FALLING FOR MR SNOWFLAKE

LILY

The morning sunlight slanted across the snow like a thousand diamonds scattered across the slopes, dazzling enough to make me squint. Normally, mornings like this put me in a good mood. Perfect ski weather. Crisp, cold air that woke you up better than any cup of coffee.

But today, something felt off.

I tugged my scarf tighter around my neck as I trudged toward the lodge, skis balanced on my shoulder. My lesson with Jake should’ve started fifteen minutes ago, but the beginner slope was empty. Not a single awkward figure in jacket wobbling around on skis. No shy smile waiting for me as he fumbled with his gloves.

I frowned, checking my watch. Maybe he was late. Or maybe knowing him , he’d fallen into a snowbank on his way over.

“Morning, Lily!”

It was Ben, one of the rental shop guys, sticking his head out the side door. “Hey, someone left something for you.”

My brows knit together as I jogged over. “For me?”

He held out an envelope, my name scrawled across the front in handwriting that was both messy and elegant at the same time. I didn’t need to open it to know who it was from.

Jake.

My stomach dipped.

“Thanks” I murmured, slipping the envelope into my pocket before heading inside the lodge. My hands were suddenly clammy in my gloves.

The staff room was warm, smelling faintly of coffee and pine-scented cleaner. I sat down heavily on the bench, tugged off my gloves, and tore the envelope open.

Lily,

Thank you for your patience these past few days. I never imagined I’d actually enjoy skiing lessons , falling over repeatedly isn’t exactly my idea of fun but you made it bearable. More than that, you made it memorable. I don’t often get the chance to feel ordinary. You gave me that gift, even if you didn’t know it.

I have to go back now. Back to my world. Responsibilities don’t wait, even when you wish they would. I didn’t want to disappear without saying goodbye, so… thank you. For everything.

—Jake

I stared at the words until they blurred together.

Gone?

Just like that?

A flicker of heat rose in my chest, confusing and sharp. Mad wasn’t even the right word. Frustrated, maybe. Disappointed or something else I didn’t have a name for.

We’d known each other for what, a handful of lessons? A few hours in total? It wasn’t like we were close. It wasn’t like I had the right to feel this ache twisting through me. And yet, I did.

I crumpled the letter slightly in my fist, then smoothed it out again with a sigh.

He could’ve told me in person. That was what stung the most. I’d asked him last night if he wanted to go back, and he’d looked me in the eye, soft and unsure. Why not just say then that he was leaving? Why leave me waiting on the beginner slope like some clueless idiot?

The staff door swung open and Janice from the front desk poked her head in. “Lily? Phone call for you in the office.”

I blinked, caught off guard. “For me?”

“Yep. Said it’s about a job application?” She gave me a curious look before disappearing again.

My heart lurched. The Ryland Corporation application. Already?

I shoved Jake’s letter back into my pocket and hurried down the hall to the cramped office. The corded phone sat on the desk, its blinking light almost taunting me.

“Hello? This is Lily Carter.”

A clipped, professional voice answered. “Good morning, Miss Carter. This is Human Resources at Ryland Corporation. We received your application yesterday and would like to schedule an interview. Are you available for a preliminary phone interview tomorrow afternoon?”

For a second, I was too stunned to speak. “Uh- yes. Yes, I am.”

“Excellent. We’ll send the details to your email. Please confirm receipt. Have a good day.”

The line went dead.

I slowly lowered the receiver, staring at the wall.

An interview. Already.

I should’ve been thrilled. Excited. This was exactly what I’d wanted last night when I hit submit. But instead, my mind kept circling back to the folded letter in my pocket.

Jake, disappearing into thin air. Jake, saying goodbye on paper instead of with his voice.

I pressed my forehead into my hands, groaning softly. Why was I letting this get to me? He was just some guy. A tourist. He had his world, and I had mine.

So why did it feel like someone had tugged a thread loose inside me, unraveling something I didn’t even realize was there?

Maybe Sophie was right. Maybe I’d been coasting too long, letting my little routines and safe choices keep me stuck. Maybe Jake wasn’t anything more than a wake-up call. A reminder that people could leave at any time, without explanation. That the world outside Aspenridge was always waiting.

I stood up, shoving the letter deeper into my pocket. I wasn’t going to mope over someone who clearly hadn’t wanted to stay. I had a job interview to prepare for.

Still, as I walked back into the cold mountain air, the ache in my chest didn’t fade. It just settled there, stubborn and heavy, like the lingering weight of snowfall that refused to melt.