intimate moment. I admitted to her that I missed her, and now she was acting like it was the worst thing in the world to be stuck with me.
Maybe she hadn’t enjoyed our time together over Christmas the way I had.
Chapter 8
Abby
We had been in the car for about an hour before the weather started getting bad again. The clouds quickly grayed and the sky was filled with low-hanging promises of snow and ice. If the sun had started rising into the sky, I couldn’t tell. Every once in a while the car would dart, skidding on a patch of ice Colin missed as he zoned out behind the wheel of the car.
Was this man insane?
Then, the snow started to come down again. It started light, melting onto the car before you even knew it was there. The lights came on in front of us so Colin could see better and I shot him a wary look, but he was quick to meet me with one that tried to silently shut down my fears. I knew he wanted me to trust him. I knew he was upset with the fact that I was so scared. But this weather was horrid and it only looked like it was about to get worse.
“Colin, are you sure we shouldn’t—”
“Don’t even start,” he said. “It’s only snowing.”
Then, as if the earth was mocking him, freezing rain started to bang up against the windshield.
It fell so hard and for so long that the temperature outside began to plummet again. The ice was slowly clinging to the windshield wipers Colin had going and the snow was picking up the pace. The sun was muted because of the dark clouds and the highway was deserted of anyone trying to drive anywhere.
We were the only two idiots trying to drive through this shit.
“Colin, I really do think we should—”
“Why do you not trust me?” he asked.
“If you’d just let me finish, you’d realize I’m not suggesting we get another hotel room. God forbid,” I said breathlessly.
“You want me to pull off on the side of the road until this stuff passes again. But I’m telling you, Abby, we’re safe. You’re fine as long as I’m driving. We will make it to Wichita today, then you can board yourself up in your hotel room and not leave until the conference begins,” he said.
The sky had grown dark much more quickly than it had yesterday, and my hands began to shake with worry.
“You just have to trust me,” Colin said.
“It’s not that I don’t trust you, Colin. I just don’t trust this weather. You live in L.A., for crying out loud.”
“And I spend half of my time in Minnesota.”
“Is half of that time in the wintry months?” I asked. “Or do you plan your schedule so you’re lying out on the beach in the middle of January?”
“I don’t have any time to lie on the beach,” he said. “Not with all the things I have on my plate this year. I’m a workaholic, remember?”
I could hear the disdain in his voice as those last words fell from his lips.
“Colin, please. I’ll beg if I have to. Just pull over. There’s so much ice and snow, how in the world can you see? I can hardly see and I grew up in Minnesota winters!”
“Abby, you need to listen to me. I’ve got—”
Before Colin could finish his statement, the car skidded on a patch of ice that was covered with snow. The car went spinning in the middle of the road as Colin slammed on the breaks, and we skidded underneath a bridge. I was screaming and hanging onto the emergency handle as we twirled around, tears pouring down my face.
I saw my entire life
